Chapter Twelve: Now This Is a True Delinquent!

“Stand up straight!” Aoki’s mouth twitched as he forced the guy—who was a head taller than him—to put his hands down. With a rather disgruntled sigh, he straightened his face and said solemnly, “If you want to be my follower, it’s not impossible.”

“Listen carefully.” Aoki’s sharp mind was already working at high speed.

Maeda Tiger’s face was lit with excitement, staring at Aoki with utmost seriousness.

“First, you’re not allowed to bully the weak. If people don’t mess with me, I don’t mess with them.” As soon as Aoki finished, he saw Maeda’s eyes shine, the words quietly repeating from his lips: “If people don’t mess with me, I don’t mess with them… Brilliant, brilliant, these words sum it up perfectly…”

Looking at his somewhat crazed expression, as if he’d found some kind of martial arts mantra in that phrase, Aoki couldn’t help but wonder—had this world never heard such a saying?

“Second, dye your red hair back. Thugs with garish hair colors are just low-level punks at a glance.” Aoki eyed his thick mop of red hair with a wicked smile, “There’s a saying—‘I became bald, and I became stronger.’ I wonder if you can grasp the true meaning of those words.”

Maeda’s face showed some resistance at this, but quickly firmed as he thought it over: if this is the price of getting stronger, he could accept it. Maybe Aoki’s strength really did come from being bald? With this thought, Maeda decisively nodded.

Well, his resolve’s not bad! Originally, Aoki just wanted to discourage him, but now he began to take things more seriously. Clearing his throat, he continued, “Third, you can’t be late or leave early, and your grades can’t be too poor. At the end of every term, your exam results must at least be average for the class.”

That one was a bit tougher. Maeda’s face twisted in struggle and he hesitated, “Boss, I really would like to get good grades, but… it’s really hard.”

Aoki considered this. These kids didn’t have his golden finger, and if they’d been skipping classes for years, catching up on missed lessons wouldn’t be easy.

But still, Aoki didn’t want these hot-blooded youths, after following him, to have nothing in their heads but impulsiveness, only to finish three years of high school unable to go to college, resigned to a lifetime of back-breaking work with no prospects. If he really was going to take on followers, he wanted these kids to have a way out.

“In any case, you can fail in your grades, but never in effort. If you can’t manage that, give up now.” There was no room for negotiation.

Maeda’s breathing grew heavy, his inner turmoil obvious, but in the end, he gritted his teeth and nodded, “Alright, I may not be smart, and might not learn it all, but I’ll work hard.”

Only now did Aoki smile with satisfaction, “Good. The rest I’ll explain together.”

“If you see injustice, lend a hand. If you see someone bullying the weak, help if you can—if you can’t beat them, at least call the police. That’s not too hard, right?” Seeing Maeda nod, Aoki went on, “Be kind. If you see an old lady trying to cross the street, help her. If a homeless man is starving, give what you can afford to help. Can you do that?”

Maeda’s face twisted with confusion. He opened his mouth, then voiced his doubt, “But… but if we do that, are we still delinquents?”

“Good question.” Aoki’s face was solemn, his bald head gleaming in the sun. “What is a delinquent? Many think it’s breaking the law, defying morals, seeking a sense of power by preying on the weak, being feared by others. But in my eyes, those people are just failures—losers who brand their own defeat as freedom under the label of ‘delinquent.’”

“The true delinquent is a rebel in spirit—someone who doesn’t blindly follow the crowd, who thinks for themselves, who does what others can’t understand, yet is right. In the eyes of others, we break with their ways of living, so we are called delinquents. But in my eyes, what we do should be just, should be right.”

“They call us delinquents only because we dare step where they won’t, do what they fear. Everyone is angered by injustice, but how many actually act to help?”

At this moment, Aoki looked just like some charismatic cult leader, his words flowing effortlessly, his appeal so magnetic that he seemed like a speaker standing on a grand stage. Everyone knew when Jack Ma said, “I don’t love money,” or “I have no concept of money,” it was utter nonsense, but still, people couldn’t help but wonder, is it true? Maybe I just don’t understand because I’m not at his level.

Thus, even if they didn’t fully agree, no one dared challenge his views, and deep inside, they couldn’t help but feel this man was extraordinary.

Maeda Tiger felt just like that. The words Aoki spoke shattered his old definition of a delinquent, only for a new, dazzling image to rise in his heart—a statue of the true delinquent, bearing the face of the bald man before him.

“Tell me, in other people’s eyes, who am I?” Aoki threw out the killer question, his gaze full of hypnotic power, one hand familiarly resting on Maeda’s shoulder.

Maeda’s eyes were dazed, as if hypnotized, murmuring, “A delinquent… Even I, when I see you, can only see a delinquent…”

“Exactly. But what am I, really?” Aoki lifted his head, face resolute, just as when he’d worn a red scarf and taken an oath as a child. “Even yesterday, the fight with you only happened because you tried to bully me, and I fought back in anger. But aside from that?”

Aoki’s face was filled with righteousness. “Aside from that, what have I done? I haven’t been late or slept in class like you. Instead, I study hard and listen attentively.”

“But even so, in their eyes, I’m still a delinquent. Why? Because I am truly free. I never care what they think. I…” Aoki bit his tongue—having come this far, he couldn’t back down—so with a face full of heroic sacrifice, he declared, “My bald head, to them, is a symbol of being a delinquent. But to me, it’s a challenge to the rules of the world, a rebuttal to ordinary vision.”

“That’s right, I’m a delinquent, because I’m different from them; I do what they won’t, I look how they don’t, but I am myself, a firework of a different color…”

After finishing, fighting the urge to retch, Aoki patted Maeda’s shoulder, looking at the bewildered but utterly worshipful eyes before him, and said calmly, “Have you understood? This is the method and reason for my strength.”

“To toil in darkness, yet serve the light—this is what a delinquent should be! And when your high school days are over, when you shed the name of delinquent, you will become a true—man!” Aoki patted Maeda’s shoulder again, turned away with an inscrutable air, though inside he was about to burst from holding in his laughter.

In Maeda’s eyes, Aoki’s retreating figure was as grand as a mountain, as deep as the sea, even strangely reminiscent of his father’s broad back when he was a child.

“I understand! I understand!” Maeda’s legs gave out and he knelt on the ground, gazing after Aoki’s calm, steady stride with reverence, and choked out, “So this is a true delinquent, this is what it means to be a real man… Dad—no, Boss! I understand now!”

Understand, my foot! Aoki covered his mouth, quickening his pace.

No, no, he had to find somewhere to let his laughter out or he’d die from holding it in.

High charisma is truly a blessing!

[Task: Comrade completed.]
[Completion: Perfect.]
[Reward: +1 Charisma. +1 Skill Slot.]