"Aaaaa!!!"
Enju shrieked in fear.
Because right in front of her, suddenly stood a strange figure wearing a full-body tight black suit, the jumpsuit type.
"Wait! It's me!"
The hood came down, revealing Rentaro's face, leaving Enju stunned.
"This is a training suit."
Rentaro had to explain. After hearing him out, Enju was still a little suspicious, having to pinch his face and nose for a while, only relaxing when she confirmed it was exactly Rentaro and not an imposter.
Since there was no longer a need to rush to the other Area, Rentaro could return to school and work at the agency—in short, return to his normal life.
However, everything was actually... much harder than he thought.
Rentaro thought he could skillfully endure the pressure from the suit, but when he tried to use it in daily life, he realized he had been too naive.
When holding a pen, just one mistake could make his handwriting crooked, the tip of the pen tear the page, or even the pen itself break in half.
When cooking, processing ingredients was the most bothersome step for Rentaro now. A single slip-up could cause him to miss his chop, or even split a part of the cutting board from the main body, or crush the ingredients. This left Rentaro feeling powerless to control his strength.
When fighting Gastrea, Rentaro's power usage was severely uncoordinated, causing him no small amount of pain and even potentially risking his life, had it not been for the protection of this suit. The defense capability of this thing was top-tier; normal Gastrea could only impact it but not breach it.
Even so, Kisara sternly warned him.
"Sa... To... Mi! Do you know how dangerous that is?! You could die!"
Facing his president's fury, Rentaro reassured her outwardly but secretly continued. Every day's activities, every day's training, every day's fighting—all were done while wearing that suit.
Because he seemed to have realized something.
Very quickly, a month's time passed.
Taking exactly twice the time as before, Rentaro was basically able to master himself while wearing that super-pressure suit.
One day, Rentaro met the Silver King again. But not in the Silver King's Area, but in the dojo where Kisara used to practice.
Immediately upon meeting, the Silver King spoke first.
"How does it feel?"
"Very difficult, Your Excellency."
The question remained the same, but the answer had changed.
Because Rentaro finally understood.
What the Silver King was asking was not about his health, but he was asking about "action."
From simple tasks like standing up, walking, gripping, and flailing his limbs like a primitive man...
To more complex operations like writing with a pen, chopping vegetables, and the combat of a modern man...
For Rentaro, these were never difficult, because as a human and a Civil Security agent, he had spent almost his entire life doing these things.
But now, they were truly difficult for him, to the point where every single action exhausted endless energy. This forced Rentaro to utilize all his strength, technique, and intellect to perform them.
Rentaro found it ridiculous to realize that the "martial arts" he had practiced for years, the "martial arts" he prided himself on, were not even as sophisticated as his current pen-holding posture.
"I cannot teach you anything."
The Silver King spoke suddenly. A look of doubt flashed in Rentaro's eyes, but he continued to listen attentively.
"Because what you see from me is not martial arts."
"But it is also the ultimate martial arts."
The last sentence was not spoken by the Silver King, but by a different voice.
It was Old Man Sukekiyou.
He glanced at Rentaro, then continued.
"Martial arts... is only a part of action."
"If basic movements are likened to numbers from 0 to 9, then any action, including martial arts, is a distinct combination of these numbers."
"If martial arts is likened to a number combination, let's compare a combat situation to an equation. What is the result of 1+1? If you learn the result is 2, it's easy to apply, but if the equation changes to 1+2, it no longer works."
"Those trash-level martial artists only teach and practice to train individual combinations, individual results."
"Leading to their martial arts being hollow, stiff, and lacking. Thus, they can only increase the combinations, increase the numbers, making their martial arts better equipped to handle more equations. This is why there are so many great schools, styles, and branches, becoming increasingly complex."
"But, can you imagine if what one grasped was not a combination, a fixed number, but... the number itself?"
Rentaro's pupils contracted.
That's right.
Grasping the ten numbers...
"Exactly. Just ten numbers are enough to create any combination. No matter how massive the equation is, even if it reaches hundreds of millions of trillions, the result will be solved. Any equation, any result is possible..."
"This is the ultimate martial arts, the infinite martial arts of the gods!"
Sukekiyou nearly shouted, his eyes gleaming with feverish devotion and aspiration. However, the Silver King squashed it.
"The ultimate of martial arts is no martial arts."
"It is every action, every instinct. It does not belong to the gods, because every single one of us can do it. Every person possesses their own ultimate martial arts."
Facing the Silver King, Sukekiyou smiled, clearly disagreeing. How could the ultimate martial arts he revered be something as "trivial" as a bunch of supermarket vegetables in the Silver King's mouth?
The Silver King also knew that these martial artists, though they seemed friendly and approachable, were actually incredibly arrogant. Without demonstrating through practical action, there was no way to subdue them.
"Very well, Silver King. Not being able to challenge you before has made me restless and itching for a fight. What do you say, shall we have a match?"
Sukekiyou curled his lip, his whole body burning with fighting spirit, as if he had returned to his youth and was no longer a 120-year-old man.
Staring intently at the Silver King, he revealed the katana at his hip. His entire body pressed down, his center of gravity lowered, causing the tatami mat beneath his standing feet to be depressed. From his exposed calf muscles, one could see every tendon surging, full of power. His entire body was concentrated to the extreme, just waiting for the moment to explode with power.
Like a sword freshly unsheathed, revealing its sharpness to the world. Even from a thousand miles away, one could feel a chill at the neck.
Rentaro gulped. Was this strange old man serious?
Since first meeting the old man, Rentaro had never seen Sukekiyou this serious. This Sword intent was definitely a life-or-death move.
Instead of considering whether to call Kisara over for assistance to prevent the conflict from escalating, Rentaro was more worried, afraid that the Silver King might ask him to step out and fight this old man.
Thinking of the scene where he would be neatly sliced into nine pieces, Rentaro couldn't help but shudder.
Fortunately, the Silver King did not ask him to step up and fight Sukekiyou.
After all, this was an old man who had been immersed in the way of the sword for a hundred years, while Rentaro had only just found his starting line. The distance between them was still vast.
And so...
"I will show you... my ultimate martial arts."
The Silver King spoke softly. Following that, the aura around him changed. It was like a mountain rising from the ground, solid and eternally present. It was like a giant, impenetrable fortress. It was like the sunlight casting down, magnificent and blinding.
The sharpest sword, confronting the zenith of the martial path.