On Eichi's side…
His wooden katana snapped in two, the sharp crack echoing through the underground.
The halves clattered to the ground.
Standing before him was Kanemura.
Broad. Calm. Silent.
The air around him felt heavier.Like gravity itself bowed to his presence.
Eichi's hands trembled—just slightly.
Not out of fear.But because this was his first fight.His first real enemy.His first moment standing alone.
He wasn't used to it.
No techniques. No experience. No backup.
Just instinct.
Still, Eichi didn't back down.
He took a step forward—closer.
Now they stood eye to eye.
Kanemura didn't flinch. His eyes cold, unreadable.
Eichi's heart pounded.But his voice didn't shake.Not this time.
He stared right back at the man.
"I'm not going to run."
His broken blade hung loosely in his grip.
His body said novice.But something in his eyes said otherwise.
Something that made even Kanemura pause…for just a second.
Kanemura's presence was overwhelming.
He stood tall, shoulders broad, body coiled with power. The kind of man who didn't need to shout to dominate a room.
Eichi stared at him, half a broken wooden katana in hand, the other half still clutched awkwardly in his left.
"…That's not ideal."
His thoughts were a storm.What do I do now? My katana's broken—wait, do I even know how to use a katana? I watched like... three videos…I should've watched four.
Kanemura took a slow step forward.
His eyes narrowed.
"You going to fight me with that stick?"
Eichi didn't respond.
He couldn't.
Because his brain was too busy screaming.
RUN.
But instead, his legs betrayed him—and stepped forward.
Just one step.
Deliberate. Calm. Straight into Kanemura's space.
The entire casino went quiet.
Gasps. Whispers.
"He's not flinching…"
"That kid… he's got guts."
But Eichi? Eichi was just too afraid to move backward.
He was locked in fight-or-freeze—and somehow landed on "step forward and die with honor."
Kanemura frowned.
"Hmph. Fine."
And suddenly lunged—fast, brutal.
A sweeping kick tore toward Eichi's legs.
But—
CRACK!
Kanemura stumbled back.
Eichi had dropped to one knee. Not to dodge, but because his shoelace had come undone. The kick had whiffed right over his head.
Eichi looked up, blinking.
"Huh?"
Kanemura rubbed his shin.That was too close.
"Was that a feint?" someone whispered.
"Looks like he predicted the angle… insane reflexes."
Eichi stood slowly, brushing dust off his knee. "I uh… meant to do that."
He held his two katana halves like twin daggers now.
Unorthodox. Stupid. Wrong.
But terrifying.
To the enemy.
"Twin-blade stance?""Did he break his own katana on purpose?""This guy… he's not normal."
Kanemura growled and came in again. A jab—sharp and trained.
Eichi flinched. Swung wildly.The broken tip of his katana smacked Kanemura across the cheek.
A lucky hit.
Kanemura staggered, touching the shallow cut in disbelief.
He was bleeding.
"…You little punk…"
Eichi froze.
"Ah… that wasn't supposed to hit."
But Kanemura took it another way. He thought Eichi was taunting him. Playing with him. Like a cat toying with a mouse.
A twisted smile spread on Kanemura's face.
"Fine. Let's see how long you can keep up this act."
They clashed again.
And again.
Each time, Eichi barely dodged—stumbled forward—accidentally avoided a blow—smacked Kanemura in the ribs when losing his balance.
Each move born from panic.
Each interpreted as masterful misdirection.
Soon, Kanemura's breathing grew heavy.
His strikes less precise.
"Tch… what kind of style is this!?"
Eichi, sweating buckets, almost dropped his katana half.
He whispered, "…I call it… improvisation."
The crowd gasped.
"Improvisation…!"
Kanemura stepped back.
One eye swollen shut. A thin line of blood traced down his temple. His lip split and bruised.The aura that once suffocated the room had cracked—just a little. But enough for everyone to feel it.
Eichi stood across from him, his chest heaving.Hands trembling.His broken wooden katana clutched tight.
His legs wanted to give out. His breath came in short gasps. He was trying—trying not to cry.Not because of the pain.But because he still couldn't believe he hadn't died.
And then—
Kanemura raised a hand.
The Unuodera men, who'd been watching with tense anticipation, stepped forward. But Kanemura barked:
"Don't move."
His voice, still strong.His pride, unbroken.
He turned his eyes back to Eichi, studying him like a beast sizing up something it didn't yet understand.
"That was lucky," Kanemura growled, wiping blood from his chin."But don't get cocky, kid. Luck doesn't come twice."
Then—he lunged.
Fast. Too fast.
A sweeping kick. A jab toward Eichi's ribs.
But Eichi didn't freeze this time.
He remembered the drills.Masaki's voice in his head: "Step aside, redirect. Don't meet power with power—turn it."
So he moved.
Dodged.
The heel of Kanemura's boot scraped past his shin, but Eichi spun and shoved the man's elbow aside with the flat of his broken blade. Not graceful.Not pretty.But enough.
Kanemura's body twisted from the unexpected redirection—and for a second, his back was open.
Eichi didn't think.
He just swung.
The jagged end of his broken katana smacked into Kanemura's shoulder.A meaty thunk echoed through the casino hall.
Kanemura grunted, staggered.
"Ghhk—!"
Eichi followed through, trying to stay in motion like Masaki told him—"Don't stop, or you'll freeze!"
Kanemura regained his footing and launched a hard elbow strike.
But Eichi bent low—awkwardly—almost fell forward—but it worked. The elbow missed. And in that same stumble, Eichi's knee collided straight into Kanemura's gut.
Bam.
Kanemura coughed—his eyes wide now, not with rage, but confusion.
"What the hell is this kid…?"
Eichi stepped back, wobbling, barely staying on his feet. His face drenched in sweat, arms shaking. He wasn't winning with skill. Not technique.
It was something else.
Instinct.Panic.Blind, desperate rhythm.
And yet—
It was working.
From the sidelines, murmurs spread among the Unuodera ranks.
"Is he… actually fighting him?""He's untrained… but he's forcing Kanemura to retreat?""Who is this guy!?"
Their leader.The one they were supposed to crush tonight.Was standing.
Eichi's breath was ragged.His lips moved without sound, mouthing words to himself.
"Okay, okay… just stay calm. Don't cry. Don't cry… you're doing okay…"
Kanemura glared at him now, his pride burning.
He charged once more.
And this time—
Eichi didn't flinch.
For the first time…He could feel his body responding.
The timing.The footwork.The way his weight shifted with each dodge—Not perfect. Far from it.But fighting finally made sense.
"I get it… I finally get it…"
But it came too late.
His body was spent. His vision blurred.He couldn't lift his arms fully anymore.Even holding the broken katana hurt.
And Kanemura—He knew.
The older man advanced, blood staining the side of his face, fury in his eyes.
"You're slowing down."He grinned."Good. Let's end this."
The punches came fast.
A right hook grazed Eichi's temple.A jab caught his shoulder.Then another—tearing through the edge of his jacket and grazing his ribs.
Each hit didn't land clean, but they hurt.More and more, Eichi felt like a battered scarecrow swaying in the wind.
He stumbled.Then stepped forward.Another blow missed his cheek by inches.Another scratch—his forearm sliced open as he tried to block with the wrong angle.
He kept going.
Forward.Step by step.
Kanemura frowned—just slightly.Why wasn't he backing off?
Eichi's hand reached down—Clutched the splintered shaft of his broken katana.He reversed it, gripping it backward like a dagger.
The jagged edge—the part that had snapped—was now pointed outward.
"I just need… one opening."
Kanemura lunged again, aiming to finish it—
And that's when Eichi twisted his body to the side, barely dodging the punch, and rammed the sharp edge of the broken wood into Kanemura's ribs.
"GHHH—!!"
Kanemura's eyes widened, his whole body lurching forward from the shock of the pain.
A groan burst from his mouth.He staggered backward—his arms flailing—then dropped to one knee, clutching his side.
Silence.
Eichi stood, blood and sweat mixing down his face, every muscle screaming.But his hand was still clenched tight on the broken weapon.
He didn't speak.
He just looked down at Kanemura, barely standing, and—
Didn't collapse.
That was enough.
From the sidelines, Unuodera soldiers began murmuring in disbelief.
"He took down Kanemura?""That kid? He—he stabbed him. In close quarters.""And he's still standing?!"
Whispers turned into panic. Some started backing away. Others looked toward the exits.
In that moment, even Eichi didn't understand what he'd just done.He wasn't sure if he'd won or survived by mistake again.
But the way they looked at him…
Like he was a monster.
Eichi stood there, chest heaving, arms shaking with exhaustion.
Kanemura was still kneeling—barely conscious, blood dripping from his side.But there was no hatred in Eichi's eyes. No mockery.
Only a quiet, heavy respect.