"Hey, wait a second!"
Just as Sora Yukihira froze in panic, wondering if his small arms and legs could even stand a chance against this group of burly thugs, Jessica—who had just finished her meal, wiped her mouth, and was leaning back with a full belly—suddenly spoke up from the side.
"If you take him away, what happens to my future meals?"
"Woman, you really want to stick your nose into this?" Flint Marko frowned. He'd heard of Jessica before—a woman who ran a private detective agency in the chaos of Hell's Kitchen. He didn't know the details, but anyone who could survive in this part of town was not to be underestimated.
"Hey, kid, I'll help you deal with this mess. Just think of it as me paying for dinner."
Jessica didn't even glance at Flint, instead raising an eyebrow at Sora and grinning lazily.
"This way, we both win. Next time you cook something good, I'll come back for more."
"Lady, are you trying to go against Hammerhead's orders?" Flint tried throwing out the name of his boss, hoping it would intimidate her enough to back off.
"Get lost."
Jessica grabbed the heavy solid-wood table in front of her with one hand and hurled it straight at Flint and his men with a loud crash.
"My god…" Sora stood there, completely stunned. That table was the kind that took several people to lift, yet Jessica had tossed it like it was nothing.
Could this woman be some kind of legendary person?
In the small diner, the sound of crashing furniture echoed like someone was demolishing the place.
Later that night, under a dim streetlight, Ethan Yukihira stood across from Mr. Thompson, the supplier, with a deep frown.
"Is there really no other way?" he asked. "This dock was fine just a short while ago."
"There's nothing I can do," Thompson replied helplessly, shaking his head.
"This area belongs to the Maggia now. If you want to survive here, you follow their rules."
"I understand…" Ethan sighed after a long silence, watching the supplier's figure fade into the distance. His chest felt heavy as he turned and walked back toward the diner.
He hadn't expected Maggia to suddenly reclaim control of the dock. That dock had been essential for moving cargo and boats, with merchants only needing to pay a small protection fee to keep things running smoothly. Maggia's own contraband business operated from there too.
But now… from what Thompson had said, Maggia seemed to be expanding their operations and had forcefully shut down all independent transport there. Apparently, they were preparing to move large-scale container shipments. Whatever they were planning, it sounded like trouble.
And trouble for them meant supply shortages. Running a restaurant was impossible without reliable suppliers. Thompson had been the one reliable contact Ethan had painstakingly found after weeks of searching, only for it to fall apart in a single month.
It looked like he'd have to start over, searching for someone new.
Thinking about it made his mood sink further. In the month they'd been stuck in this world, Ethan had learned one harsh truth: this wasn't their old world. Here, status and survival weren't decided by cooking skill—it was all about brute force.
Especially in Hell's Kitchen. If you didn't have power, you either followed someone else's rules or you ended up dead. Gunfire and street fights were a daily occurrence. People died in the open and nobody blinked.
They couldn't even think about relocating the diner without enough funds. And the main mission—the mysterious task that could let them return to their original world—felt as far away as ever.
The thought weighed heavily on him, making every step back toward the diner feel like lead.
Then he heard it—a faint cry from a dark alley nearby.
Ethan froze. His expression tightened. In this neighborhood, you learned quickly: never meddle in other people's business. It was a rule to stay alive.
But…
He clenched his jaw, took a deep breath, and stepped into the shadows of the alley.
"Is anyone there? I'm starving…"
"Where even is this place? Why did I end up here?!"
Wrapped in a dirty, worn-out bath towel, Tsuna Sawada sat huddled in despair.
Not long ago, everything in his life had been looking up—the curse of the Arcobaleno had been lifted, Reborn had returned after a week's absence with the Ninth's approval, and Tsuna had even promised to rebuild the Vongola family as the first of a new generation.
That evening, his mother had cooked a huge dinner to celebrate Reborn's return. Tsuna had just gotten out of a hot bath, wrapped in a towel, ready to join everyone at the table… when, without warning, he was thrown into this unfamiliar world.
This district was a nightmare.
Not long after his arrival, he witnessed a violent mugging. The attackers laughed like maniacs as they ran off, leaving their victim bleeding on the ground. Worse, nobody cared. People walked past with their heads down, desperate to avoid becoming the next target.
The only reason the thugs ignored Tsuna was probably because he was half-naked, wrapped in nothing but a towel, clearly not worth robbing. They brushed past him without a second glance.
Shivering, weak, and terrified, Tsuna staggered toward a faint orange light in the distance, using the wall to keep himself upright.
That's when Ethan Yukihira stepped into the alley and saw him.
Huh? Ethan immediately noticed the glowing white name tag above Tsuna's head—the same faction marker that he and his son had.
So he'd been right all along: there were other Players trapped in this world.
Looking at the lost, trembling boy—so close in age to Sora—Ethan's expression softened.
"You're a Player too, aren't you? About the same age as my kid. If you want… come with me."
Tsuna looked up at the sudden voice. A middle-aged man stood there, carrying the same glowing name as his own. To Tsuna, it was like a beam of light in the dark. He nodded quickly, eyes wide with relief.
And just like that, Ethan Yukihira led the boy out of the filthy, stinking alleyway, a fragile alliance forming in this brutal, alien world.