My Youth Romantic Comedy Is Wrong As Expected

Page 258

The "Whoa~" gesture filled the audience with anticipation.

Shiroyama, acting as the referee, said expressionlessly:

"...You're really strong, senior."

"Yes, that's what makes the competition exciting."

As I answered, I casually checked my collar, cuffs, and belt. Shiroyama looked puzzled upon hearing my words.

Don't underestimate Shiroyama because of his appearance; he's actually quite intelligent. That's why he's pondering the meaning of that sentence. In fact, Shiroyama explored various possibilities on his own before consulting the Service Society, demonstrating that he's thoughtful and capable of making appropriate judgments.

Therefore, I can expect this from him.

Moreover, because he is only "not bad-witted," even if he can read the implied meaning, he cannot understand the deeper implications.

In short, I'll make the first move, the hidden piece. This is a kind of insurance; it's best not to use it if possible.

The senior student skillfully changed into his judo uniform, walked into the competition area, waved away the first-year club members, and came to the position facing me.

His eyes, as he looked at me, burned with the raging flames of anger and shame.

However, when it comes to discerning eyesight, I won't lose to him. No matter how sparkly something is, it will appear dull in my eyes.

Thanks to this, I was able to see this senior student clearly.

"Both sides bow... Begin!"

Chengshan called out the commands in a deep voice.

In the beginning, my senior and I tested the waters by taking a step forward and then retreating back to where we started, repeating this process over and over again.

We don't suddenly pounce on each other. Judo emphasizes "handling," and in PE class, I also practice handling movements that don't require a partner's assistance.

Take care of yourself every day.

I have honed my skills to perfection, to the point that even my daily life has become extremely passive.

I know very well that even if I give it my all, I can't possibly beat my senior. I'm not going to be arrogant, so I try to keep my distance from him and look for an opportunity to strike.

However, those in the know can easily see through the tricks of laymen. The senior knew I wouldn't act rashly, taking a bold step that would disrupt the balance between us.

By the time I realized it, he had already grabbed me and was sweeping my pivot foot from the outside in.

After a moment of weightlessness from freefall, my body hit the ground, and I felt an impact on my back.

"It hurts so much..."

I couldn't help but groan.

What was with his speed just now? I didn't even have time to react...

The senior student believed he had won and returned to the starting line.

The audience sighed, feeling rather bored, and got up to leave.

—If you're going to make a move, you have to do it now.

"Ugh, I can't stand it, the sweat on the ground is so slippery!"

I shamelessly said those words.

The upperclassman, the audience, Yukinoshita, Yuigahama—everyone looked at me with a "what the hell is this guy talking about?" expression. To be honest, even I wanted to ask that myself. No one could possibly believe such an obvious excuse.

It doesn't matter, I don't mind, as long as one person accepts.

Chengshan neither raised the flag nor uttered a sound.

So I deliberately asked him:

"Let me confirm, slipping doesn't count, right?"

Shiroyama simply stared at me and nodded in response:

"Both sides return to the starting line."

Why is this? Because it's a "performance".

The audience erupted in uproar, and the senior student, enraged, sternly questioned Chengshan:

"Hey! I'm winning by all accounts! What slipping? Don't be ridiculous..."

However, he was also looking at his feet.

There were still traces left on the ground when the wooden pedestal was dragged away. In the past, the judo club would always clean up after each match, but unexpectedly, due to Hayama's sudden situation, Xue took over the match in the chaos, and the oversight occurred.

"But that was clearly a win!"

The senior student remained undeterred. However, the verdict was not to be overturned—no, it should be said that even Shiroyama himself found it difficult to decide whether to re-examine the verdict.

Even someone like me, who knows very little about sports, knows that referees almost never admit to wrong calls. This applies to everything from student matches and professional athletes' games to major international tournaments.

Moreover, the regulations contain a killer feature.

"Senior, if you disagree with the ruling, you'll be penalized for a foul and lose the game."

"What?"

The senior student shifted his gaze over, his eyes now like those of a ferocious beast. Honestly, it was terrifying. I shrugged, trying to hide my trembling voice.

"Isn't that how society is? It's so cruel."

My senior was practically bursting with rage. He knew all too well that this was something he said most often. Even without him uttering a word of threat, I could clearly sense that he would torture me to pieces next time.

"Both sides return to the starting line."

Shiroyama announced it again, and only then did the senior reluctantly return to his original position. When he faced me, he glared at me fiercely with bloodshot eyes.

Not good, the situation is very bad.

That little trick I just pulled, called a "performance," was a one-time insurance measure; it wouldn't work the second time. Not only would my senior and the audience not accept it, but Shiroyama wouldn't protect me anymore. Shiroyama's face was ashen, showing the immense pressure he was under.

"start."

His commands this time were not as forceful as before.

The audience's voices gradually subsided. Some people couldn't bear to watch any longer and prepared to leave. My panting and my senior's roar became even more noticeable.

Therefore, what I am about to say will be clearly heard by the senior.

"That's incredible."

The senior student seemed inexperienced in being spoken to by an opponent during a competition, and a look of surprise appeared on his face. The audience also noticed me speaking and turned their attention back to me.

"Senior, you were admitted to university through sports, yet you still have time to come back so often."

Upon hearing this, he immediately stopped in his tracks.

"...It's so noisy, stop talking nonsense."

He grabbed my collar forcefully.

However, his gaze was not on me.

He looked behind me, then around to the left and right, observing all the audience members.

The audience was buzzing with discussion, perhaps surprised that the match had suddenly become so close, or perhaps curious about what we were talking about.

However, from the senior's perspective, he would probably think that everyone was in a commotion because of what I said.

So I tried to remain calm, observe his reactions, and continue talking.

"University clubs are for real, completely different from high school clubs. The days of having fun like this only lasted until high school."

"shut up!"

The senior student excitedly took a step closer, intending to settle the score as soon as possible to shut me up.

I took a step back to maintain a fixed distance.

Then, I smiled slightly at him and said:

"This society is indeed very cruel."

How many people actually heard this?

Although the number of spectators has decreased significantly since the start of the match, the current number is still more than sufficient.

To be honest, I don't care whether anyone is actually listening or not, as long as I can make my seniors wonder if "everyone is listening to our conversation."

"Senior, you're absolutely right, that's why you came back here, isn't it?"

"..."

The senior student was caught off guard by his own words and could no longer speak.

In this way, I achieved my goal—to denounce my senior in front of everyone, to trample on his character and dignity as a senior, and to make him think that everyone heard what I said.

Whether others actually heard it is another matter.

What I need to do is make the senior student think about whether he has the face to face everyone.

The outcome of this match is no longer the point.

To be honest, from the beginning, the senior's gaze kept wandering. He cared a lot about how the people around him perceived him.

The senior student was clearly listless. I sensed this from the first time I spoke to him.

When a person romanticizes their past, it indicates that their heart is beginning to fragility.

A person who only talks about his past martial prowess is showing signs of aging.

A person who tramples others underfoot to gain peace of mind is no longer the person he once was.

The senior student probably experienced setbacks in university, lost confidence and dignity, which is why he fled back here.

He may not have originally intended to come back, but he came back on a whim. He was surprised to find that he felt good about it, and from then on, he started to come regularly.

However, this does not justify his presence here. From the junior's perspective, someone parachuted in would only disrupt the club's operations.

This society doesn't have the time or inclination to take care of those who come back with their tails between their legs.

Therefore, he must be driven away and banished so that he will never return.

Yes, what the senior said is absolutely right—this is a cruel society.

The senior student bit his lip tightly, and the arm that was gripping my sleeve had already lost its strength.

I think he won't show up again.

Once you've escaped, you can only keep running away forever.

However, to be on the safe side, it would be best to defeat him on this field.

I must make him experience the greatest humiliation of losing to an amateur in front of the audience, and completely shatter his self-esteem.

So I delivered my final blow.

"You didn't come back here, you 'escaped' back here."

This move seemed to work smoothly, and the senior's expression was as if he had been slapped in the face.

If you're going to attack, now's the time!

I tugged at my senior's sleeve as bait, and he easily took the bait, applying force to his hands again. It seemed my provocation had been successful.

It's here! Don't resist, pay attention to the starting point, the fulcrum, and the point of application.

Having taken judo classes and experienced being thrown once, I've mastered my opponent's attack patterns. It seems the saying "being thrown is also a form of practice" isn't necessarily wrong.

Poor technique can be compensated for by strength.

Victory is achieved by luring your opponent into a position where you can throw them. That's the power of strength. The next step is not to resist, but to leave everything to gravity, the law of inertia, and your fighting instincts.

I was about to throw my senior over my shoulder when I suddenly heard a calm voice behind me.

"It's so noisy! I know all about this!"

The next moment, I landed on the ground.

The referee quickly raised his flag.

A round of enthusiastic applause erupted in the judo arena to celebrate the champion.

"One win! Match over!"

This is the clearest and most melodious sound I have ever heard from Seongsan.

In contrast, the loser's voice was both muffled and full of unbearable grievances.