Nagoya, Shinsei Securities.
At the stairway,
Arriving before him, the first man swung the baton in his hands at him quickly, but Kenji, without breaking a sweat, slightly stepped left to avoid the swing effortlessly. His right hand clenched into a fist, almost turning into an afterimage, and hit the attacker just slightly below his neck.
Crack! Argh!
A clear sound of bones breaking, followed by a painful groan, was heard. The attacker tumbled down on the spot, motionless. But as Kenji had dealt with the first one, two more were onto him, swinging towards him simultaneously.
But Kenji's hands, quicker than theirs, grasped the wrists of their hands holding the batons.
Kenji's grip on the attackers' wrists tightened like a vice, his fingers digging into their flesh with a strength that almost felt inhuman. The two froze, their batons hovering mid-air, but before they could even react, Kenji twisted his body, pulling their arms downward in a fluid motion, using their own movements against them.
Their bodies lurched forward, off-balance, and with a quick pivot, Kenji drove his knee into one of the men's stomach.
"HA!!"
A sharp wheeze escaped the attacker's mask. Clutching his gut, he collapsed on the stairs. The second man tried to wrench free, swinging his baton wildly, but Kenji was a step ahead. With his left forearm, he casually deflected the blow and, in the same breath, delivered a precise elbow strike to the man's temple.
Crack!
The crack of impact spread in the stairway. The man's knees buckled, and his body slumped against the railing before sliding down in a heap.
Three more men charged up the stairs, their heavy boots thudding against the concrete. Kenji didn't back down and moved towards them as well. The first of the trio lunged, aiming a baton at Kenji's chest, but he sidestepped, his body flowing like water, and grabbed the man's outstretched arm.
With a quick twist, he redirected the attacker's momentum, sending him flying and crashing into the second man behind him.
The two collided with a dull thud, tumbling down a few steps in a tangle of limbs. The third man, seeing Kenji body them like it was nothing, hesitated, his survival instinct kicking in without any control over his body. Kenji didn't give him time to decide and closed the distance in a single stride.
His punch landed square on the man's jaw, the force sending a shockwave through his body.
KENG!!
His head snapped back, and he dropped like a stone, the baton clattering uselessly down the stairs.
The remaining attackers—four of them, including the leader—fanned out at the stairs below, their confidence visibly shaken by what they had witnessed.
They exchanged quick glances, and three of them, except for the leader, rushed upward the next moment.
Kenji didn't wait for them to approach. He leapt down the stairs, covering the distance between them in a single jump. The closest attacker swung his baton in a desperate arc, but Kenji ducked under it as his fist drove upward, catching the man under the chin with a sickening crunch.
His respirator broke at the point of impact as well, leaving him out cold even before he hit the ground.
The other two swung at him in unison, but Kenji was a blur. His hands moved like lightning—one palm strike to a man's chest sent him staggering back, tumbling down the stairs with broken ribs.
A spinning kick after a duck to avoid a swing caught the other on the side of his head, dropping him instantly.
All this happened within a matter of seconds, the stairwell littered with groaning and motionless bodies. Kenji stood tall, his chest rising and falling evenly, in his black eyes some emotion from what he had just done.
"It really feels good to cheat," admitted Kenji without any hesitation, the panel having granted him a fighting skill which he couldn't have achieved in probably ten lifetimes. And he didn't hate it one bit—really glad at being given such an opportunity.
With such thoughts in his head, Kenji raised his gaze at the last man standing at some distance before him, his baton limp in his hand and his posture rigid as he stared at Kenji. Behind the respirator, his eyes were wide, his pupils dilated with a mixture of fear and disbelief.
"Just… who the hell are you!?" asked the man in a tone laced with disbelief and some fear, the members of his squad bodied like they didn't know the first letter of fighting. They were elites among the elites, trained day and night for such operations, and yet this man before him had dispatched them without breaking a sweat.
What he had witnessed almost felt supernatural to him.
"HA!"
Kenji couldn't help but chuckle at his question, walking down the stairs, closing the distance between them, a wry smile on his face.
"Just a soon-to-be unemployed guy."
Saying that, Kenji lunged at him. The leader stepped back to avoid his charge and then dropped the baton in his hand, bending a little and lunging back at him in an attempt to grapple—only to see a knee enlarging in his vision.
THUD!!
The respirator broke, and even some blood trailed down from it. The leader, his thoughts blank, tumbled down, out cold like most of the others in the stairwell.