Uchida's final message pushed the already heavy atmosphere to its peak.
Everyone could vividly imagine it—Uchida, pinned under Ishikawa's foot, struggling to get up again and again, only to be cruelly stomped back down.
Even then, he still desperately reached out for his phone, wanting to tell his tormentor:
"I forgive you."
He had already forgiven Ishikawa. He had even naively believed that a bully like him could turn over a new leaf.
Yet, Ishikawa still killed him. And in an unimaginably cruel way.
At this thought, everyone present felt as if they were suffocating, struggling in the same despair that Uchida had faced in his final moments.
"How could anyone do this to such a kind-hearted child?"
"This Ishikawa… he's a devil!"
The sheer brutality of the act ignited public outrage. The crowd erupted into furious cries:
"He should be sentenced to death!"
"Yes! Trash like him must never be allowed back into society!"
"Murderer, just die already!"
"Scum!"
"Why does he even have the nerve to keep living?"
"Breathing the same air as him makes me sick!"
The insults came one after another, filling the air with an invisible blaze of fury.
Ishikawa, who had been stiff and silent from his mental collapse, finally reacted.
Hearing the endless stream of curses, he belatedly realized—his life was completely and utterly destroyed.
Not just because of prison. But because of the social exile and relentless bullying he would now face.
Yes, bullying was universally condemned, but Japanese society had a peculiar tendency—to collectively bully the bullies.
Especially for someone like Ishikawa, whose cruel methods and high-profile crime had sparked nationwide outrage.
Once the media exposed him, the public would be furious. People would gather at his home, throwing stones, vandalizing the walls, sending death threats, even stuffing animal carcasses in his mailbox.
His parents, his wife, his children—if he had any—would be ostracized, despised, even violently harassed for years to come.
As a murderer's family, even if complete strangers randomly beat them up in the name of "justice," they'd have no choice but to endure it—as if they were atoning for his sins.
"No… no, this can't be happening…"
Oddly enough, Ishikawa didn't care much about what would happen to his family.
What terrified him was the realization that, after provoking such public fury, both in prison and in society, he would receive special treatment.
The thought of going from a bully to the bullied—of experiencing the same torment he had once inflicted—was a nightmare he couldn't accept.
"Ishikawa, come with us."
The police stepped forward, handcuffs ready.
The case was clear, he had confessed in public, and it was time to take him in.
But at that moment, Ishikawa completely broke down.
"No! I'm not going in!"
"I don't want to go to prison!"
The officers remained cold and indifferent to his outburst.
The Japanese police force had already been reduced to little more than arrest and cleanup duty. There was no way they would show him any mercy now.
"Stay back!"
"Don't come near me!!"
Ishikawa's face twisted in madness.
It was as if the last fragile thread in his mind had finally snapped.
And then, like a cornered rabid dog, he bolted—desperately trying to escape.
"Oh?"
Watching Ishikawa suddenly flee, Lin Xinyi's eyes lit up.
He just happened to be in Ishikawa's path, the first obstacle in his escape route.
So, without hesitation…
He stepped aside.
Lin Xinyi was more than happy to let Ishikawa run. The more desperate his escape, the better.
After all, there was a police blockade behind him and a sea of onlookers beyond that.
If Ishikawa charged ahead like this, he'd either get tackled by the officers and slapped with additional charges of resisting arrest and assaulting police…
Or, he'd be stopped by the crowd—and beaten so badly he'd wish he were dead.
From Lin Xinyi's perspective, the second option was far more satisfying.
So, just like that—
Lin Xinyi stepped aside, letting Ishikawa rush past him, red-eyed and panicked.
Then, as he turned to follow, he suddenly saw—
"Miyano!"
Lin Xinyi's expression changed.
The very person he was supposed to protect, Miss Shiho Miyano, had somehow ended up standing right behind him.
Since he had stepped aside, she was now the only obstacle in Ishikawa's path.
"Move, Miyano!" Lin Xinyi instinctively shouted.
But Shiho Miyano seemed frozen, unmoving in front of the completely unhinged Ishikawa.
There was no choice.
Lin Xinyi had to abandon his plan of letting Ishikawa dig his own grave and stepped in to stop him.
"Get back here!"
With a single leap, Lin Xinyi closed the distance in an instant.
He was far quicker than Ishikawa.
Without suspense, he grabbed Ishikawa's collar from behind—
With his left hand, he yanked Ishikawa back.
With his right, he struck Ishikawa's lower back, forcing him off balance.
Ishikawa staggered backward, completely losing control of his body.
But Lin Xinyi wasn't done yet.
As Ishikawa toppled, Lin Xinyi reached out, grabbing the back of his neck.
With precise control, he sent a surge of force from his palm—
Ishikawa's head twisted violently to the side, smashing into the nearby wall.
BANG!
Skull met concrete. Blood slowly trickled from the torn skin.
The entire sequence was smooth, efficient, and brutally elegant.
But Lin Xinyi had actually held back.
On one hand, he wanted Ishikawa to keep struggling, to dig himself into an even deeper hole.
On the other, he didn't want to use excessive force and get himself into trouble.
Had he used his full strength just now, Ishikawa would either be dead or spending the rest of his life as a vegetable.
As it was, Ishikawa only suffered minor injuries.
Clutching his bleeding head, he trembled as he stood, his face contorted in fury and madness.
"D-damn it!"
"Don't stop me! I have to get out of here!"
Then—he pulled a switchblade from his pocket.
With a press of the button, the blade snapped out.
Ishikawa's crazed expression made it clear—he was ready to take someone down with him.
"..."
Lin Xinyi didn't feel relieved. If anything, he felt a vague sense of unease.
This little bastard…
Shouting, running, and now pulling a knife?
Was he trying to fake insanity and plead mental illness?
Lin Xinyi wasn't sure.
Ishikawa, meanwhile, was wildly waving his knife, his true state—madness or pretense—unknown.
"Enough!"
Just as the officers tensed, preparing to act, a seemingly delicate figure suddenly shot forward.
It was Ran Mouri.
She had endured long enough.
At this moment, all the pent-up fury in her heart finally erupted.
Without hesitation, she charged straight at Ishikawa—fearlessly closing the distance.
Her movements were like a flash of lightning.
Ishikawa's knife was completely useless.
With a powerful flying kick, Ran's slender leg cut through the air—
Before anyone even registered her skirt fluttering from the force, Ishikawa was already airborne.
Her kick landed dead center on his chest, sending him crashing into the wall like a human cannonball.
HISS—
The crowd gasped in unison.
When they looked again—
Ishikawa was half-embedded in the wall.
The impact had even left the wall itself dented and cracked.
He and the wall… had become one.
"Uh…"
Inspector Megure's face twitched.
Ran, on the other hand, turned calmly and said,
"He had a knife, and he wasn't in his right mind."
"If I hadn't defended myself, I might've been killed."
"..."
Megure's expression remained stiff.
Technically… she wasn't wrong.
"I'm still a minor."
"And if necessary, my mom will help me fight the case."
Ran's voice was calm and composed—she had clearly thought this through.
No matter what, she had decided to beat this man today.
"Cough."
Megure cleared his throat and said seriously,
"Yes… that's right."
"Miss Ran was almost attacked by an armed criminal. Her self-defense was perfectly justified."
"Everyone saw that, correct?"
"We saw it! We all saw it!"
"Attacking such a delicate girl with a knife—how despicable!"
The officers and bystanders nodded in unison.
And so, amidst laughter and cheers—
Ishikawa remained embedded in the wall, his misery a stark contrast to the celebration around him.
***
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