I Found a Hole in my Yard. It Might Be a Dungeon, but That’s Now my Garbage Dump

[That brat…… I’ll never forgive him……]

On the other hand, the yakuza and the tortoiseshell glasses couldn’t calm down as they were kicked out of the room by a layman.

If a layman even looks down on him, he couldn’t call himself someone who specializes in a violence-related work.

[With the situation like this, I say we just abduct him and bury him in the mountain……]

[No, killing him isn’t a good idea, Hougi-san. Hiroki is a money-making tree. Until we find out where he’s dumping his industrial waste, we have to keep him alive.]

Neither the yakuza nor the tortoiseshell glasses believed Hiroki’s explanation when he told them that “he’s stuffing them in the hole in his yard”.

Everyday, several 10-ton dump trucks full of industrial waste come and go on his property.

It’s obvious that if Hiroki dumps his garbage in a hole dug up in a corner of his yard, it would overflow in no time.

They were convinced that Hiroki was secretly transporting the garbage he had received to a secret waste dump.

[But you know what, if he’s roughed up a bit, won’t he start listening later?]

[……Killing is a “no”, okay?]

Thinking that doing that could make future dealings proceed more smoothly and it might be better to let the yakuza vent at this point, the tortoiseshell glasses reluctantly agreed.

★　★　★　★　★

On that day, as Hiroki was driving his mini-truck to the convenience store, the Mercedes Benz in front of him suddenly braked, blocking his way.

[Watch out!]

Hiroki managed to bring the truck to a sudden stop with a high-pitched squeal of the brakes, and stopping his truck, he got out of the car to complain to the reckless driver.

Thereupon, five people who didn’t look like respectable people got out of the Mercedes Benz that was blocking the road.

[Oi, oi, oi, this Mercedes is a special car that costs 200 million, you know? Whoa there, that’s some serious scratches over there!]

[Now that’s a problem, isn’t it? That’s gonna need at least a hundred million to fix it.]

[Hey, bro, why aren’t you saying something? You getting jitters there?]

The young man wearing a jersey in the middle of the group unnaturally caressed the Mercedes Benz and coarsely sneered.

Of course, there were no scratches on it.

After all, Hiroki’s truck is quite a few meters away from their Mercedes Benz.

[I wonder what you’re talking about? I have nothing to do with this.]

When Hiroki calmly replied, the young man wearing a jersey snapped.

[Shut up! You’re related to this!]

The young man wearing a jersey was famous in his group for his fighting skill.

He knew from experience that a layman would be intimidated by a punch to the face.

No matter how experienced someone is in martial arts, the young man believes that no one can beat him with his actual fighting experience.

The young man wearing a jersey’s confidence was even boosted by the fact that he had beaten many karate black-belters and judo veterans in the downtown’s nights.

The fist he swung, confident of his superiority in violence, stopped just before it caught Hiroki’s face.

No, his fist was stopped.

[Watch out there, what are you suddenly doing?]

The young man wearing a jersey was easily caught in Hiroki’s palm.

It wasn’t guarded, nor was it blocked, but was caught with the punch’s momentum completely stopped, just like those Chinese Martial Arts masters who use what they called “inner power”.

If the young man wearing a jersey had any experience in martial arts, he would have been surprised at the difference between their abilities, Hiroki’s skills being superior than his, and would have run away.

But the man only knew street fights, and as a result, he misjudged the situation and didn’t pull out.

[Y- You b*stard!]

The young man wearing a jersey raised his other fist and was about to strike again, but when his center of gravity moved behind him, Hiroki instantly pushed out the center of the man’s chest with the bottom of his palm.

Vigorously blown away just like a character from a gag manga, the young man wearing a jersey crashed nearby two of his friends and with the white of his eyes clearly seen, he fainted.

The hooligans, who had been told that it was just a simple job of beating up a middle-aged man, were clearly shaken.

[W- What the heck is he!? What the heck did he do?]

[Kempo? Karate?]

[I didn’t hear anything about this!]

Hearing what they said, Hiroki’s suspicions were confirmed.

These guys are the subordinates of that yakuza the other day.

[I’m just a layman that hasn’t really done anything special. You’re just slow and weak.]

That was what Hiroki personally felt.

These guys aren’t scary. They’re weak. Slow. Light. Frail.

Hiroki thought about how even though he just took a few steps, the two guys he approached weren’t able to react at all.

Just a light tap and their teeth were blown away.

He thought that if he had just pulled his arm down a bit, he might have immediately dislocated his shoulder and would be kissing the ground.

[For people who were supposed to be specializing in violence, you sure aren’t working out, aren’t you?]

Seeing Hiroki, who had literally knocked out another two of them “in the blink of an eye”, smiled and pointed out how they lack skills and training……

[H- He’s a monster……!]

Leaving those words, the demoralized hooligans drove off in their Mercedes Benz, leaving those who had collapsed on the street.

[……What about these guys? I’m not taking them to the hospital, okay? ……Well, whatever.]

Not deeply thinking about them, Hiroki got into his truck and headed towards the convenience store again.

After all, today was the release date of the last chapter of the weekly manga series that Hiroki had been following since his school days.

In Hiroki’s mind, that must be more important than the well-being of hooligans who picked a fight with him……

Gripping the steering wheel, Hiroki seemed to be in a good mood as he hummed a lousy tune.