[b][u][center]Hajime[/center][/u][/b]

Hajime wondered if he shouldn't have expected something terrible when Shuu started laughing like a psycho. It was as if he had jinxed himself with that one thought. [i][b]"Son of a bitch!"[/b][/i] He cursed under his breath. He then promptly stormed out of the room. He could care less about Mishi's protests or the fact that Sume-san might be dead. He had the worst of it; he had to put up with Isabella for the whole tournament! Who knew how long this tournament could be? No matter what, this was bound to be the worst tournament he had ever participated in.

Outside, Hajime had prepared his custom order training dummy. It was fashioned from the rarest metals known to man, and was nigh indestructible. It would've been excessive for anyone else, but for Hajime, it was the only thing that could endure his godlike strikes. He was going to be making good use of this dummy, not simply to prepare for the upcoming tournament, but also because he felt he was going to be in a perpetual bad mood from now until they got their vacation. As he rained blow after blow on the mannequin, the ground around him shook with each and every attack. The house was going to start trembling a bit too.