[Yamamoto opened his eyes, his head spinning, his vision was immediately occupied by a joyful face: "That's wonderful, Player Yamamoto, you are simply the rising star of the Japanese baseball world. As long as you study under me, I will certainly train you into a world-class baseball player."]
Where was he, what was he supposed to be doing?
Memories poured into his mind like flowing water.
By the way, his name is Yamamoto Takeshi. He is ten years old this year, he has just been scouted by a retired national baseball player who intends to train him to become a top-tier baseball player.
He loved baseball very much, loved it more than anything in the world; baseball was more important than life itself.
By the way, he is a person favored by the God of Baseball.
He will dedicate his entire life to baseball.
Yamamoto Takeshi ran home and said to his father, who was slicing raw fish, "Dad, I'm going to play baseball for the rest of my life."
Upon entering middle school, Yamamoto Takeshi had many friends, but he devoted himself entirely to baseball, his relationships with everyone else were merely superficial.
Gradually, Yamamoto Takeshi made a name for himself in the baseball world and gained many fans.
As he grew older, he won more and more matches, gradually earning the title of "the man favored by the God of Baseball."
Before every game, Yamamoto would kiss his baseball bat; it was proof that he was being watched and loved.
Sometimes his father would sigh at him and urge him to go play with friends, but Yamamoto Takeshi would always say with a laugh that baseball was his friend.
Soon, he reached adulthood, he grew up, he became an unparalleled baseball genius with countless fans in every country.
He became increasingly convinced that he was walking on the right path.
Until an accident occurred; right before a crucial match, his arm was accidentally broken.
The God of Baseball no longer loves him.
In the dim room, the phone buzzed incessantly; Yamamoto Takeshi knew it was his father calling him, his agent calling him.
He didn't want to answer a single one of them and simply turned off his phone.
In the dim environment, his gaze fixed deeply on the useless arm; it was this very arm that could deliver the most magnificent attacks, yet now it could even struggle to move a single inch.
What pleasure is there in being alive for a useless wretch like this.
As soon as this thought surfaced in his mind, his brain felt as if it were being tightly ensnared by silk threads, trapping Yamamoto Takeshi.
Someone whispered and coaxed him, "Go on, go on, you've become useless, there's no meaning in living, just die, it'll be fine once you're dead, you can be reborn after you die."
By the time he came to his senses, he had already arrived at the rooftop. The building was twenty-seven stories high; opposite him were the lights of ten thousand homes, below him was a bustling commercial street.
At this moment, Yamamoto realized that he didn't seem to have a single friend worth talking to. With his mind racing with countless thoughts, he couldn't even find someone to talk to.
A failed life.
That voice continued to whisper incessantly in his ear, saying that a life like this was nothing more than that, that he should just jump down—jump down and everything would be liberated.
That's right, Yamamoto had one foot on the railing, as soon as he stepped up with the other, he could experience the thrill of flight.
That voice began again, asking what he was still waiting for, telling him not to hesitate any longer, to just jump.
You have been abandoned by everyone; you are an unwelcome person, someone no one expects anything from. What are you still clinging to?
Skinny grit his teeth. If he hadn't been forced to wait for the dream's owner to fall into despair himself, he would have given him a push from behind. Hurry up and jump! Only if you jump in the dream will you jump off the Yokohama Bridge in reality!
Oh, so that's how it is. What a mysterious ability.
A voice rang out in his ear, the boy's face showed no sign of gloom; his eyes were bright as he stood by the edge of the skyscraper.
So this is what it looks like from up here, it's so dangerous. Looking at it this way, Tsuna was truly incredible back then.
Chapter 13: Day Thirteen of the Livestream
Yamamoto Takeshi has been silent ever since watching the latest video.
Having always had things go smoothly since he was a child, he could not imagine such a future.
Without baseball, if even the thing he loved most has abandoned him, does he truly still have any value?
Where else could he go to find a new sense of purpose?
Why was he able to recover after experiencing such a terrible outcome? How did he become normal again, what was it that pulled him from the bottom of the muddy pool and brought him back to the normal world?
Yamamoto Takeshi could empathize with that feeling.
Yamamoto stood behind, constantly glancing at his son's position, feeling extremely anxious as well.
Unexpectedly, the screen directly displayed his worries.
That kind of future was much like the worst-case scenario in his heart; he had always been worried that such a future would unfold upon Yamamoto.
He watched Yamamoto on the screen, his expression shifting from distress to joy, then to a deep frown; in short, his expressions were incredibly varied.
By the end, he truly felt relaxed.
It's so wonderful; the future Takeshi found something beyond baseball, while also never giving up his love for the sport. He broke free from the fences of his obsession and gained so much more.
That's wonderful; thank you, that boy named Sawada Tsunayoshi.
[Skinny saw Yamamoto and felt as if he had seen a ghost: "Why are you out! No, it's impossible for you to be out here."]
Aside from my ability, No Longer Human, being invincible, it's impossible, impossible! No one can escape the deepest *** in their heart. You should have jumped down just now! Don't you love baseball most of all? Even after joining the Port Mafia, you still can't let go of baseball!
Oh, your intelligence gathering is quite impressive; you even managed to find out about this.
Skinny could hardly believe that his ability had failed so easily; his intelligence agents over in Europe had just sent the information through at the risk of their lives, which was why he had constructed this future.
Skinny, who had been incredibly confident in his ability, broke down. He couldn't even bother to be afraid, thinking only of blaming Yamamoto Takeshi: "When you were younger, weren't you so obsessed with baseball that you were willing to die for it, even threatening to jump off a building? After joining the Port Mafia, didn't you want to enter a tournament instead of arguing with the boss? Why didn't you just jump? Why?!"
That's right, why? Even the Yamamoto of the real world was very puzzled; he was desperate to know the answer.
He felt that it would be an interesting answer, but one that would overturn his very way of thinking.
Well, how should I put this.. you've asked a good question.
Yamamoto was dazed for a moment after hearing his questioning, he subconsciously let out a gentle smile. This smile was like a clear spring entering water; compared to that previous fake smile, it was incredibly real.
He didn't deal with Skinny; instead, he sat astride the top of the high-rise building, looking down at the bottomless abyss below.
The 27th floor, huh? That's a good number.
Skinny held his tongue and said nothing.
Yamamoto Takeshi didn't need him to say anything, looking down below with great interest. "Looking down from here, what can you see, how does it make you feel?"
Skinny held it in. What else could it be? Fear, of course. Even if he were an ability user, jumping from such an absolute height would leave him as nothing more than a heap of mush.
I just don't get it; I can't understand the Vongola's way of thinking. Shouldn't he be killing him at a time like this? Why is he standing here chatting?
However, Skinny gave a secretive smile, which fit his plan perfectly.
He will pay the price for his pride.
】
Squalo was furious outside, his eyes blazing with rage as he glared at Yamamoto.
Between swordsmen, a single move or stance is enough to get a general idea of an opponent's strength. Yamamoto only had to sever Skinny's arm; with just that one move, he saw several different shadows, including his own.
In the future, he actually gave him training!
So Squalo took an interest in Yamamoto, now, seeing the enemy right before his eyes without seizing the momentum to strike, he instead started chatting, wishing he could rush over and strike them with his swords.
Actually, I think the scenery here is quite nice. This is the second time I've been able to look down from up here so leisurely.
I don't care how leisurely you feel; just prepare to die in a moment.
Yamamoto Takeshi seemed unable to feel the venomous gaze behind him, telling stories with great enthusiasm: "You probably haven't found out, but actually, that dream of yours just now was a kind of memory to me; there was none of that feeling of despair that makes one want to throw away one's life."
Skinny stood up, his shadow swaying, he flashed a wild grin.
Are you finished talking?
Now that you're done talking, you can die, ha!
From the moment he uttered his first note, a dark shadow surged from his shadow, rushing toward Yamamoto Takeshi with unstoppable momentum.
Yamamoto Takeshi was already at the edge of the skyscraper; he only needed one step to fall.
A short man rushed out, thrusting his knife directly toward Yamamoto's abdomen.
Hahaha, my blade is coated with a lethal poison that will rip your guts out! You're dead!
Messy hair covered Yamamoto's eyes, his gaze deep and unpredictable. His aura shifted as he flicked his silver sword with a twist of his wrist; at a speed normal people couldn't even perceive, the two people on the ground were pinned against the high wall, overlapping one another, their screams ringing out incessantly.
I hate it when people interrupt me while I'm speaking.
The short man glared at him with venomous eyes: "You discovered me long ago, just waiting for me to make my move so you could wipe us all out at once."
What a sinister scheme.
Yamamoto Takeshi sheathed his sword. "It can't be helped; Gokudera Hayato was rushing me, besides, I have a schedule later, so I don't want to waste too much time on you people."
The short man glared at him hatefully. "I don't understand. Why do you want to cooperate with the Port Mafia? Isn't drug trafficking good enough? You can make a lot of money. You only need to turn a blind eye, the profits we can give you will definitely far exceed those of the Port Mafia.
To be honest, I don't know much about interests or trade and such." Yamamoto stepped toward the two men, his foot stepping into a pool of blood. "But this is Tsuna's wish, I will fulfill his desire unconditionally.
Skinny struggled to lift his head, "Tsuna, Tsuna, who on earth is this Tsuna that you'd go to such lengths for him!"
Skinny was also severely injured and was feeling lightheaded.
Sawada Tsunayoshi had even forgotten the name of the Vongola Tenth Generation.
Yamamoto Takeshi gave a brilliant smile: "Tsuna is my friend; we are best friends."
Ah, aren't you and your boss friends? Then you guys are so pitiful, just having a simple superior-subordinate relationship. When you're exhausted from work, will your boss care about whether you've slept well or eaten well? Will he let you rest? Will he go on trips and watch fireworks with you? Will he give you gifts he made himself? Will he let you pursue your own hobbies?
Skinny was stunned. A whole torrent of words came flying at him, the light gradually died in his eyes.
What is the other person even talking about? The boss is God; being treated as a human being would be good enough, yet they want to be friends? They've gone mad.
Besides, what's wrong with a superior-subordinate relationship? Our relationship is perfectly fine; it's yours that's weird!
Yamamoto smiled even more radiantly, his voice carrying a strange tone: "Oh, so you two aren't friends? That's fine, being a simple subordinate is also quite good. At least this way, the boss won't worry about whether you're injured or if you rested well on the plane. Haha, Tsuna is always so restless; he sends me messages every single day. It's quite a sweet little trouble, really."
Who is going to beat this pretentious person to death?
Skinny gritted his teeth: "So what!"