ISEKAI? More like I See Crap!-Chapter 167: No Swords, No Mercy ( )

"Mama’s gonna be mad at me..." the boy whispered, ears drooping.

But there was nothing he could do now.

With a sigh, he held his grocery bag tighter and looked toward the arena.

"...Guess I’ll just watch the match."

He sat near the edge of the crowd, squeezing between two barrels, as the excited beastkin roared in anticipation.

"I should tell Mother about this later... after dinner. Maybe."

"From the left corner! Celebrated by the citizens! The man, the myth, the lunatic—known only as The Crazy Guy!"

A wave of laughter and boos echoed from the stands. Some threw pebbles, others pointed and jeered at Hazuki, who stood alone, silent, his sword resting casually on his shoulder.

"And in the right corner! Our beloved Rank D adventurers—the ever-popular SilverRoad Party! A total of five strong! Led by their mighty Level 35 captain!"

The crowd roared in approval. Cheers shook the walls of the arena.

"Who’s gonna win this incredible showdown?! Will it be the lone lunatic, the man who talks to thin air?!"

"Boooooo!!!"

"Or will it be our favorite team—SilverRoad!!"

"Woooooo!!!" "SilverRoad! SilverRoad!"

A merchant near the front shouted, "Of course SilverRoad’s gonna win! Five against one! And that guy’s their leader — level 35!"

Another beastkin cheered, "Yeah! I’m betting on them too! That poor guy’s gonna get flattened!"

Laughter rippled through the stands.

Somewhere among them, the little boy from earlier clutched his empty coin pouch and whispered, "Please... be strong, crazy guy..."

"Are you both ready?" the beastkin referee asked, stepping between Hazuki and the SilverRoad party.

The girls of the SilverRoad group didn’t even bother to hide their sneers. One flicked her hair and sneered.

"Ugh, this guy? He looks like a broke alley rat pretending to be a warrior."

"Pfft, can he even swing that sword? He’s just all bark—like a stray mutt with a rusty blade."

Another chipped in with a smirk. "Maybe he’s hoping we’ll go easy on him ’cause we’re girls. Sorry, grandpa—we don’t do charity work!"

"Honestly, it’s just pathetic. I’ve seen beggars with more grace."

The last one added with a cruel grin, "Better bring a mop, old man. You’ll need it to clean up your pride after this."

Hazuki slowly raised his head and fixed them with a long, flat stare.

He took a step forward, then pointed directly at the party.

"Let me make something very clear before we start."

The crowd tensed slightly. Hazuki’s voice cut through the arena like a blade.

"I believe in gender equality. True, honest equality. That means I don’t care what’s between your legs when it’s time to fight."

He cracked his neck, eyes blazing with something wild.

"I’ve got no patience for people who scream about ’female privilege’ when it benefits them, and then cry ’not a real man’ when they’re called out."

He swung his sword once, the blade whistling through the air.

"So let me tell you something now—"

Hazuki pointed his finger like a dagger.

"Bitch, I will dropkick a girl if I have to!"

The entire arena gasped.

Ridan, still invisible to everyone but Hazuki, gave a slow clap in the air. "Now that’s the gender equality I signed up for."

"Hoh~ I was wondering how this would turn out," the armored man said with a smug grin, pacing a few steps with theatrical flair. "That tiny little toothpick of yours versus this?"

He raised his massive greatsword overhead, letting the sunlight gleam off its polished edge.

"Behold—the masterpiece that pierced a Minotaur in half... in just two slashes," he declared proudly, kissing the blade’s edge. "This isn’t just a weapon. This is art. Refined, majestic, unstoppable."

He glanced at Hazuki’s small, light-green sword and flung his head back with a loud laugh, waving dismissively.

"And that? That chipped butter knife of yours? I’ll humiliate you with style. You’ll be crying before that blade even touches you!"

The audience erupted in laughter, the SilverRoad girls grinning confidently.

Hazuki stared at the man, unimpressed. Then he casually dug his pinky into his nose.

"Nice sword," he muttered, still picking at an itch. His other hand hung loose at his waist, fingers draped over the hilt of his short sword, relaxed like he wasn’t even trying.

"You talk like you’ve already won."

"Damn right I have," the armored man sneered.

Just above them, Ridan floated in his invisible spirit form, now holding sparkly magical pom-poms and decked out in glowing cheer gear.

"Crush them! Fight them! Punch them! Kick them!! GYAAHAHAHAHA!!" he howled with maniacal glee, spinning midair like a deranged cheerleader fueled by caffeine and chaos.

Hazuki didn’t even flinch. His gaze stayed fixed on the clown in armor. His body was relaxed—but his eyes?

His eyes told a different story.

"ARE YOU ALL READY!!??" the announcer’s voice thundered across the arena, shaking the very air.

The crowd erupted in a deafening cheer—beastkin of all shapes and sizes roared, whistled, and stomped their feet.

"ALL CONTESTANTS! DRAW YOUR WEAPONS!" the referee shouted with both arms raised.

A sudden silence swept over the arena.

The tension thickened.

The four girls from SilverRoad moved in perfect unison—each one drawing their weapon smoothly, like a well-rehearsed dance.

A bow, a staff, a pair of heavy gauntlets, and a gleaming pair of dual blades caught the sunlight and flashed under the sky.

They were ready.

And Hazuki?

Still picking his nose with his pinky finger.

The referee blinked. "...Hey. Crazy guy. Draw your sword."

Hazuki tilted his head lazily, eyes fixed on the group ahead. "Huh? With them?"

He looked at each of the girls like they were over-decorated mannequins. Then he let out a sigh.

"Nah. They just need a punch and a kick."

The crowd burst into mocking laughter and boos.

"Oi! You’re gonna die for free if you don’t use your weapon!" the referee barked, half annoyed, half worried.

Hazuki cracked his neck, then his knuckles—pop, pop, pop—and took a casual step forward.

"Like I said... I’m not in the mood today."

He rolled his shoulders, lowering into a relaxed stance.

"I need to vent some stress. And nothing’s more satisfying than using my fists."

He smiled faintly.

But it wasn’t friendly.

It was the grin of someone about to throw down—and who didn’t care about the consequences.

"Ugh, suit yourself, crazy guy," the referee muttered, already regretting his job. "Don’t blame us if you get killed in this arena."

"I’m going to kill you, weakling," the armored man growled, arrogance dripping from his voice as he lifted his greatsword, pointing it toward Hazuki.

"We support you, leader!" one of the girls shouted.

"BUFF UP!!!"

A surge of magic erupted around the party. Glows of red, blue, and green wrapped around them as enhancement skills activated—boosting strength, speed, and defense. The girls’ eyes glimmered with focus. The leader’s armor hummed softly as the enchantments took hold.

The crowd roared again.

Hazuki took a deep breath, then slowly slid one foot back, lowering his body into a balanced stance. His hands clenched into fists.

No sword.

Just fists.

The referee raised his hand. "Ready—"

All eyes fixed on the arena.

"—GO!!"

His hand darted down, and he leapt back.

The arena shook as the armored man charged forward, greatsword raised high like a cleaver ready to split Hazuki in two.

"RAAAARGH—!!!"

The swing came crashing down with deadly intent.

Hazuki barely moved.

A smirk curled on his lips. "Heh... too slow."

CLANG!!

The massive blade slammed down where Hazuki had just stood—yet the "crazy guy" was already at his side, unscathed.

"...Even goblins are faster than this," Hazuki muttered with a smirk.

( End Of Chapter )