Weren’t You Only Using Me As A Stand-in? [78]

“With me watching your back, who’d dare lay a finger on you?”

It sounded cocky, sure. Bold even. But in most cases, Ryūtō Momo did have the strength to back up her words.

Keyword: most.

That strength didn’t quite apply when the person in question was Kitahara Takeru.

“If—and I’m just saying if, totally hypothetical…”

Takeru chose his words with extreme care, mentally editing every sentence before he spoke to avoid setting off Ryūtō Momo.

“If, say, the person you wanted to protect just happened to piss off both the Shijō family and the Kashiwagi family… and might, just might, eventually offend the Shinomiya family too… could you still protect them, Ryūtō-san?”

He didn’t even mention the Sawamura, Hiratsuka, or Nakano families.

Compared to the ones he did name, those weren’t even worth bringing up.

“……”

Momo’s head turned toward him like a rusted bolt, stiff and creaking, eyes fixed on his face like she wanted to drill a hole through it.

“That person you’re talking about… isn’t you, right?”

“Ahahaha!”

Takeru let out the kind of dry laugh you’d hear from a late-night comedy show’s laugh track.

Fake as hell.

Under Momo’s unblinking stare, he shifted his gaze away guiltily. “I said it was hypothetical.”

Sometimes, avoiding the question is the clearest answer.

Deep breath. Relax. It’s normal to feel dizzy.

Ryūtō Momo felt like her brain had just lost all oxygen. She sucked in air like she was trying to chill herself out.

“What did you just ask me again?”

“I said, if Miss Ryūtō—”

“Not that part. The sentence before.”

Before? Takeru paused, thought for a second, then said, “I asked… if I went to Shuchi'in and got bullied, what should I do?”

Ryūtō Momo smiled encouragingly. “Do your best!”

Takeru: “???”

I said what if I got bullied, and you’re telling me to ‘do my best’?

Do my best at what? Getting bullied?

“Ryūtō-san, that’s not what you said earlier…”

Momo shot him a side-eye. “I also didn’t think you’d go around offending half the ruling class.”

At this rate, there wasn’t a person in all of Japan who could protect Kitahara Takeru.

Unless she was President of the United States.

“I could… arrange for you to get a proper burial.”

If what he said was even remotely true, that might be the only thing she could actually do for him—make sure he didn’t die too miserably.

“So what exactly did you do to piss them off?”

Momo genuinely couldn’t imagine what kind of unholy crime he’d committed to make both the Shijō and Shinomiya families set aside their own grudges to team up on him.

“Me? Upset them? No way. I was just asking.”

For now, Takeru added silently.

At the moment, he hadn’t actually crossed the line.

Everything was in a sort of... precarious balance.

But something about it all just felt off.

That’s why he’d asked Momo. If things really went south, he already had an escape plan—flee the country, make a name for himself abroad, gather an elite squad of mercenaries, and establish his own Dragon Palace syndicate.

Then, three years later... The Dragon King Returns—

Okay, yeah. Even he couldn’t finish that bit without cringing.

He’d dropped that edge-lord novel after just a few chapters anyway.

“You better be joking.”

Momo warned, straightening up before turning to leave.

“Where are you going?” Takeru instinctively tried to follow.

He wasn’t too eager to run into another rich cougar like Sanka Aria without some kind of backup.

He felt a lot safer sticking with Momo in this kind of environment.

Momo paused mid-step—then kept walking, her long legs in denim shorts striding away with total indifference.

“If you want to follow me into the ladies’ room, I don’t mind.”

Her voice was as flat as ever—completely unfazed.

Takeru came to an immediate halt.

He had zero interest in the women’s restroom, thank you very much.

“I’ll head back first. Come find me later—I’m over near the bar,” he said.

“Got it.”

Momo waved lazily and slipped inside.

Takeru turned around and made his way back.

On the way, he had to fend off advances from a so-called Demon of the Mountains, a married woman, and a college girl before finally making it back to his seat.

Where previously it had just been him and Haruno, there was now another woman at the table.

Curled waves. Heavy makeup. Skimpy outfit—practically everything on display. Maybe she was just really into “fashion freedom.”

Even with all that, her looks didn’t come close to Yukinoshita Haruno.

If the system had a charm scale, Takeru estimated she’d score around a 6.

Still decent by most standards.

Just… not next to Haruno.

Chances were, this was the club’s owner.

“Took you long enough.”

As soon as Takeru sat down, Haruno broke off her conversation and asked, “Where’d you go for so long? Don’t tell me someone hit on you?”

“Yeah. Barely made it back alive.”

“Huh?”

Haruno’s lips formed a perfect little “O.”

Then she straightened slightly, set her cocktail on the table, and half-joked, “You didn’t tell her you’re Shizuka’s man?”

The woman with the curled hair looked shocked.

No way!

Hiratsuka Shizuka actually landed someone?

She’d originally thought Takeru was a new host the shop recruited—some beautiful little puppy-faced hire.

But he was Shizuka’s boyfriend?

“Didn’t get the chance—someone saved me.”

Takeru knew that Haruno’s comment was for the woman next to her, not him.

He grabbed a slice of watermelon from the fruit platter and polished it off in two bites.

Yup. Summer isn’t complete without watermelon.

“You even ran into someone you knew?” Haruno asked casually.

She assumed it was a classmate from Takeru’s college.

It wasn’t that uncommon for university students to work part-time in host clubs.

Most didn’t last long, though.

“You could say that.”

Is someone you’ve only met once considered an acquaintance?

“Oyamada, someone I brought was harassed at your club. What’re you going to do about that?” Haruno turned toward the curled-hair woman like a manager filing a complaint.

“Someone bullied you? Just say the word, and I’ll have her come apologize,” said Oyamada Kazumi confidently.

That same kind of confidence Ryūtō Momo had shown just minutes earlier.

And just like her, she’d probably get slapped with reality soon.

Takeru shook his head. “Forget it. It’s over now.”

For someone to own a club in the heart of Kabukichō, they had to have serious connections. Even so, he doubted Oyamada could actually force Sanka Aria to apologize.

That woman might be unpleasant, but she wasn’t stupid.

Even drunk, she’d sobered up instantly at the sight of Ryūtō Momo.

Clearly, she knew exactly which lines couldn’t be crossed.

If she had the nerve to threaten “I’ll make sure you never work in Tokyo again!” before seeing Momo, then the Sanka family clearly wasn’t intimidated by Oyamada.

Takeru didn’t want to escalate things.

Ryūtō had already taken care of it for him.

“Then let’s do this instead,” Haruno said with a sly smile. “Kazumi, how about you comp everything we ordered tonight?”

“Not a problem.”

Oyamada Kazumi stood, pulled out a business card, and offered it to Takeru with both hands.

“I’m Oyamada Kazumi. Here’s my card—please take it.”

In modern Japan, despite having endless ways to stay in contact, whether or not someone had a business card still signified their professionalism and status.

Exchanging cards was a vital part of business etiquette.

It let people exchange all essential info without overstepping into personal space. Jumping straight to LINE? Way too informal.

Business cards were still king.

This gesture from Oyamada was her showing the highest level of courtesy.

“I’m Watanabe Takeru. Still a student—don’t have a card yet.” Takeru accepted the card with both hands, explaining politely so she wouldn’t think he was brushing her off.

Even if he didn’t think their paths would cross again—who knew?

Better to be respectful.

You never know when someone might come in handy.

“Watanabe Takeru?”

Before Oyamada could say more, a familiar voice rang out behind them, laced with amusement.

It was Ryūtō Momo.

Takeru froze.

Of all times… she shows up now?

She knew his real name.

“I don’t remember you going by—mmph!”

Before Momo could finish, Takeru lunged forward and slapped a hand over her mouth.

“Nee-san, please don’t blow my cover! I’ll even kneel and beg in private if you want!” His face was full of desperation.

Momo’s ears flushed red as she glanced at the hand over her mouth.

She slapped it away and turned away with a dramatic “hmph!”

She didn’t say anything—but Takeru could tell.

She wasn’t going to out him.

When he turned back, he saw Oyamada and Haruno both staring at him wide-eyed.

Is this guy suicidal?

Did he not know who he was dealing with?

Ryūtō Momo—the beloved daughter of a top yakuza boss.

Last guy who pissed her off?

Concrete shoes. Tokyo Bay.

But wait— Haruno’s eyes narrowed in thought.

Isn’t this Shizuka’s boyfriend? Why does he seem close with Momo too?

Sensing an opportunity, Haruno rose and gave her best practiced smile.

“Nice to meet you, Ryūtō-san. I’m Yukinoshita Haruno, eldest daughter of the Chiba Prefectural Councilor.”

It was a perfect political smile, flawless in every curve.

But Momo wasn’t buying it.

She’d seen too many of those.

It made her sick.

Especially since she hated fake-smiling politicians.

“Come with me.”

Momo didn’t care about anyone’s family.

She only made friends with people she liked.

She brought Takeru around because she thought he was alright.

Even someone like Shinomiya Kaguya couldn’t sway her otherwise.

She didn’t like Haruno—and she wasn’t about to play nice.

“I can’t just ditch them—they’re friends,” Takeru said, tugging at her sleeve.

“You wanna stay?”

She gave him a look—half-smile, half-threat.

Takeru got the message.

If he didn’t go now, she was going to ice him out.

“I’m coming, I’m coming. You're the boss.”

“I say jump, you say how high, huh?”

“Exactly!”

Takeru grinned. “Your loyal henchman at your service.”

“Great. Then go take out the Commissioner’s son for me.”

“…Me?”

Takeru pointed at his own nose.

She wants me to assassinate a government official’s kid?

What am I, a budget supervillain?

“If I’m your henchman, can’t I just beat him in a kendo match instead? Let me give him a real thrashing next time and settle it that way.”

“Think you can win?”

Momo looked skeptical.

That guy had become kendo captain in his first year.

It wasn’t nepotism—it was raw skill.

Even she had to admit he was good.

“You’re underestimating the Wind Swordmaster, huh?”

Takeru wasn’t overly confident in his system—but the skills it gave were legit.

“If you beat him, I’ll grant you a wish.” Momo offered casually—not really believing he could do it.

Takeru was about to answer—but his eyes lit up with a sudden idea.

“Can I redeem that wish early?”

“…What are you planning?”

Momo pulled her collar up and took a step back, clearly wary.

Don’t tell me he’s into me?

She liked Takeru well enough—but not as a boyfriend.

She preferred the muscular, macho type. Blame her upbringing.

“I just want to be your host for a night. Think you could drop 5.78 million yen on me?”

Takeru knew she was misunderstanding, but he didn’t care.

He’d found a loophole.

The system’s condition was to earn 5.78 million in a month as a host.

Well, then. Why not be a host for one night, and get a top-tier sugar mama to drop the whole amount in one go?

A flawless plan.

God, I’m brilliant.

“…Do I look like a pathetic simp to you?”

Momo was so stunned, she actually laughed.

I treat you like a friend, and you think I’m here to bankroll your grind?!

Have I been too nice to this idiot?

---

T/N: LMAOO

This is a fan translation of 不是说只拿我当替身的吗？by 雪碧加冰. All rights to the original work belong to the creator. Please support them by exploring their original work or sharing it with others if you can. Thank you for reading and supporting my efforts to bring this story to a wider audience!