Side: Miyamoto Masashi
After that—
Launched by a kei truck, I was left with both legs and my ribs in compound fractures. A hopeless state.
For three days and nights I crawled through the forest, no food, no water — and that’s when I met… Senpai.
Senpai was from my high school — a delinquent so far gone he’d done time in juvie assessment. Turns out he’d been transferred to this world too.
He’d built a legend by ESCAPING the juvie facility, whereabouts unknown ever since… well, mystery solved.
Same as me: magic circle bursts out of the ground, and next thing you know, other world.
I was commuting to school; Senpai was inside the facility. Same phenomenon, different venue.
—So. Senpai.
List Senpai’s delinquent achievements and you’d run out of paper.
He hit on and conquered a hundred women.
Never used protection, so kids kept happening — and THAT’S when Senpai invented his own martial art.
—Secret Art: Dark Miscarriage Fist (the “Maji-Hara Punch”).
Absolute madness, top to bottom.
But the whisper network insists it actually WORKED, which is the truly terrifying part of the Senpai legend.
There’s also the one where, mid-motorcycle-chase with highway police, he threw a Molotov and set the cop ablaze.
And the one where he honey-trapped the school principal with a JK badger game and got his own expulsion reversed.
As a fellow delinquent… man, you can’t help but worship the guy.
Yeah — we ALL worshipped him.
—Nakajima… Atomu-senpai.
Even the sparkly kira-kira name is maximally cool.
So Senpai found me crawling through the forest like an insect, and cast healing magic on me.
Turns out Senpai took the transferee training SERIOUSLY and graduated a full-fledged Sage.
Of course, the part where he mastered it all, and then — the INSTANT they told him to serve the state — bailed and registered with the criminal guild? That’s the coolest part.
Man… unlike a half-baked punk like me, a REAL delinquent like Senpai is just built different.
Different caliber. Different dimension.
Genuinely unreal.
Milk the system for everything it’s got, get MAXIMALLY strong, THEN bail.
Me, I bailed while only half-strong — that’s the difference in sheer guts between me and Senpai, I guess.
And then I said, “Man, I shoulda done it like you, Senpai” — which was my fatal mistake, because Senpai dragged me off to some facility I still don’t understand.
Apparently it connects to a mystery space where two days outside equals one year inside.
You don’t age, and it’s the ultimate speed-leveling venue… and I got thrown in.
The space maxes out at five years of use, by the way. I served the full five.
And I trained. I trained SHOCKINGLY seriously.
Senpai handed me a checklist of skills and spells with the words, “Learn these at minimum, or you can’t survive this world as one of the strong” — so obviously I locked in.
Because if I slacked, Senpai would absolutely, definitely kill me afterward.
—Senpai’s torture legends alone make your skin crawl on recall.
I, personally, do not wish to have my eyeballs seared while alive, or ice picks driven under my fingernails.
And so—
Here I am — walking the forest on a special assignment.
The word is: by the KING’S order, we’re raiding the cabin where those loathsome palm-top rabbits and their crew are holed up.
“Heh heh… palm-top rabbits — I’m back, NEW AND IMPROVED!”
Senpai grinned and clapped me on the shoulder.
“Yeah. The you of today wouldn’t lose to a palm-top rabbit one-on-one. And me — I can handle up to two of ‘em at once.”
Me, Senpai, and the assembled Sword Saints and Sages.
A force treated as a nation’s entire decisive-battle reserve. Overkill incarnate.
“Right, Senpai? With this all-star lineup, we can beat ANYTHING, yeah?”
“Yeah, Miyamoto. The us of today—”
And Senpai puffed out his chest and declared, radiant with pride:
“—can beat ANYTHING except a Demon Lord!”
And I nodded back at him, equally proud.
I’ll follow you for LIFE, Senpai!
Our hero, the strongest delinquent alive… Nakajima… Atomu-senpai…!