Ryuji was truly stunned.
He and Kiri had both assumed she was dead—so they just left her behind without a second thought.
But now, here she was, swaying unsteadily in front of him, those unbelievable breasts of hers jiggling with each shaky step as she slowly moved toward the trash bin.
Her condition still looked bad, sure. But it was obvious—she had managed to survive. Somehow.
Just as he figured she wouldn't bother answering him, the female brawler suddenly opened her mouth.
"…Hah… why…"
She looked up at him, and he could clearly see the bruises and cuts covering her once-beautiful face. The swelling and blood had distorted her features into something nearly unrecognizable.
Add in the stench of sewage caked on her body, and it only got worse.
"…It was a gamble."
And with that, as if all the strength had drained from her body, she collapsed onto the filthy ground. Her generous curves sent a splash of grimy water flying into the air, and her breath became shallow again. Ryuji could tell—she was trying to breathe, desperately, but it wasn't working.
"A gamble, huh…"
That meant she was as good as dead.
He turned to leave.
But right then, the other brawler—the one who had landed the finishing blow on her yesterday—stepped out of the shadows. This time, she wasn't wearing a standard fighting outfit. Quite the opposite—her outfit could barely be called clothing at all.
A black leather jacket hung open over a chest wrapped tightly in bandages, leaving very little to the imagination. Her entire body was decorated with spikes and chains, like she was cosplaying a dominatrix straight out of hell. She glanced at the fallen brawler, then at Ryuji—and smirked.
"Yo, pretty boy. You into that sickly piece of trash? I gotta warn you, she stinks and she's crawling with disease. But hey, what about me instead? I'll give you a discount—just one gold coin. I'm the reigning champ around here, y'know. But you'll have to buy your own antidotes. I'm not liable if you get poisoned to death mid-thrust."
As she spoke, she pulled her jacket aside, revealing her muscular arms, underarms, a collarbone that had clearly been pierced by something sharp, and blood-streaked cleavage.
Bruises marred her body, and her face which had been taken care of as best as possible was smeared with blood and cuts.
Brutal—but in its own twisted way, beautiful.
What a bold woman.
Still… was this really how street brawlers lived?
He stared at her—someone who looked like she could beat him to death with one hand—and shook his head.
"No thanks, miss. As tempting and gorgeous as you are, I've got things to do today. I was just curious why she lost to you. And also… why the hell would I need antidotes to sleep with you?"
Though he had just complimented her, the woman's face twisted into a scowl.
She looked at him like he was something rotting at the bottom of a gutter.
"Keep mocking me, brat, and I'll rip your damn mouth off. Think anyone's gonna stop me? As for why she gambled? Simple—she got sick, needed treatment, didn't have money. So she took out a high-interest loan and started fighting in underground matches. Bet everything on winning. She lost. Couldn't pay us back. Now her body's falling apart, rotting from the inside. Poisoned to hell. You couldn't even sell her to a brothel. What else was she gonna do?"
Her voice dripped with irritation.
"If you're that interested in her body, stuff her in a sack and take her home. Wash her up, she might last a few rounds—assuming the toxins in her don't kill you first. Still warm, still breathing. Better than a corpse. Usually. Then again, street brawlers' bodies rot so badly from the poison, maggots won't even touch 'em."
Whoa. That escalated fast. R-18 much?!
"So she's not a gambling addict, just someone out of options. And for the record, I wasn't lying—you are beautiful. I just wish there weren't so many scars."
Ryuji meant every word.
But the moment he said it, a metallic, sickly-sweet scent hit his nose.
And then, the brawler grabbed him by the collar.
"What, you planning to save her? Fine by me—just don't forget: if she survives, I'm still coming for my money. And I warned you already—mock me again and I'll tear your face off!"
She glared at him, full of murderous intent. Nothing pissed her off more than someone using "pretty" as a backhanded insult.
"I was serious. But… whatever."
Under her stunned gaze, Ryuji's hand slid directly onto her left breast.
Softness filled his palm. Despite the texture of the bandages, it still felt satisfying—warm, firm, with just the right amount spilling over his hand. The tight binding added a strange new layer to the sensation, one he wasn't used to.
The warmth of the street Fighter's body passed through his fingertips. Though her scent wasn't exactly pleasant—more like a mix of sweat and iron—there was no denying it: her breasts were soft. Comfortingly soft.
But something wasn't right.
"Ow?" he frowned and lifted his hand, staring at the needle sticking out of his palm. He looked at the equally stunned woman in front of him.
"You're hiding traps down there? Seriously?!"
That jolted the brawler out of her confusion. She exploded.
"What the hell are you doing, you pervert?!"
She had absolutely no idea what was going through his mind. Was this really the time to be asking that kind of question?! And even if she was open to selling herself, this wasn't how any of it worked!
"I was grabbing your tits. You said it was one gold coin to sleep with you, right? So what's wrong with paying fifty silver just to touch your boobs?"
Ryuji spoke with absolute conviction, even pulling out a gold coin and flashing it like he was offering the deal of the century.
"…Are you mocking me?!" she shouted.
But he remained unfazed. He casually yanked the needle out of his hand, the sharp tip glinting with a drop of blood. If this had been before, he might've actually been scared of her—but now? One glance at the gun tucked into his inventory gave him all the confidence he needed.
With calm precision, he tossed the needle aside... and grabbed her breast again.
When it came to women like Kiri or Lux, the so-called "proper girls," he always had a mental barrier. But someone like this—who openly offered her body for money?
There was no pressure at all. In fact, teasing her felt like second nature.
"No offense meant," he said with a smirk. "I really do think you're attractive. But if the price goes up, can I throw in some thigh and ass rubs too? I'll skip the sex for now, though. Judging by how even this got me stabbed, I'm seriously concerned my dick might find razor blades in there. Still… if you can show me a clean bill of health and guarantee no hidden weapons inside, I'm not against paying. Ten gold per session—deal?"
The brawler was caught off guard. She slowly let go of his collar, her anger slipping into an awkward silence.
"…Tch. I don't think my body's worth that much," she muttered. "After all, a young girl is only worth 10 gold coins…"
He could swear he saw a hint of red on her cheeks, but after a moment's hesitation, she lowered her voice and asked:
"You'd really pay ten gold?"
"Absolutely," he answered without hesitation. "Your body's is really attractive to me."
As he spoke, his hand slid downward, tracing the defined abs on her stomach and the firm curve of her thigh. The muscle under her skin felt tight, powerful—yet full and womanly.
This was a physique you'd never find on Earth. Even Kiri couldn't compete.
Sure, her legs weren't slender and model-like due to all the training—but that wasn't a flaw. It was a different kind of beauty.
Slim legs aren't everything.These full, toned thighs, defined but still soft to the touch—that was art.
But the real highlight?
There was a noticeable thigh gap between her legs.
Ryuji almost shed tears. A natural triangle-shaped gap? In this world? That was a rare and precious thing. Add to that her unique, no-nonsense charm and—yeah—he was hooked.
The street fighter, however, was clearly struggling. She hadn't expected Ryuji to actually mean what he was saying—or to be genuinely into her muscular body.
And then there was the smell. That mix of sweat and blood was enough to make anyone dizzy. And most importantly—
"You're gonna have to brush your teeth, take a full bath, and get checked by a doctor for STDs. And also—"
He raised his hand again, fresh blood now dripping from a cut across his palm. The blade had been hidden along the inside of her thigh—right where his fingers had just wandered.
"You seriously need help. Who the hell hides weapons down there?!"
~~~~~~~~~
Bonus chapter target: 100 PS.