Tokyo: Rabbit Officer and Her Evil Partner
Chapter 361 - 267 Slap Contest_2

Chapter 361: Chapter 267 Slap Contest_2

9. Preparation measures: The venue is provided by a third-party arbitrator to ensure no partiality towards any competitor.

10. Competitor status: Ensure both competitors are physically fit, mentally stable, and free from any discomfort when competing.

Both parties are aware of and agree to the above rules without any objections. Once the competitors are designated, the wager can begin.

Four or five men wearing cat-face masks lifted the curtain. They moved the retractable belt, brought in inflatable mattresses, tables and chairs, magnesium powder, and other competition equipment, quickly setting up the venue.

One of the men wearing a red cat-face mask stepped forward, claiming to be the official arbitrator of this wager. He reiterated that both sides could question any violations by the competitors, but it would ultimately be his decision whether a rule was broken.

Everything was ready. Yakou Shichi slightly turned his body and said to the arbitrator, "Please help bring fourth uncle here, he’s quite adept at this..."

"Name," the arbitrator said, without looking away.

"Wise Four Empty Master," Yakou Shichi said.

The arbitrator nodded, indicating that he would relay the invitation to compete, and then asked Moriyama Yasurou which competitor he would field. The latter pretended to think for a moment, then quietly offered a name:

"Watanabe Shun."

The arbitrator made no comment, turning to contact the backstage staff via walkie-talkie.

Yakou Shichi didn’t know who was chosen, cautiously asking a few questions, but Moriyama Yasurou ignored him, pursing his lips and murmuring, "Once you lose, you won’t be so arrogant."

The two sat together outside the retractable belt, looking at the competition venue.

After waiting for about ten minutes, the first to arrive was a lean monk, with prayer beads made from human bones around his neck. His cheeks were a bit chubby, and when he smiled, he resembled Maitreya Buddha. However, beneath the open monk’s robe, there wasn’t much excess flesh; his muscles were prominently defined.

Moriyama Yasurou didn’t know where this monk came from nor what abilities this bald donkey had. She scrutinized him for a while and discovered that his hands were full of calluses, and his forearms were terrifyingly thick, almost the size of her thighs.

"Scared?"

Yakou Shichi cocked his head and said, "This guy is ranked fourth as a designer, you know. He’s very skilled in crafting torture devices and death traps, undergoing years of nearly brutal training. He has a level of endurance to physical pain that’s unimaginable to ordinary people..."

"Haha, my competitor is not bad either," Moriyama Yasurou interrupted.

She leaned back in her chair, turned her face away, unwilling to listen further to Yakou Shichi’s chatter.

Another ten minutes passed, and the second competitor, namely the also kidnapped Watanabe Shun, appeared.

The Aum Truth Sect had assigned him to the labor area, even neglecting to brainwash him, simply having him dig sand, move bricks, and transport steel with other laborers... His eyes opened to work, and if he didn’t work, he’d be shot, and working less meant going hungry.

Before Moriyama Yasurou designated him to compete, Watanabe Shun was on the construction site spreading mortar.

The arbitrator had already explained the circumstances to both competitors on his way over, and both agreed to compete.

Watanabe Shun was especially excited. Upon seeing Moriyama Yasurou, he patted his chest and promised not to let the director down, vowing to beat that bald donkey so hard it would defecate!

To ensure fairness, the arbitrator provided Watanabe Shun with food and water and allowed him to rest for eight hours to recover.

He, having eaten and drunk his fill, waved his hand, indicating he didn’t need the rest at all. He’d been slacking at the construction site, spreading mortar for two hours, letting the cement nearly dry as he stirred—he wouldn’t serve as labor for the cult even if he starved!

Seeing this, Moriyama Yasurou felt particularly uneasy, slightly regretting choosing Watanabe Shun to compete... Choosing Mr. Fu Jian or Kazama Tatsuya would have been decent; both had considerable strength.

The main reason for choosing Watanabe Shun was that he seemed the most resilient to being hit.

A slap competition doesn’t necessarily mean the stronger person wins.

"Be careful, that bald donkey is quite formidable..." Moriyama Yasurou whispered a reminder.

"Don’t worry!" Watanabe Shun licked the plum juice off his lips and, with a thumbs up and an airplane hairstyle, seriously said, "As a man, I’ll definitely bring everyone back safely!"

Moriyama Yasurou knew this guy liked to act cool; previously, to show off in front of juniors, he’d improvised by beating Sugamo residents and nearly got suspended...

Is it really okay to entrust their fates to such a frivolous man?

Moriyama Yasurou hesitated for a moment, wanting to say change competitors, but recalling Fushimi Roku was already shot and Kazama Tatsuya was one-armed, after some consideration, she still could only choose Watanabe Shun.

"This is a one-time chance; don’t disappoint me," she said sincerely.

Watanabe Shun was taken aback, "Eh? Was the director very disappointed in me before..."

Before he could finish, the arbitrator reminded both competitors to enter the arena. Watanabe Shun didn’t have time to chat, casually threw a ’Leave it to me,’ and ran onto the field.

According to the rules, the competitors flipped a coin to decide who would start first—in a contest purely reliant on strength and endurance, going first was crucial, not only setting momentum but also affecting the opponent’s subsequent striking power.

The arbitrator tossed the coin and caught it on the back of his hand.

Watanabe Shun spoke first, betting it would land heads up, and this time, he got lucky and guessed correctly.

"Both competitors, please prepare."

The arbitrator instructed them to stand face to face. Watanabe Shun clapped magnesium powder onto his hands, gearing up for a hit; the monk calmly kept his eyes on his nose, nose on his heart, looking relaxed and ready to be hit.

Seeing this, the arbitrator waved his hand, loudly announcing, "The competition, begins!"