Josuke X Okuyasu Novels & Stories

With only smell, he can tell what someone put in any drink or any food. Ishida Kazumi – The wife of Masayuki who worked as a model in her youth. Ishida Yoshiro – The extremely capable son of Masayuki and Kazumi. He is the front-runner to become the new supreme Boss.

Jodan said grinning crazily when he say 'business' he meant 'beating Tyson. His lackeys didn't mean to waste time they pounced on him once but this time they were in for surprise because today Tyson fought back!!he didn't cower the punch he had received from one of the lackeys he sent it right back but his was more powerful that it sent that boy flying then falling on the floor he didn't wait for them to come back from their surprised expression he kicked the second lackey then punched the last lackey in just fifteen seconds he had already won the fight and his explosive power was by no means weak it was strong the three lackeys hit were lying there groaning in pain with no signs of getting

Thus, he turned to the blonde with glasses now and gave her a hard look. “You work for Mr. Tachibana, don’t you?” he asked Jane. Jane nodded nervously. At that moment, Jane noted three things about Sosuke that made her think naughty thoughts. He was Asian. He was hot. He was ruthless. And he made her want to kiss him. Jane bit her lip and told herself to concentrate on the situation at hand. “Yes, sir?” Sosuke frowned and nudged his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “A question or a statement?”

He was tall around 6’2 and his brunette hair and hairstyle reminded me someone who unwontedly barged in my life. Maybe it’s him….. My curiosity got best out of me and I found myself walking to the man. I with hushed steps walked closer to him. The man was looking at the grave and was unaware of my approaching hushed footsteps. As I was 3 steps away from him he suddenly turned with speed of tornado and a cold metal touched my forehead. My eyes widened. It was him….James Russo….but my eyes didn’t widened on him seeing here but on what was in his hand that he was pointing on my forehead.

The lights above the ring cast harsh shadows across his body, every muscle defined, every movement precise. His opponent towered over most men. Not over Kane. Not really. The man swung. Wild. Desperate. Kane moved like it was nothing. A shift. A step. Like he had already calculated everything before it happened. Mona's pulse quickened as she watched. This wasn't like anything she had seen before. This wasn't sport. This was control. The man lunged again. Kane slipped past it. And then— Impact. A right hook. Clean.