After school, Makoto Kyushu went to work in the store as usual.

Thanks to the fact that he gave his colleagues a few days ago, the male publicists who used to be arrogant and domineering saw him and clamped their tails and avoided him without saying a word.

This afternoon, the temporary worker in charge of handing out leaflets couldn't come, so he was instructed by the store manager to go outside to distribute flyers.

"Welcome to Tokyo Gensokyo! Scan the code to pay attention to the official account of Tokyo Gensokyo "Tuibo"! Follow it and thank you! ”

As much as possible, Kyushu Makoto sent store flyers with QR codes to passers-by and women who did not have male companions, and at the same time tried to avoid patrolling the streets to avoid being interrogated.

Soon, the flyer in hand had bottomed out. Makoto Kyushu returned to the front of the store, only to find a "closed" sign hanging on the door.

"What's going on?" As soon as he entered, he saw the store manager on the phone.

The manager here is called Ninosuke Saito, an old man with shiny little oily hair and a slim-fitting bartender suit.

When he was young, he was the top cowherd in Kamurocho, and even the years did not take away his charm, but instead made him as mellow and fragrant as red wine that had been stored for decades, and it is said that he was very popular with old aunts.

For some reason, the shopkeeper's facial features were frowning at this time, and his tone was rough and intense, as if he was arguing with someone on the phone.

"Well, what did you say?!" The shopkeeper took the phone and shouted, "You were knocked unconscious and beaten on the way to work, and now you are in the hospital?!" ”

Several male publicists stood next to the store manager and listened, their expressions also very solemn.

"What's wrong?" Kyushu asked puzzled.

A male PR colleague whispered: "Saint was also beaten on his way to work. ”

"Who did it?" Kyushu Cheng's face suddenly looked solemn.

"I don't know..."The male publicist hesitated, "Maybe I ran into a ruffian and was beaten by them unpleasantly..."

"Male public relations" itself is a custom profession that wanders in the gray area of the law, and many male public relations will do whatever it takes for the sake of performance, wantonly play with the feelings of customers, and squeeze the money of customers without any bottom line. He even did not hesitate to ruin the guests' homes and completely ruin their lives.

It is precisely because of this that male public relations are generally more hated than custom women, and it can be said that they have reached the point of complaining, and even street gangsters have to spit when they see them.

"In this way, the way of doing business has always been very aggressive. Every time, I have to squeeze the money out of the customer's body before I give up, and I have received a lot of complaints. Another male publicist speculated:

"Maybe I offended a guest and was beaten by someone hired by someone~"

Kamuro Town is a chaotic place where underworld forces and gray industries run rampant, and it is quite common to "hire murderers to hurt people", and a large number of ruffians and hooligans are willing to take this kind of work. As long as there are no fatalities, the police don't bother to care.

Suddenly, the manager of Saito hung up the phone and told the employees, "I'm going to go out, you guys stay and see the store!" ”

"Store manager, are you going to find Seiya?" A male publicist asked.

"I'll go to the hospital and find out about the situation by the way." The manager of Saito fastened a black cowboy hat to his head and prepared to go out: "He's my clerk, and I can't leave it alone." ”

"Stay safe, store manager." Kyushu Makomichi.

"Oh, don't go wrong." Store manager Saito glanced at Makoto Kyushu and replied lukewarmly: "I won't go back to the store today, you guys show me the store!" ”

After the store manager left, the employees began to get busy.

After 20 minutes of rectification, the store was back open. A male publicist opens the door of the store, ready to flip the door number from "closed" to "open".

At this moment, he couldn't help but gasp, and his eyes widened in shock.

Because when he opened the door, he found six or seven men wearing white smiling masks and holding thick and blunt instruments such as baseball bats and water pipes.

Dressed in cheap tracksuits, casual suits, or poorly embroidered jackets, the men looked like a gang of ruffians who had come to rob them.

"You.. You guys... What to do? The male publicist suddenly panicked, and warned with a stutter: "We're going to call the police, don't act rashly!" ”

As soon as the words fell, a masked hooligan picked up a baseball bat and smashed it on the head of the male publicist, letting out a crisp "Bang! With a bang, he rolled his eyes directly, as if he didn't think about the consequences at all.

Immediately afterward, the masked hooligans kicked the male publicist away like garbage and broke into the store.

"Hey! Who are you?! ”

Another male PR wanted to come forward to drink, but a masked hooligan picked up a hose stick without saying a word, smashed it on the male PR's stomach, and kicked him several times, knocking him to the ground.

Other masked hooligans began wielding sticks and smashing and vandalizing the store.

In the staff lounge backstage at the bar, the surviving clerks held their breath and trembled.

After noticing the abnormality, Makoto Kyushu escaped to the staff lounge with other male publicists and locked the door, which saved him.

There was a terrible crackling sound behind the door, apparently the masked hooligans wreaking havoc on the storefront.

Although they have called the police, the law and order in Kamuro Town is chaotic, and the efficiency of the police is extremely low. If you want to send enough police force to suppress six or seven armed hooligans, you will probably have to wait about twenty minutes.

By that time, the store had already been demolished beyond recognition.

That's why most of the storefronts in Kamurocho have to find shelter in the underworld.

"What's going on? Are they robbers? Makoto Kyushu was puzzled and tried to analyze rationally: "Although Kamuro Town is very chaotic, it won't be to ransack the store in broad daylight, right?" ”

"It doesn't look like a robbery, it's more like they're here to smash the field." An old male publicist hugged his head and thought hard:

"Eighty percent of them are gangsters from Kamurocho, someone must have hired them!"

"It's a gangster, isn't it the underworld..."Kyushu Makoto thoughtfully.

In the country of Wano, there is a line between "gangsters" and "underworlds", but there is a world of difference.

The underworld is a regular set of wicked thugs, usually dressed in suits and leather shoes, more abiding by the law and the rules of the road, and the better ones will also talk about "benevolence and righteousness".

To put it bluntly, gangsters are unemployed vagrants, who usually wander the streets idlely, without any organization, let alone rules.

The biggest difference between the two is that gangsters will stab people to death in order to grab a thousand dollars, while the underworld will not. Because the underworld has long made a lot of money through gray industries and illegal businesses, it doesn't look down on the high-risk and low-reward business of "robbery" at all.

"Gathering is a piece of, and scattering is sparse", this is what these "gangsters" are talking about. They often gather crowds to make trouble for a small profit, and they will scatter and flee before the police come, lurking in the corners of the city, like countless cockroaches in the house, and the police authorities can't do anything about them.

"But our store didn't provoke anyone, did we? Why was someone hired to smash the field? Makoto Kyushu then asked.

"How do I know! It's just that this kind of thing happened when the store manager was away..."The male public relations grabbed his hair anxiously: "You are so curious, go and ask the store manager later!" ”

At this point, Kyushu Makoto did not continue to ask, but found a hot water kettle in the lounge, connected the socket and began to boil water.

Outside were six or seven ruffians armed with blunt weapons, their identities were unknown, their purpose was unknown, and they didn't know if there were any other reinforcements.

Master taught him that before fighting, he should judge the situation and not fight if he is not sure or necessary, even if he runs away.

Running away is shameful but useful, and meaningless recklessness is the most humiliating.

It's like he subdued the gunman in his last life, also because he was ninety percent sure. If the gangsters used a non-single-shot home-made shotgun, but a repeating automatic rifle, then Kyushu Makoto would definitely have escaped faster than anyone else, so as not to add another corpse to the scene.

So as long as those masked hooligans don't break into the break room and attack their employees, Kyushu Makoto doesn't plan to risk his life - anyway, the police will arrive sooner or later, and they are hiding here, human life is much more important than property.

As soon as Makoto Kyushu thought so, he heard the door of the lounge be slammed several times, and the lock made a painful "creaking" sound.

"They... They're breaking in! A male publicist said in horror.

"Block the door with the couch!" Another male publicist hurriedly pushed the sofa.

But he was too late. The not-so-sturdy iron door soon became bumped and kicked open with a masked rogue.

The masked rogue walked in with a baseball bat in his hand, scanning the room with a terrifying masked smile.

Several male publicists immediately sat on their backs in fright, their legs trembling.

"Hey, are you really going to kill us all..."Kyushu Makoto helplessly held his forehead and sighed.

Master also taught him that if he encounters a critical juncture where there is no way to retreat and his life is endangered, even if there is a huge disparity in the strength of the enemy and us, he must not hesitate to choose to fight, and he must hold the consciousness of dying and living together.

Because in times of crisis, we must not give the initiative to the enemy and pin our own safety on the mercy of the enemy.

The kettle on the table was opened, and there was a "buzzing" ringing sound, as if to say "it's OK".

"Anyway, let's defend ourselves..."

Makoto Kyushu grabbed the handle of the kettle with one hand, grabbed the umbrella with the other, and struck briskly towards the masked hooligan who broke in.