CHAPTER 120: THE BRAWL BREAKER
Ren Shiroki stood at 187cm (6'2"). Billy Greco was nearly the same height, and Seishu Akoya stood at 191cm (6'3").
Compared to the three of them, the elderly Westerner who had just materialized from the shadows was a giant. He stood at least 205cm (6'9") tall.
He wore a loose grey hoodie and black sweatpants with worn-out trainers. His face was rough and weathered, with thick black eyebrows and a high, slightly balding hairline. A mane of white hair flowed into a dense, salt-and-pepper beard. Despite the wrinkles of a man in his late sixties or early seventies, his physique was terrifying. Massive, functional muscle rippled beneath his clothes.
He weighed well over 150kg (330 lbs) of solid mass.
Ren didn't need a formal introduction. His consciousness spiraled into Overdrive, the files from the Kengan briefing clicking into place.
Dorian.
The man who had survived ten minutes of hanging at Alcatraz before slaughtering fifteen guards and medical staff. One of the five death-row convicts who had descended upon Tokyo, "Seeking Defeat."
Billy Greco and Seishu Akoya didn't know the name, but their survival instincts reached a simultaneous conclusion: This man is a problem.
"My name is Dorian," the old man said. He raised his eyebrows in a sorrowful, "Eight-shape" expression. He looked remarkably innocent, even slightly sad.
"Pardon me, but could one of you kindly tell me where I might find Doppo Orochi?"
Billy didn't answer. He scanned the hallway behind Dorian. Finding it empty, his expression turned skeptical. "Wait a minute, old-timer. You came from that direction. Did you happen to run into my men?"
Dorian tilted his head. "Men?"
Billy's gaze remained lethal. He didn't drop his guard for a second. "Strange. You should have tripped over them."
"Oh...!"
Dorian's face suddenly lit up. He let out a joyous, booming laugh. "Aha! I didn't realize there was another English speaker in this hole! How wonderful! I'm truly moved!"
The sudden shift in emotion caught Billy off-balance.
But what happened next was even more unexpected. Dorian's smile widened as he reached behind his own back. He hooked his arm around the shoulder of a shadow and swung it forward, hurling a heavy object at Billy.
Billy caught the projectile, only to realize it was the mangled, blood-soaked corpse of one of his mercenaries. The man's jaw had been torn off, his left eye was a ruptured socket, and his face was a mask of dark, wet gore.
"What—?!"
Even for a man of Billy's calculation, the sight was a psychological shock. His vision was momentarily blocked by the weight of his dead comrade.
In that heartbeat of distraction, Dorian struck.
THWACK!
Dorian launched a high-line kick that struck the corpse in the neck, driving the dead man's skull into Billy's head.
BOOM!
Billy staggered back, his head ringing from the collision of bone on bone.
"F-u-c-k...!"
Billy's eyes turned bloodshot as he tried to reset his stance. But Dorian was already moving. He scooped up the riot shield and baton that Akoya had discarded earlier and charged Billy like an armored rhino.
THOOM!
Billy was launched backward, the heavy shield pinning him against the concrete wall. A spiderweb of cracks erupted around his silhouette.
CRASH!
Brick and mortar rained down as Billy slumped to the floor, coughing up a slurry of blood. Several of his ribs were clearly shattered.
Dorian stood over him, testing the weight of the riot baton. "Modern equipment is quite fascinating. The grip is excellent. Why would you throw it away?"
He turned his gaze toward Seishu Akoya, his expression turning sincere. "My thanks to you, Officer. Allow me to return these items to their rightful owner."
Dorian held out the shield and baton, gesturing for Akoya to take them.
Akoya's expression was a mask of cold fury. He could see exactly what Dorian was—a deceptive, murderous germ that needed to be eradicated. But "Justice" did not retreat from a challenge.
If the criminal was returning the weapons, Akoya would take them. He possessed the fastest reflexes in human history. He was confident he could counter any "Secret" move Dorian attempted during the hand-off.
"Bring them," Akoya growled, stepping forward.
He reached out to take the gear, his focus reaching a state of absolute peak concentration.
Try a sneak attack, maggot. I'll break your arm before you finish the motion.
But Dorian didn't attack. He handed over the shield and baton, then took two steps back, raising his hands in a gesture of peace.
Akoya frowned. His "Justice Pulse" told him something was wrong. His nose twitched, catching a sharp, acrid scent beneath the copper of the blood.
He looked down at his hands.
The interior of the riot shield and the handle of the baton were soaking wet. They were coated in a clear, oily liquid. Because Akoya was wearing tactical gloves, his sense of touch had been delayed.
Gasoline.
Akoya looked up. Dorian's cheeks were puffed out. He held a metal flask in one hand and a high-end lighter in the other.
FLICK.
Dorian triggered the lighter and—PUH!—sprayed a mouthful of high-octane fuel through the flame.
FWOOSH!!!
A massive wall of orange fire erupted, swallowing Akoya. The gasoline on the shield and baton ignited instantly, turning Akoya's tactical gear into a localized inferno. His hands, especially, were engulfed in blinding heat.
"RRRAAAAGGH!"
A burning silhouette illuminated the dark tunnel.
Having neutralized the first two, Dorian tucked his flask and lighter away. He walked over to Ren Shiroki and gave a light, elegant shrug.
"I assume you know Doppo-san?" Dorian's voice was melancholy, his eyes drooping with a look of profound sadness. "Tell me... do you think what I just did was 'cowardly'?"
Ren glanced at the bleeding Billy and the burning Akoya. He looked back at Dorian and shook his head.
"No. You aren't 'Cowardly,' Dorian-san. You're just proving a fundamental truth."
"Might has openings!!"
"HRAAGH!"
Ren didn't wait for Dorian to finish his act. He exploded into a jumping double-footed kick.
[ZANGIEF: SIBERIAN SOUR-PUNCH KICK]!
BOOM!
The strike caught Dorian in the abdomen. Even the giant didn't expect a youth to launch a suicidal "Flying Stance" in a deathmatch.
"Guh—!"
Dorian retched, the air leaving his lungs. He tried to speak, but Ren was already back on his feet, his [ENGINE] screaming. Ren didn't give him a second to breathe.
[ZANGIEF: MACHINE GUN CHOP]!
BAP! BAP! BAM!
Ren's hand-blades rained down on Dorian's face, splitting the skin of his forehead. Before Dorian could reset, Ren reached out, grabbed the giant's head with both hands, and delivered a terminal Headbutt.
CRACK!
Ren's skull met Dorian's nose. A fountain of blood erupted from the giant's face.
Dorian's head snapped back, but Ren was already inside the guard. He shifted his weight, his arms swaying in the erratic rhythm of the Master of Chinatown.
[JAMIE: FREEFLOW DRUNKEN FIST]!
A barrage of "Drunken" strikes peppered Dorian's throat and solar plexus. The giant was forced into a total retreat, gasping for air, his vision swimming. For the first time in Alcatraz history, Dorian was being bullied in a brawl.
"EEEEE-YA!"
BAM! BAM! BAM! BAM!
Dorian began to retch violently. Saliva, tears, and blood sprayed from his face. He looked like he was about to lose consciousness.
Nozomi and the others, watching from the corner, leaned forward. Is it over? Did Ren-kun just beat a death-row convict?!
But as Dorian retched, something metallic clattered in his throat. He reached into his mouth and—impossibly—vomited up a fragmentation grenade.
CLICK.
Dorian pulled the pin with his teeth and dropped the bomb at Ren's feet.
BOOM!!!
A violent explosion rocked the tunnel. Smoke and dust filled the air.
Ren dove into a side-niche, shielding his face as debris rained down. When the smoke cleared, he stood up and wiped the soot from his forehead.
The tunnel was empty.
Dorian and The Caracal were gone, having vanished into the maze of maintenance ducts during the confusion.
Only Seishu Akoya remained. He stood in the center of the hall, his tactical armor discarded and smoking on the floor. He was bare-chested, his skin red and blistering. His hands were scorched, layers of skin peeling away to reveal raw, charred flesh.
"Hoo..."
Ren looked at the wreckage. He patted the dust from his arms and looked at the half-charred cop.
"Match is cancelled, I guess. That Caracal guy said he got hit with a grenade earlier, too."
Ren raised an eyebrow at Akoya. "Seriously, what is it with you people? Are 'Grenades' just on sale at the corner store this week? How the hell do the Metropolitan Police manage their inventory...?"
"..."
Akoya's forehead was a map of throbbing, purple veins.
"What... did you... just say...?"
The Cop was officially Enraged.
☆☆☆
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