CHAPTER 98: THE DECISIVE PARRY
Nearby, the Kengan Association Referee stared at the battlefield.
He had officiated over a hundred matches, witnessing some of the most legendary clashes in Association history. He was a veteran of the underground. But even he felt his palms grow damp with sweat.
Should I stop it?
Katsumi Orochi had unleashed the Mach Punch—a strike that literally broke the sound barrier. Ren Shiroki had been launched like a ragdoll, smashing through heavy timber. By any professional standard, the match should be called.
But the Referee couldn't find his voice.
He knew these two men. He knew that neither Ren nor Katsumi would accept a verdict while they still had a pulse. Unless it was a total knockout, any interference would be an insult to their resolve.
What do I do?
The Referee felt a surge of professional anxiety. He found himself praying for a variable—a ring-out, perhaps? If one of them fell into the sea, he could call it immediately. Because honestly? If he were in Ren's shoes, facing that sonic boom of a fist, he would have jumped overboard minutes ago.
"Ren..."
Katsumi watched as the bloodied youth pushed aside the splintered wood and stood up. Frame by frame, Ren hauled himself into a standing position.
Analyzing Ren's state with a warrior's eye, Katsumi knew this was it. The youth had zero stamina left. His body was a broken machine.
But a question flared in Katsumi's mind: Can I actually beat him?
Ren wasn't a giant like Hanayama. He didn't have the "God-Tier" mass. Yet, as Katsumi searched his own mind for the image of victory—the mental visualization of himself standing over a fallen Ren—the image remained blurry. He couldn't see the "Win."
"I can't even imagine him losing... Am I still too green?"
Katsumi tightened his fists. He began to march forward, closing the distance for the final time.
Ren's face was a mask of dark crimson. His features were obscured by gore, leaving only his eyes—bright, piercing, and fixed on his opponent.
"Ren-kun... I won't ask what's driving you. I'm past that now."
"But you have to realize... in your condition, you can't dodge. You can't retreat. My next strike will connect."
Katsumi stopped one pace from Ren. He was in the optimal range for the kinetic chain to reach terminal velocity.
"Do you yield, Ren?!"
Katsumi's voice was a ragged growl. He was trying to intimidate Ren, but in reality, he was trying to convince himself. He was looking for that one mental image of "Victory."
But the harder he analyzed the facts—Ren's shaking legs, his labored breath, his broken ribs—the more the "Win" eluded him. Why did the youth still look like a mountain?
He scanned the crowd. The spectators looked ready for it to end. Even Suedo and Fusui looked like they were waiting for the curtain to fall. They saw a man standing on pure willpower, someone who would collapse if you blew a heavy breeze his way. They thought the Mach Punch was overkill.
But Katsumi knew they were wrong.
He wasn't facing a "Wounded Man." He was facing a first-class warrior who defied imagination.
"REN!"
Katsumi looked at the bloodied silhouette. His eyes darkened.
Throw it. Launch the punch.
The pressure was suffocating. Katsumi felt that if he didn't launch the strike now, he never would. He needed to hit Ren just to confirm his own existence.
While Katsumi hesitated, Ren Shiroki raised his arms. The [ENGINE] flared back to life. His cold, clinical gaze peered through the gap between his forearms.
"Katsumi!"
Katsumi roared. His eight joints fired in perfect, micro-timed sequence. The Mach Punch erupted!
SNAP!
The sonic boom echoed. But in the middle of that beautiful, high-frequency crack... something else sounded.
CRACK!
The spectators gasped, their eyes locking on Ren. They expected to see his guard shattered and his body launched into the ocean.
NO.
In a micro-movement that defied the limits of human reaction, Ren Shiroki's left wrist pivoted. He didn't block the punch; he parried it. He met the sonic force at a precise tangent, redirecting the trajectory so the iron fist whistled past his cheek.
SHING!
The "Edge" of the Mach Punch sliced Ren's cheek open, a deep gash that sprayed fresh blood into the air. But the mass of the blow hit nothing but wind.
"..."
In that heartbeat, Katsumi "heard" it.
He heard the sound of his own "Visualization of Victory" shattering into a million pieces.
Ren had defended against the Mach Barrier.
At death's door, facing a strike that could break stone, Ren Shiroki had reached the absolute apex of martial awareness.
[ENGINE] — [DRIVE PARRY]!!!
It was a defensive maneuver that could only be held for a single frame—the most extreme, high-precision block Ren had ever executed.
"I really... can't see the 'Win'..."
Katsumi was empty. He used his final spark of energy to launch a second Mach Punch.
"REEEEEEN!"
SNAP!
Ren's left arm rose, his wrist meeting Katsumi's forearm. He didn't just move the arm; he "Synced" with it, guiding the kinetic energy harmlessly upward.
[DRIVE PARRY: PERFECT GUARD]!
Katsumi's fist flew high, missing the target entirely. The missed strike left him in a state of terminal stiffness—his balance was gone, his front wide open.
Ren Shiroki let out a roar. His vision was a pulsing red fog. He didn't need to aim. He didn't need a master to guide him. He simply leaned in and "Dumped" every remaining ounce of his life force into his knuckles.
BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!
A savage, uncoordinated flurry of heavy punches rained down on Katsumi's face and chest. Blood and sweat sprayed like rain in the floodlights.
Ren drove the giant back, step after agonizing step.
Katsumi finally hit the side of a massive steel shipping container. He had nowhere left to go. Ren loomed over him.
[DRIVE IMPACT: SHOCK STRIKE]!
BOOM!
Ryu's straight punch buried itself into Katsumi's chest.
The giant hit the steel wall and bounced forward, right into a follow-up hook.
BOOM!
Ren stepped back a half-pace and wound up for the third strike.
CLANG—CRUNCH!
The sound wasn't of a fist hitting meat. It was the sound of Ren's knuckles striking the steel wall. The metal buckled, leaving a deep, blood-stained crater.
Ren blinked, his vision slowly returning. He looked down.
Katsumi Orochi was already slumped on the deck, unconscious. He had been out before the third punch even landed.
"I won..."
Ren's body tilted. He leaned his shoulder against the shipping container for support. He slammed his bloody hand against the metal—CLANG—and let out a raw, soul-shredding scream.
"I WON! AAAAAAGGGGHHHH!!!!"