A Rider Doesn't Need a Youth Romantic Comedy [32]

These last few days, Katsuyama Denshin had felt something terribly wrong.

His heart was always beating too fast, and at night, he often woke up startled.

There was a constant, inexplicable dread in his chest, as if he'd seen something terrifying.

Yet he had no recollection of it whatsoever.

“Heh, it couldn’t be that bunch coming to get their revenge, could it?”

Laughing bitterly to himself, Katsuyama quickly dismissed the thought from his mind.

Perhaps it was because he'd already selected his next target.

Katsuyama Denshin had a little secret.

A small, shameful hobby he couldn’t exactly share openly: he loved fighting.

He relished the thrill of beating someone to a pulp, just as much as he savored the pain of getting beaten himself.

It gave him a unique sort of stimulation.

He'd discovered this trait very young, but hid it carefully.

After growing up, he built a massive underground room beneath his villa, converted into an arena.

Through various little schemes, he’d lure people into his underground arena, and there they'd fight to the death.

Only one person would walk out alive each time.

He’d done this countless times. And every single time, the one left standing was him.

Among his victims had even been champions in kickboxing.

But that didn’t mean he was someone brave enough to challenge the strong.

He was simply a psychopathic murderer.

Those he'd brutally killed in his underground arena weren’t limited to skilled fighters—ordinary housewives, university students, all kinds of people had fallen victim to him.

In his own words, after enjoying a heavy meal, one must occasionally have a little dessert.

To him, torturing someone utterly defenseless posed no psychological burden whatsoever.

At most, beating a completely passive sandbag just felt a bit boring.

Tossing his clothes casually into the washing machine, Katsuyama prepared to take a shower.

But just as he turned away, something caught the corner of his eye.

What was that?

It looked like a tall, slender human figure.

But its grey skin and twisted face clearly indicated otherwise.

“You!”

Spinning around sharply, Katsuyama dropped into a defensive stance, preparing to face the monster.

Yet when his gaze focused clearly, there was nothing on the balcony.

A gentle breeze blew in from the open window, lightly rustling the clothes hanging there.

“What…was I just about to do?”

Patting his face confusedly, Katsuyama felt as though he'd forgotten something crucial.

His heart was pounding violently, and his back was already drenched in cold sweat.

And this posture he held—was he defending against someone?

No—something not human!

The thought suddenly flashed clearly through his mind.

Just now, he definitely hadn't seen a human. It was something else entirely.

His eyelid twitched involuntarily. Katsuyama began to understand something.

Why his recent state had been so strange. Why he kept waking up terrified in the night.

Clearly, something had set its sights on him.

In the dead of night, it would silently stand beside his bed, wordlessly staring down at him.

Perhaps it was the faint shuffle of footsteps, perhaps its quiet breathing.

Even asleep, Katsuyama’s subconscious had sharply detected these slight movements, jolting him awake.

And that terrifying face—horrifying enough to send a child into tears—would come clearly into view.

Every time Katsuyama attempted to resist, the entity would vanish.

Along with it, Katsuyama’s memories disappeared too.

“This is bad...”

Grinding his teeth, Katsuyama’s face contorted rapidly.

After a few seconds, he decided he had to check the security footage he’d set up.

Yet, when he left the balcony, his memory blanked out once again.

“What...was I about to do?”

Katsuyama slowed to a halt, confused.

What exactly had happened?

Why was he running?

Where was he going?

Right, he remembered again—he needed to check the surveillance.

But why?

Endless doubts twisted in Katsuyama’s mind.

Unseen by him, at the far end of the hallway stood a tall, thin, grey humanoid creature, silently watching his retreating figure with cold eyes.

...

“MTF Alpha-9 ‘Nine-Tailed Fox,’ Team One, in position.”

“MTF Alpha-9 ‘Nine-Tailed Fox,’ Team Two, in position.”

“City Slicker Team One, in position.”

“Ghostbusters Team One, in position.”

Outside Katsuyama’s residence, the Institute’s squads were stealthily surrounding the place.

With considerable effort, the Skull Mirror had managed to recall fragments of scattered information.

Paired with Joseph’s Hermit Purple, they’d successfully pinpointed the target’s location.

If luck favored them, the Institute would soon gain another expendable D-Class—no, a valued member.

“Stand by. We’re currently assessing the situation inside the building.”

Through their earpieces came the synthetic voice.

No one spoke. No unnecessary movements were made.

At this moment, they resembled cold sculptures more than living people.

...

Inside, Katsuyama hid in his bedroom, reviewing the surveillance footage.

“Damn it!”

Slamming his fist onto the desk, Katsuyama looked grim.

Because of his special hobby, the security system in his home had been installed meticulously.

It avoided the entrance to his underground arena while still covering most of his rooms.

Yet he’d found nothing.

At least, as far as he could remember, he’d checked four times now—nothing at all.

Normally, one would’ve given up at this point.

But Katsuyama refused. He firmly believed something had definitely happened to him.

Clutching his forehead, Katsuyama leaned back heavily.

His eyes inadvertently drifted to a message on the computer screen.

Playback count: 14

Staring blankly at these words, Katsuyama felt a chill creeping down his spine.

What was going on?

Fourteen times?

When had that happened?

SLAM!

Shooting forward, he slammed the table again, staring at the screen intently.

“And this is…?”

A pen lay quietly by his hand.

Beneath it, white paper was scribbled full of markings.

Ink from an overturned bottle had spilled everywhere, but Katsuyama paid no attention to it.

Because a single line of text caught his eye:

[Do NOT look away from the screen!!]

It looked like his own handwriting?

Playback count: 27

This time, Katsuyama saw it clearly.

There was a monster inside his house.

It watched him when he slept, when he ate, when he showered.

Even two days ago, while he was fighting in his underground arena—it had been there.

It had always been there, right beside Katsuyama.

In other words, right now…

Stiffly turning his head, Katsuyama silently prayed in his heart:

Please don’t be there. Please don’t appear.

But his hope was dashed.

That hideous face met Katsuyama’s in an intimate, horrifying embrace.

This time, it didn't vanish.

Because there was no need anymore.

“AAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!”

A scream tore from Katsuyama’s throat, clearly audible even to the Institute’s members outside, waiting quietly in the darkness.

---

T/N: forget me not or was it uhhhh i frgot

This is a fan translation of 骑士不需要青春恋爱物语 by 青琮 All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!