The next morning, Mizuno woke early and took a long, winding path into the mountains, heading toward Master Jin's hideout.
Before facing his "father-in-law," though, he made a detour to the eastern waterfall, determined to find Hayakawa-san and demand answers.
If she hadn't gone easy on him during their endurance test, he would've realized his limits sooner—and maybe avoided nearly dying under El Condor Pasa's hands (and everything else).
But when he arrived, the entire place was empty. The tent was gone, the campfire extinguished, even the training marks on the rocks had faded. Hayakawa-san had vanished without a trace.
Mizuno's broken phone offered no way to contact her, and his pockets—empty as his bank account—meant buying a replacement wasn't an option. If he could text her right now, he'd send at least 99 angry messages demanding an explanation.
"Forget it…" he sighed.
There was nothing he could do for now. He'd question her next time they met. For the moment, it was better to focus on learning more from Master Jin—especially new wrestling techniques that didn't rely on sheer masochism.
Casting one last look at the waterfall, he turned and headed deeper into the woods.
After a long hike, Mizuno finally reached the familiar abandoned factory that served as Master Jin's "Gun Experience Center."
The sight hadn't changed—rusted gates, ivy-choked walls, cracked concrete—but today, something was off.
Master Jin was standing at the entrance, waiting.
And not in his usual half-dressed, cigar-chomping, beer-in-hand state.
He was wearing a spotless Western suit, golden hair slicked neatly with wax, chin clean-shaven, not a single trace of his usual roughness. He even looked… respectable.
Mizuno stopped dead, wary. Clearly, Master Jin was expecting an important guest.
The kind of person who could make this eccentric, trigger-happy American clean himself up could only be a celebrity—or a billionaire.
"…Maybe I should come back later," Mizuno muttered.
But after a moment's hesitation, he decided to risk it. If he just asked a few questions quickly and left before the big shot arrived, it should be fine.
He straightened his collar, approached, and greeted, "Good morning, Master Jin."
"Hmm?" Master Jin blinked, surprised—but the shock lasted only a second before his face split into a grin.
"Good morning, Little Gou! What a pleasant surprise!"
Before Mizuno could react, Master Jin slung a heavy arm around his shoulders.
"I came to ask for some wrestling advice…" Mizuno said awkwardly, subtly wriggling out of the embrace.
"Master Jin, you seem busy today. Are you expecting an important guest? I can leave before they arrive—don't want to interrupt."
"Guest?" Jin paused, then his eyes glinted like a man who'd just had a devious idea.
He tightened his grip on Mizuno's arm, voice full of enthusiasm.
"The guest I've been waiting for… is you, Little Gou!"
"Huh?" Mizuno stared at him, utterly confused.
Master Jin had dressed up like this—just for him? Impossible. He hadn't even told Jin he was coming.
And judging from Jin's initial expression, he clearly hadn't expected him at all.
No doubt about it—Master Jin was lying. The "real" guest hadn't arrived yet, and for some reason, Jin was improvising.
But before Mizuno could figure out why, Master Jin hauled him toward the factory.
"No need to overthink it! Since you're here, you're my most honored guest today!"
Despite the warm words, Jin's iron grip felt less like a greeting and more like being dragged back to prison.
"Uh, Master Jin—"
"Little Gou," Jin interrupted with mock gravity, raising his brows in that familiar way. "Haven't you forgotten how you're supposed to address me?"
Mizuno's stomach dropped.
He looked at the hand crushing his arm, knew resistance was useless, and muttered in defeat, "…Fa… father-in-law."
"Good, good, good~!" Jin nodded approvingly. "Always remember that. Understand?"
"Yes, Father-in-law…"
"Ha-ha-ha! That's my smart boy!" Jin beamed, finally loosening his hold and giving Mizuno a hearty pat on the back that nearly dislocated a shoulder.
Inside, Jin seated him firmly at the dining table, then sauntered to the refrigerator, pulling out a single bottle.
"Little Gou, would you like milk, milk, or perhaps… milk?"
Mizuno stared. "…Milk."
"Oh, what a coincidence!" Jin laughed, pouring a glass. "My daughter loves milk too! Says it helps her grow taller. You two really are a perfect match!"
Mizuno: "…"
You're enjoying this, aren't you?
"So, Little Gou," Jin asked, settling into a chair opposite him, "how've you been lately?"
"…Pretty good," Mizuno answered cautiously.
"No affairs behind my daughter's back, right?"
"???"
Where did that even come from?!
Mizuno opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, a notification chimed from Jin's phone.
"Oh?" Jin glanced down, his grin widening. "The other guest I've been waiting for is about to arrive."
Mizuno immediately stood up. "In that case, I'll get going—"
"You can't leave."
Jin's tone was casual, but the pressure in his voice froze Mizuno mid-step.
"B-but, wouldn't I just be in the way—"
"Wait." Jin reached under the table for something. His expression didn't change, but Mizuno's instincts screamed danger.
"…Master Jin," Mizuno asked carefully, "your guest wouldn't happen to be… your daughter, would she?"
"Yes," Jin replied pleasantly.
"Wha—!"
Mizuno nearly fainted.
He'd suspected it earlier, but hearing it confirmed made his blood run cold.
He hadn't meant to actually marry her! He'd just wanted to learn wrestling!
If she showed up now and recognized him later at Tracen Academy, he was doomed!
He had to run—now!
"Little Gou, stay a while longer," Jin said softly, smiling as he finally pulled something out from under the table.
"No, really—I just remembered I left the stove on—huh?!"
Mizuno froze.
Because in Jin's hand… was an antique revolver.
A gleaming Smith & Wesson M1917.
"If you leave now," Jin said with an almost cheerful tone, "my old revolver might just… accidentally discharge."
"Wha—?!" Mizuno's jaw dropped.
Was this man serious?! Pulling a gun to make him meet his daughter?!
"Don't be nervous, my good son-in-law," Jin said kindly, cocking the hammer with a crisp click. "It's just family."
Mizuno trembled, voice cracking. "S-sir, please, can we talk about this peacefully—"
"Sit," Jin ordered.
Mizuno sat. Instantly.
Half a minute later, the sound of footsteps echoed from outside.
"Ah, my daughter's here~!" Jin's stern expression melted into pure fatherly pride.
"Papa~!" a familiar, bright voice called from the doorway.
"Little Condor~! Welcome!"
Mizuno's heart stopped.
He turned slowly toward the voice.
Standing at the door was a masked Uma Musume with golden-brown skin and twin ponytails—her eyes wide as she recognized him too.
"El Condor Pasa?!" Mizuno choked.
El Condor Pasa froze, equally stunned.
"It's… you?!"