【Damn it… they completely disregard me, don’t they…】
That feeling of being treated like a mere pawn, toyed with at someone else’s whim, filled Aina Saiten with a humiliation unlike anything she had ever experienced.
How arrogant! How mocking! How utterly degrading!
It was as if her entire existence— Aina Saiten herself, the deep feelings she had poured into Kaoru Hoshitani, the pain and helpless struggle inside her heart at this very moment—
To the eyes of that hidden observer lurking in the shadows, it was nothing but a crude, ridiculous stage play meant for their amusement!
She was merely a clown on the stage, and they were the lofty audience watching above.
【No… I absolutely will not allow this to happen…】
A nearly obsessive determination ignited like wildfire in the darkness, blazing fiercely within her chest, where rage and fear intertwined.
—————
Rika Kawasaki’s mother and father were a pair of successful entrepreneurs, yet simultaneously a pair of failed parents.
Their success was so dazzling that they had built from nothing a massive restaurant group, one of the top in all of Neon City, boasting numerous brands and chain stores.
Their names frequently appeared in finance magazines, serving as a benchmark admired by countless aspiring entrepreneurs.
Yet, they were so utterly failed parents that their daughter never grew into the qualified heir they expected.
Instead, she became the leader of a delinquent group—a resounding slap to their polished public image.
From the moment Rika Kawasaki was born, the busy couple never spent a full day truly accompanying their daughter.
Little Rika was thus left in the care of high-priced nannies hired in rotation and her aging grandparents.
However, the Kawasaki Couple also had to expend significant energy managing their decades-old old shop, meaning the love and companionship they could offer their granddaughter were likewise fragmented and limited.
From a psychological standpoint, a child raised in such a family environment — where parental roles are chronically and severely absent — is highly prone to a severe lack of security and belonging, resulting in a profound sense of low self-worth and inferiority complex.
This often comes hand in hand with extreme difficulty in managing emotions and an inability to express or process inner anger and loss in a healthy way.
All these consequences were directly reflected in Rika Kawasaki’s childhood.
Until the third grade of elementary school, she was the “invisible person” in her class — the one classmates deliberately or inadvertently bullied, isolated, and excluded.
She was silent and withdrawn, with timid eyes, and though her clothes were expensive, she always looked out of place among her peers.
The turning point of her fate came one afternoon in third grade.
Rika’s brand-new pencil case, printed with cartoon characters, was snatched away by a tall, burly girl in the class, who then mockingly raised it high above her head.
To reclaim what was hers, the usually frail and quiet girl suddenly lunged like a provoked wild animal.
In the end, the girl lost half an ear — bitten off.
By all rights, given Rika’s stature and strength at the time, it would have been impossible for her to defeat a boy who was a head taller than she was.
But the way she fought was far beyond what a child that age could comprehend — exceptionally cruel and ruthless, driven by a reckless madness.
Even after her nose was broken by a punch during the scuffle, blood instantly smearing across her tender face, and the searing pain causing her vision to darken, she never once backed down or hesitated.
Instead, as if she couldn’t feel the pain, she wiped the blood from her face and continued to attack fiercely, her eyes blazing with ferocity.
That suicidal determination completely terrified the girl she fought.
Afterward, Rika’s “successful” parents dealt with the violent incident in their usual efficient and “pragmatic” way.
They paid the injured girl’s parents an exorbitant sum of compensation and used some social connections to ensure the girl “voluntarily” transferred schools.
There was no apology, no deep investigation into the reasons behind their daughter’s behavior — only cold indifference, swiftly resolving the problem with money and power.
Thus, Rika Kawasaki’s “notoriety” spread.
Before long, a group of delinquents gathered around her, respectfully calling her “Leader.”
After all, Rika Kawasaki was not only a skilled fighter but also had plenty of pocket money…
But regardless, as social beings, deep down people always crave a group to belong to and a sense of identity.
Isolated emotionally like an island, Rika finally found an identity and position among this group of “delinquent” girls, gaining a twisted form of “recognition.”
From then on, she began systematically learning karate, kendo, and other more practical street fighting techniques.
Thanks to her solid physical condition and innate ferocity, she became more and more adept in the art of fighting, and her reputation grew louder.
Gradually, this originally loose group of delinquent girls evolved into a more tightly organized gang, notorious throughout the area.
Night had fallen, and the dim streetlights flickered on.
Accompanied by the deep, penetrating roar of an engine, a sleek and aggressively styled heavy motorcycle steadily pulled up in front of a somewhat secluded detached villa on the outskirts.
The heavy bike’s body tilted obediently under the skilled control of its rider, maintaining balance.
Her slender left leg was firmly planted on the ground, encased in tight black leather pants.
Her right leg lifted smoothly, the studded heel of her thick Martin boot slicing through the air with rebellious force, stamping heavily on the concrete ground with a clear sound.
She raised her hand, unclasped the buckle of her helmet, and smoothly removed the cool-looking full-face helmet.
In an instant, a tousled mane of light blonde shoulder-length hair was released, strands disheveled from the helmet’s pressure, some clinging damply to her sweaty temples and neck, adding a wild, untamed air.
The dim streetlight traced the sharp contours of her side profile and those cold, steel-gray eyes that stood out in the night.
“Leader Kawasaki, you’re here.”
Two scrappy-looking junior members, who had been standing guard outside the villa, instantly dropped their casual expressions upon seeing her and hurried over with eager steps, respectfully taking the heavy helmet from Rika Kawasaki’s hands.
Rika merely nodded slightly at the two, acknowledging their greeting without any extra expression.
She strode straight forward and pushed open the villa’s heavy iron door.
In an instant, a wave of deafening rock music, raucous laughter, and the smell of smoke and alcohol rushed out like a broken dam, assaulting the senses.
“The Leader is here!”
“Leader!”
“Good evening, Leader!”
……