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please reuploud, i would like to hear it 😭🙏🏻

Thank you so much. I'll enjoy it

@inin I put it in my profile [About Me]. Please look there.

Yes, thank you so much. I love it!!!

Thank you so much ! <3

Thank you so much <3

Thank you<3

@Dani2000 I saw the link in your request. "Re-upload Rikai Funou Kuso Cutie ღ Owal [JP]" would be a better topic title. But I think it's best to search the Request Reupload section first. I previously commented on a topic with the same title.

Thank you so much!

Thank you for sharing!

@inin I only have volume 1 (83 pages), is that okay?

. .

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. . @HelenaHandbasket, @slodkapyrka, @Ploynananow, @Kinaju, @leny thai, @Chicani, @JRDD, @Viopolonia, @Aoballll, @Kisa0911, @magnamous29

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Please reupload this 🙏

Can you please reupload this? 😭

Added Episode 5 [SubsPlease] Mikadono Sanshimai wa Angai, Choroi. - 05 (1080p) [99066F1C].mkv

Sora lay half-propped on the stretcher, pain threading through every inch of his body like fire under the skin. His side throbbed with every breath, sharp and shallow, like his ribs were made of glass. The paramedics moved around him quickly now, securing bandages, applying pressure, and talking in firm, hushed tones to one another. But even their careful hands made him flinch. He barely registered them. His eyes were locked on the space where the van had been. The pavement was still scuffed with tire marks. Pieces of broken glass glittered near the curb. Asta’s name echoed in the back of his mind, over and over. They took him. I couldn’t stop it. I should have— “Try to stay still, okay?” one of the medics said to him, as she adjusted the strap holding him in place. “You’ve got a possible fractured rib. We need to get you to the ER.” Sora nodded faintly, jaw clenched. His thoughts were like a storm with flashes of the fight, Asta struggling, the sound of the van door slamming shut. He could still hear his own scream, raw and useless. Guilt was settling in deep, heavier than the blood on his shirt. Then...Fang shoved the paramedic aside. Sora’s eyes widened in alarm. “Fang…” he rasped, trying to sit up too quickly. Pain flared instantly, white-hot and dizzying. He winced, his hand gripping the edge of the stretcher. He felt it. That presence. Sora’s breath caught. For a moment, he could almost forget the pain in his chest. A calm fell over the human, when he felt Fang's gentle hand on his cheek. Only then could he released the breath caught in his throat. Fang was already kneeling beside him, his touch rough with concern, his voice a growl. The sound of it cut through everything else. The sirens, the muttering crowd, the angry medic pushing himself off the ground. He was so close Sora could see the pulse ticking in his jaw. Sora’s trembling hand reached up, found Fang’s shoulder, and pressed it gently, but deliberate. “Fang… stop,” he whispered, barely getting the words out. “Please.” Fang froze, eyes locking onto his. “I'm so glad you are here,” Sora said, his voice steadier now, even through the pain. “Don’t hurt them. They’re just trying to help.” The shift in Fang’s posture was subtle, but Sora could feel it. The slow withdrawal of his fury, even if it didn’t fully vanish. He watched him step back with obvious reluctance, still watching every movement the medics made like he didn’t trust them to breathe the same air. Sora gave him a weak, grateful nod before the other disappear behind the medics. The flashing red and blue lights had doubled now. As more more officers were arriving. One tried to approach, notebook already in hand, but was stopped by a medic. “Not yet,” she said firmly. “He needs to be seen by a doctor before you question him.” “But we need details. He’s the one who was with the young man who was taken” “He’s injured,” the medic snapped. “You can take statement from everyone else who witness it as well.” Sora barely heard them. His vision was getting fuzzy at the edges. He wasn’t sure if it was painkillers or shock ... or both, but the world was starting to feel a little less real by the second. Still, he clenched his fists against the blanket. Stay awake. Stay focused. Asta needs you. Fang’s warmth lingered nearby, like a silent shield. Even without looking, Sora knew he was still close by. Just knowing that helped. It pulled him back from the edge. He’d done his best to calm Fang down, but now he needed to calm himself. He couldn’t fall apart. Not yet. Asta was out there. And he needed someone to find him. Before they could hurt his friend too. Sora tried to look for Fang. He could already guess the police would never catch the men behind it, if they actually were supernatural beings. He hoped Fang or maybe Leon could help Asta. Atleast they would know a bit of what to do, he thought. ------ Fang’s grip tightened around Leon’s throat, slamming him against the brick with enough force to rattle his teeth. The rough scrape of stone dug into his back. A snarl from deep down his throat passed thought Leon’s lips His puma stirred under his skin. Fang’s growl was hot against his face, but Leon’s gaze locked onto him with ice-cold clarity, golden irises beginning to bleed through the human blue. His pupils narrowed, thin and vertical like a predator in low light. The whites of his eyes darkened at the edges, shadowed by something that wasn’t quite natural. Then his jaw cracked. His cheekbones shifted upward, subtly sharpening, his skin drawing tighter across his face like it was pulled by unseen strings. A ridge formed beneath his lower lip, where his canines pushed through. The beast beneath his skin looked right back at Fang. One side of his mouth curled, half human, half beast. “Let go,” Leon said low, voice still his, but threaded with something far rougher. Something inhuman. His voice held that strange double-tone—his and the beast's, overlapping. A fine line of veins darkened beneath his jaw, and his claws had just started to push through his fingertips when the rage began to stabilize. His control was tight, but barely. Then Leon moved. He grabbed Fang’s wrist, fingers locking tight, and shoved him back hard enough to make the wall behind them shudder. He didn’t lounch out or tried to fight the alpha wolf. But the message was clear. “Back. Off,” he said, voice low and simmering. “Unless you want to find out what happens when I stop holding back.” He wasn’t fully shifted, but his features blurred with something dangerous and raw tipping on the edge. After a few seconds, Leon exhaled, slowly, and looked Fang in the eye. Still boiling but no longer explosive. “Sora wasn’t the target,” he said, his voice tightening. “They weren’t after him.” He looked away briefly, jaw flexing, like it physically hurt to say the next part. “They took Asta.” The words felt like ash in his mouth. Saying it out loud didn’t make it feel more real. it made it worse. “I didn’t know what happene before I saw Sora getting thrown back into that car door. I was across the street. The van came out of nowhere. I couldn't see. It hit hard and fast. I tried to reach them but” His voice cut off for a second. “By the time I got there, Sora was on the ground, and the van was gone.” Leon reached down and pulled his phone up. The screen was cracked, but the call log still glowed. “Then I got a call. From the person behind it.” He didn’t need to explain who that was. “She made it very clear. She is gonna make sure I never see Asta again.” Leon’s hands shook, but he didn’t let it show in his face. “I’m going to find that van. I’m going to find every person who helped take him. And I’m going to tear them apart.” His voice dropped to a near-whisper. Not out of fear—but cold, focused fury. His voice was steady, rough around the edges, but clear. “Sora is safe with medics. You were fast, you got here fast to him protect him. What those bastards did... you know they don’t care if they hurt a few humans on the way and no one it preventing it either” He stepped closer. Just enough for the next words to land like steel. “But the men who hurt him? The ones who laid hands on your mate?” He leaned in slightly, his tone darkening. And yes he adresse Sora as Fang’s mate because how the hell else would the werewolf keep him so close constantly and care for the other in that way. He'd seen Fang in the bar with both sex on his arms but his stone cold face never showed much emotion. “They’re still out there. Thinking they are getting away with it.” He hoped that struck the nerve he needed. Leon didn’t blink. “But I plan to find them. I plan to make them wish they’d never touched whats mine. But I need help as you’ve got something I don’t.” He tapped Fang’s chest once with a finger. “That nose of yours. You can track that van from the person's scent off Sora’s shirt right?. Hell, the sidewalk is probably still warm with their trail.” A pause. “You want revenge? You want to make sure they never walk again?” Leon took one last step, his voice low and deadly serious. “Help me find them. You lead me to them, and I'll let you tear most of them apart.” A flicker of something colder crossed Leon’s face. “Just don’t touch that woman, she is mine to deal with.” He pulled back then, jaw tight, barely holding himself together. “I’m not asking for a favor. I’m offering you payback. With blood.” Then he nodded once, then walked toward the sidewalk on the other side. Where a smear of blood still marked the pavement near the car and shattered glass. “If we don’t move now, they really will be gone. And I don’t plan on losing Asta. Feel free if you’d rather stand here and let the ones who hurt your mate disappear.” Leon turned his back and started walking to cross the street. He looked calm and focused on the outside but, but on the inside a blazing rage was eating him raw. ------------ They moved Asta like cargo. Restrained, silenced, and severed from anything familiar. They moved from the black van into a different car and did wild detours through anonymous streets. No cameras, no obvious routes. Each switch and deliberate to ensure Leon couldn’t track them. The men who had taken Asta were disciplined, efficient and shifters themselves. Their eyes betrayed no compassion. Their loyalty lay with Camill. After what mighthsve felt like forever, they reached the harbor. And drov to som abandoned warehouse on the water’s edge, half-obscured by fog. Doors opened. Cold air poured into the car The scent of sea salt followed. Gulls overhead. Distant waves slapping gently against harbor pilings. Steel underfoot. Concrete echoing under movement. Inside the warehouse, white light buzzed overhead, sterile, and flickering faintly. The chair Asta was tied to, had been bolted to the floor. Restraints were secured behind his back. The guards returned to stillness like statues posted at a royal gate. A figure emerged from the shadows: Camill. She was elegance incarnate. High cheekbones, eyes that glittered with contempt and calculation. Draped in tailored designer but unassuming clothing for a city visitor, she wore a faint perfume of lilies and steel. Her heels rang crisply on the ground, gold-tipped and deliberate as if she owned the world under her foot. There wasn’t a hair out of place. Behind her, the two shifters who had helped with the transport stood awaiting her orders. Camill circled Asta once, letting her gaze linger on his bruised face. Her lips curved faintly. She stopped several paces away from the chair, gazing at the boy bound there as though surveying a piece of bad art. “This,” she said finally, voice dry and cool, “is what Liam chose” The silence around her was obedient, reverent. Not a breath from the guards. Not a twitch. Her eyes swept up and down the boy with clinical detachment. Her voice remained low and measured, every syllable shaped for maximum precision. “You don’t even know, do you?” She gave a soft, joyless smile. “He never told you. Of course he didn’t. That would’ve ruined the illusion.” Camill’s gloves adjusted along her wrists as she spoke, her gaze never wavering. “Your little human games and your sweet, naïve infatuation could ever mean anything beyond a novelty.” She gave a quiet exhale of irritation. “Liam is not your equal. He is not your kind. And I warned him. What would happen if he refused to come home.” She walked a slow circle around the chair now, almost absentmindedly. “Instead, he clung to you. Used you as an excuse. Allowed himself to feel for you. And now, look at what it’s cost.” Her voice cooled even further. “He forced my hand.” Camill came to a stop directly in front again. “I didn’t bring you here to harm you. Not yet. I brought you here to show him what his defiance buys.” A pause. “You.” Her expression didn’t shift. It didn’t need to. Everything she intended was in her voice. “I gave him a choice. He returns to our world, to the family that raised him, to the life and power he was born into… or he loses everything. Liam has always had a rebellious streak,” Camill said coolly, speaking more to herself than to the boy in the chair. “But even I didn’t think he’d fall this far. To hide among you them. To catch feelings.” Her voice dripped with disdain at the word, as if it physically disgusted her to say it. She stopped just behind the chair, looking down at the back of his head. “It should have been simple. A few years away, sowing wild oats, a bit of posturing. Then he’d come home when he tired. But then” Her voice sharpened. “You made it complicated.” She stepped in front of him again, this time leaning in closer, her expression tight with scorn and something colder—something calculating. “Do you know what happens to obstacles in our world?” she asked, her tone deceptively soft. “They are removed. Silently. Permanently. And yet, here I am… offering mercy. Do you know why?” She gave him no time to answer. “Because Liam still thinks he can protect you. Still believes there’s a future in this place with you. He doesn’t understand what he’s risking by clinging to someone like you.” Camill straightened, brushing an imaginary wrinkle from her sleeve. “I brought you here to make him choose." she said, almost bored now. "And he will. Because I know him better than he knows himself.” Her eyes narrowed, lips curling in a faint sneer. “He will come home. He will take his rightful place... And you” she tilted her head, “You will be removed from the equation. Out of his view away from twisting his head.”

Thank you!

Thank you!