CHAPTER 138: MIGHT VS. CRAFT
Soul Combat Hub. The Yard.
Fusui Kure, Yuzuha Li, Nozomi Tenma, Mitsuyo Kureishi, and Doppo Orochi remained seated on the picnic mats. Their orientation had shifted, however; they were no longer facing each other, but were turned toward the makeshift sand-pit arena.
Doppo sipped his hot tea and crunched on a sweet cracker. Surrounded by promising young warriors and a high-level technical exchange about to unfold, the Grandmaster was in a state of absolute bliss.
In the ring, Takeshi Wakatsuki kicked off his trainers. He ground his bare feet into the sand, testing the traction. "Nice. A standard-grade environment. Perfect for a focused session."
"Of course," Ren Shiroki replied, removing his own shoes. "The crew is reliable, and I've been maintaining the grit myself."
Ren looked at the "Wild Tiger" and hesitated. "Shirtless?"
"No need," Wakatsuki waved a hand, looking slightly bashful. "I'm just here for a 'Grand Tour.' I haven't reached the level of 'Unsatisfied' where I'd walk into a friend's yard and demand a deathmatch."
Ren nodded, understanding the professional distance. He began a series of dynamic stretches. "In that case... just a light round of technical fencing?"
Wakatsuki gave a solemn nod. "Indeed. Light. Let's focus on the 'Rhythm.'"
The two men squared off.
Wakatsuki was a Rokushin Kaikan veteran. He was a master of Full-Contact Karate, but his style was unique, adapted to his own specialized biology. He settled into a classic striking stance—a variation of the Zenkutsu-dachi.
Legs staggered. Lead foot forward, rear foot flared at 30 degrees. He kept his heels anchored, his center of gravity leaning slightly forward. His fists were held high at chest level.
It was a foundation designed for high-torque lunges and linear strikes—the bread and butter of the Wild Tiger.
Ren maintained his modern MMA stance—the style of Luke. His posture was fluid and indeterminate. His weight shifted constantly, his arms held in a "High-Guard, Low-Cover" configuration.
"Hoo—"
Wakatsuki exhaled. He watched Ren's light, rhythmic bounce. Recalling the footage of the Akoya fight, the Tiger reached a conclusion.
"He's an all-rounder. Not a speed-blitzer, but he possesses an elite 'Agility' of mind. He adapts the style to the frame, not the other way around."
Since it was a technical spar, overthinking was useless. Wakatsuki adjusted his output and lunged. He fired a standard lead straight.
ZIP!
Ren focused. He slipped to the outside of the punch. He noticed Wakatsuki was pulling the "Might" behind the strike, so he offered a grateful smirk and focused entirely on the "Craft" of the counter.
TAP.
Ren executed a palm-parry against Wakatsuki's elbow, guiding the punch wide.
Taking advantage of the momentary gap in the giant's guard, Ren launched a right uppercut. His fist traveled underneath Wakatsuki's extended arm, aiming for the chin.
"!?"
Wakatsuki's eyebrows shot up. He jerked his chin back, the knuckles missing his skin by a hair. Simultaneously, he retracted his lead arm, driving his elbow backward to clear Ren's space.
Ren raised a forearm, catching the elbow with a soft THUD.
"Nice!"
Wakatsuki accelerated. He launched into a flurry of fluid Karate combinations—unleashing a "Gale" of punches and kicks that forced Ren into a defensive retreat.
Right reverse-punch. Spinning back-fist. A low-kick to create leverage, followed by a mid-level roundhouse.
BAP! BAP! THUD!
The back-fist was particularly technical—Wakatsuki used the protrusion of his index and middle knuckles to "tap" Ren's forearm, the sound sharp like someone knocking on a door.
"Is that the Shinshinkai's 'Power-Flurry'?" Nozomi gasped. "I've never seen it from this close. The speed is terrifying!"
"Hmm..."
Doppo Orochi started to speak, then stopped himself. He watched for another ten seconds before turning back to his tea. "Heh. They're being so polite. Neither of them has used a single ounce of real strength yet."
Nozomi blinked, confused. Fusui Kure offered the translation.
"The keyword is 'Constraint,' Nozomi-san. The Boss is right. They're just checking each other's frame data. It's a dance, not a fight."
The spar ended a minute later. There was no winner.
Wakatsuki had provided the "Pressure," and Ren had provided the "Evasion." Both looked fresh, having only tested the "Geometry" of their respective styles.
"Thank you," Wakatsuki said, taking a wet towel from Ren to wipe his face.
The group transitioned from the sandpit into the nearly-finished Hub building. The warriors wandered the corridors, inspecting the new gear.
As they walked, they passed a heavy-duty industrial scale equipped with a height-rod. On a whim, Wakatsuki stepped on it.
"Height: 193cm (6'4"). Weight: 193kg (425 lbs)."
Nozomi, walking behind them, froze. She stared at the digital readout. "Wait... is the scale broken? 193 kilograms?! That's nearly 430 pounds!"
She looked at Wakatsuki. He was a broad, muscular man, but he wasn't a giant like Marco. There was no way he should weigh that much based on visual volume.
"He's... he's too heavy!"
Fusui patted Nozomi's shoulder. "The Hub's gear is fine. It's the Tiger who's 'Special.'"
The Kure girl triggered her vision, her black-and-white eyes scanning Wakatsuki's frame. "Takeshi Wakatsuki. He was born with a condition. At birth, he weighed twelve kilograms—four times the average for a newborn."
"His muscle fiber density is approximately 52 times that of a normal human. He is a biological outlier. In terms of pure 'Might,' even a Kure using 100% Removal would struggle to match his raw grip."
"It's called the 'Superman Syndrome.' Unlike Minowa's 'Defective' growth, Wakatsuki's condition has no side effects. He doesn't need to eat constantly to survive. He just gets stronger as he gets older. He is a 'God-Body' monster."
Ren listened to the girls' discussion, remembering his own assessment. "In terms of 'Super-Physiques,' the Boss... Hanayama... is in the same category. But Hanayama-kun is a 'Natural' version."
"Correct," Wakatsuki nodded. "I've heard the legends of the Hanayama family. He's a freak of nature who refuses to train. My path is different. I've had to study the Craft to harness the Might."
"Which brings me to you, Shiroki-san."
Wakatsuki looked at Ren. "You've never fought a true Super-Physique at full power, have you?"
Ren thought about his duel with Hanayama. They had drawn, but they were both "Warming up" the entire time.
Wakatsuki gestured for Ren to follow him back outside.
Near the construction debris, Wakatsuki found a thick, discarded structural steel plate. He propped it against a pile of broken concrete, bracing it so it wouldn't shift.
"Hanayama is a master of the brawl. But a Super-Physique that possesses both Might and Craft? That is a different category of 'Scary.'"
Wakatsuki looked at Ren. "Just now, we played with 'Craft.' But if I add 'Might' to the equation..."
Wakatsuki took a deep breath. He centered his weight and threw a standard, effortless straight punch at the steel.
THOOM!!!
A sound like a localized explosion echoed through the neighborhood.
The three-inch thick steel plate buckled as if it were made of aluminum foil. A perfect crater was punched through the metal, the steel warping and tearing around Wakatsuki's knuckles.
The 52-fold muscle density had turned a "Normal" punch into a tank shell.
Nozomi Tenma stood paralyzed.
If Wakatsuki had used that "Might" during their spar, Ren would have been launched through the fence. A single block would have resulted in an open compound fracture.
"That is a Super-Physique..." Doppo murmured, a hungry grin on his face. "Magnificent! The Wild Tiger has a much sharper bite than a Siberian cat!"
Wakatsuki retracted his fist. "Kureha Shinogi is a different type than me. He's 'Scientifically' perfected. But his 'Mighty Body' is the real deal. He can do to a human what I just did to that plate."
"My Craft comes from Karate. His Craft comes from Surgery."
"Ren-kun... I'm curious. Facing a man who has both the 'Blade' and the 'Hammer'... how will you survive?"
"Thank you for the tea. I'll be back for the rematch once you've cleared the Doctor."
Wakatsuki and Kureishi took their leave, exchanging cards with Ren.
Doppo waved goodbye shortly after, promising to see Ren on the day of the match.
By late afternoon, the yard was quiet. Only Fusui, Yuzuha, and Nozomi remained.
Ren walked over to the warped steel plate. He reached out and touched the crater, feeling the heat still radiating from the metal. The sight of it was a physical weight on his mind.
A perfect body combined with perfect tech.
As Ren stared at the steel, the ink-wash lines in the yard swirled. The phantom of GUILE appeared.
The Soldier used his butterfly comb to adjust his flattop, then crossed his massive arms, peering at the iron plate with Ren.
[On the battlefield, there are no rules. You will encounter variables you never anticipated. Environments that work against you. Gear that is superior to yours.]
[In the end, the only thing that decides who walks home is the strength of the vessel. No matter the era, that 'Hard Truth' never changes.]
Ren looked at his Master and gave a solemn nod.
He was 187cm and 99kg. He had grown significantly, but compared to the Titans, he was still "Normal."
Akoya was 114kg.
Suedo was 131kg.
Kureha Shinogi was estimated at over 130kg of pure, medically-enhanced density.
To fight a "Super-Physique," Ren needed to stop thinking about his limits. He needed to build a body that could house his "Will" without breaking.
"Master," Ren whispered, looking at the phantoms. "I've reached a conclusion."
"Before I step into that ring... I'm going to build some more muscle."
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