Tokyo's Phantom Thief

…Things hadn't been going well for Kamoshida lately.

The biggest problem? That busty, long-legged mixed-race girl he'd been chasing for an entire year—Takamaki Ann—was still giving him the cold shoulder. She wouldn't even glance at him, the so-called charming teacher.

It was rare for him to get this obsessed with a high schooler. He'd even lost interest in the other girls who threw themselves at him. He wanted her and her alone.

With all the accolades and prestige he carried as a former star athlete, beautiful women—inside and outside of school—lined up to get close to him.

But not her. Not Takamaki Ann.

She was the first young woman to leave him completely bewitched. Sexy, stunning, and totally untouchable—he had to have her, no matter what.

So he'd played the long game, carefully laying on the charm.

Even her friend, Suzuki Shiho, had been elevated to a starting position on the volleyball team just to help him close the distance.

But the girl was just another clueless teenager. Hadn't she figured it out by now? With everything he'd done, the least she could do was show a little gratitude—accept one of his invitations, maybe?

Yet she dared to ignore all of it. Wasting the goodwill of the great King Kamoshida!

That's why he'd gotten angry. Decided it was time to stop being nice.

He took it out on Suzuki Shiho during volleyball practices—targeting her with harsh drills, yelling at her constantly, breaking down her confidence bit by bit.

The other players slowly lost trust in her too. Now even her starting position was in jeopardy.

If she wanted to keep playing volleyball, she'd have to stay in his good graces.

He'd dropped plenty of hints—Ann should've gotten the message by now: her friend's future was in his hands. It all depended on how sincere she was willing to be.

The plan was working. The new semester was just beginning…

Then Shiho—normally meek and obedient—suddenly claimed she was overtraining, at risk of rhabdomyolysis, and said she needed to stop practicing.

He was furious. Planned to make her parents take her to a real hospital to prove she was lying...

But then he came down with something. A sudden, violent illness like nothing he'd ever felt before.

Heart palpitations. Dizziness. Nausea. At first, he couldn't even stand up straight. He spent days vomiting and bedridden, too weak to even sit up.

It was only on the first day of school that he finally recovered enough to move.

But the rage inside him had only intensified.

His fury needed an outlet. He wanted to break someone. Shatter bones. Ruin knees.

So even though he was still running a low fever, Kamoshida slapped on a cooling patch and forced himself to school. He had to resume volleyball practice.

Because once he was back on the court—back in his kingdom—he could do whatever he wanted to those "slaves." Bully them. Abuse them. Hurt them. No one would stop him.

The other teachers would cover for him. The students were too afraid to talk.

Even their parents—once they heard the name Kamoshida the King—would convince their kids it was all "part of growing."

That was his power. And his desires only grew.

As King of Volleyball, his reign was absolute. He could take whatever he wanted.

...Which is why—

The moment Kamoshida spotted Suzuki Shiho from across the hallway, his twisted desire surged up like a bonfire.

She'd never been his type. Kind of plain, honestly.

But looking at her now… yeah, she wasn't bad at all.

Since he couldn't get Ann—yet—why not start with her?

All he had to do was drag her into his office, lock the door, just like always.

No matter how much crying or screaming happened inside, nobody would interrupt. That was his privilege.

Kamoshida's perverse grin twitched uncontrollably as he stepped in, reaching for Shiho's arm—

"Suzuki, come with me. I need to discipline you. As a member of the volleyball team, how can you be this lazy—HUH!?"

Kamoshida was so focused, he didn't even notice there was a boy standing next to her.

Before his greasy fingers could touch her, Asakura Rinto grabbed his wrist—and slammed him into the wall.

Kamoshida let out a strangled cry of pain, loud enough to startle people in the nearby offices.

"Kamoshida-sensei, I'd appreciate it if you composed yourself."

Rinto narrowed his eyes, staring at the bloodshot man through his glasses.

"You're clearly unwell. You're unsteady on your feet. I'd recommend going home and getting some rest. A few days of peace and you'll feel much better."

"You little bastard—who the hell are you!?"

Kamoshida was livid, screaming with fury.

The boy in front of him looked totally average. He didn't recognize him at all.

And yet—for some reason—an inexplicable wave of dread crept down his spine. Sweat prickled on his back.

Am I… scared of this kid? No. No way!

Of course Kamoshida didn't understand why.

But Rinto did.

Because he was staring straight at it.

A golden, inhuman gleam flickered in Rinto's eyes as he looked past Kamoshida—

And saw his Shadow.

Shirtless, draped in a tacky pink cape—there stood the delusional emperor. The King in New Clothes.

The embodiment of Kamoshida's twisted subconscious, seething and feral.

Shadow Kamoshida roared with impotent rage:

"You again, you little shit! You destroyed my palace! I'll kill you! Torture you! Make you wish you were never born!!"

If he's already dead, how can he wish he was never born?

Truly, this Shadow had inherited Kamoshida's illiteracy too.

Though the real Kamoshida had never met Rinto, his subconscious had—and it hated him.

"Rinto-nii!"

"Rinto-senpai!"

The Yoshizawa twins ran out, drawn by the commotion, their faces shocked when they saw the confrontation.

As the principal and several other teachers arrived too, Rinto calmly released Kamoshida's wrist.

"Gah—!"

Kamoshida yelped and clutched his arm, already swelling and red from the iron grip.

The sheer strength from someone who didn't even look muscular stunned him.

But that shock was quickly replaced by rage and venom:

"Principal! Teachers! You saw that! This student just assaulted me! I'm Kamoshida! A faculty member! Who's his homeroom teacher? I want his name! His parents!"

For such a thick-necked, sweat-stained muscle ape in gym clothes and socks, his tattletale tone sounded more like a whiny elementary schooler. Kind of ridiculous, really.

Rinto calmly raised both hands.

"I didn't do anything. Kamoshida-sensei tripped on his own. Must've lost his balance. I never touched you."

He gently shielded the trembling Shiho behind him, smiling warmly.

Kamoshida shrieked even louder:

"Bullshit! You totally grabbed me! My arm's—wait, where's the mark!? Where is it!?"

Confused, he held up his wrist and blinked rapidly.

Just seconds ago, it had been red and swollen. But now—nothing. Not a scratch. Every greasy hair was clearly visible.

Rinto said nothing. He just smiled quietly.

Behind him, the faint silhouette of a Phantom Mask flickered, wavering in the light.