CHAPTER 139: THE PHYSIQUE EXPERT
Gaining mass and building muscle is a common goal in the world of sports, but the methodology changes drastically depending on the objective.
A Sumo Wrestler eats massive quantities of food paired with deep, scheduled sleep to maximize weight. They aim to become a biological fortress, an immovable wall of flesh and power anchored to the dohyo.
A Bodybuilder, on the other hand, obsesses over the dimension, symmetry, and visual impact of every individual muscle group, following a hyper-specific aesthetic regimen.
But for a Fighter? The math is far more complex.
In the underground world, where weight classes are often ignored, "Mass" is a double-edged sword. You need the power that comes with size, but you cannot afford to sacrifice the technical agility or the cardiovascular "Engine" required for a high-intensity struggle.
"Quality" of mass is infinitely more important than the "Numerical Value." If you build a body that looks like a tank but moves like a glacier, you've already lost.
Ren Shiroki had wasted years being "broken," and while his foundation remained, he was behind the curve compared to the "front-line" monsters of the Association.
But as Arisa liked to say, their family was blessed with god-tier luck. Among Ren's mental roster was the world's leading expert on functional mass.
The "Red Cyclone," Zangief.
The Master of the Iron Body accepted Ren's request with a boisterous roar of approval. He took over the curriculum for Ren's daily conditioning.
It was an intensely high-octane, almost barbaric training style. Zangief didn't believe in "Light Days." He believed in the unyielding friction between iron and spirit.
By the end of the first afternoon, Ren was facedown in the grass, his lungs burning and his skin steaming with sweat.
"..."
Ryu sat nearby, a faint, proud smile on his face. He was pleased to see his disciple evolving.
Guile crossed his arms, offering a stoic nod. [Did you gain anything today? Master isn't about the leap. It's about the single, agonizing step. Keep walking.]
Ren was too exhausted to speak. He could hear Luke and Jamie cheering in the background, their energy acting as a second wind for his aching muscles. He simply raised a trembling thumb in acknowledgement.
The Next Day.
Ren's recovery was holding steady, allowing him to ramp up the intensity.
Inside the Hub, the first wave of equipment had been unboxed. Squat racks, cable machines, and power benches were being bolted to the concrete floor. Ren integrated them into Zangief's routine immediately.
Under the Russian's guidance, Ren's weight didn't balloon, but his "Force Projection" changed. He was learning to recruit muscle fibers in a sequence that maximized the "Might" behind every strike.
CLACK!
Ren dropped a pair of heavy dumbbells onto the mats, the plates ringing with a satisfying metallic chime.
"Hoo... hah...!"
Ren finished his final set of weighted Russian twists. He unstrapped his ankles from the decline bench and sat up, his torso a map of defined, functional muscle.
A dry, clean towel was tossed over his head.
"Thanks," Ren said, wiping his face.
"You're welcome, Ren-chin. I put some popsicles in the fridge for you and Arisa-chan."
Fusui Kure was sitting on a training bench, swinging her legs. She held a soda-flavored ice pop in one hand; her tactical backpack sat on the floor beside her. Ren could see the distinct, long silhouette of a disassembled rifle barrel peeking out from the flap.
Ren dried his hair. "Just finished a job?"
"Yeah. The Clan received a request to 'Sanitize' a few targets near our village in the mountains."
Fusui took a bite of her popsicle and stretched. "Some idiots thought they could sell restricted narcotics on Kure turf. My cousins were not amused."
"According to our intel guys, that crew used to be active in central Tokyo. They were pushed out a few weeks ago and had to scramble for new territory."
Fusui's eyes narrowed, her black-and-white pupils locking onto Ren. "Ren-chin... do you know what that means?"
Ren shrugged, beckoning for her to continue.
"It's like an ecosystem," Fusui explained. "When an apex predator enters a territory, the lesser wolves flee. If criminals are running out of Tokyo, it means something much more terrifying has just arrived in the city."
"Anyway... you look thicker. The training is actually working!"
By afternoon, Ren moved to the heavy bag.
He hadn't been training for long when another visitor arrived. It was An Sakurai, the underground doctor Nozomi had introduced.
"Hey, Boss! Nozomi said you were doing a 'Body Modification' program?"
An waved, her split tongue flickering. "I'm your medical director, after all. If the Boss has needs, I have to provide support. Besides, I need updated biometric data for my files."
"Unfortunately, I'm a surgeon, not a strength coach. So... I brought a 'Senior' from my days at Teito University. We used to be quite close back in the lab!"
Ren stopped his punches. He and Fusui both turned toward the gate.
Standing in the entrance were two familiar faces. The orange-haired "Super-Surgeon" and his blade-like younger brother.
Kureha Shinogi and Kosho Shinogi.
The brothers froze as they saw Ren.
Kureha let out a weary laugh. "What a coincidence. I didn't realize An's 'Boss' was you, Ren-kun. I was planning to call you in a few days to finalize our venue."
An blinked. "Wait... you two know each other?"
Fusui pulled An aside and gave her the high-speed breakdown of the upcoming duel between Ren and Kureha.
An looked surprised, but Kureha brushed it off with a wave of his hand.
"It's no problem. An-chan was a brilliant student; I'm happy to assist her. And besides... why can't we be friends before the execution?"
Kureha walked over to Ren and began a clinical inspection of his frame, asking about his diet and his caloric intake.
When it came to the science of the human body, Kureha Shinogi was the world's leading authority. He had used his own research to forge a "Super-Physique" that bypassed the limits of natural training.
While Kureha ran his tests, Kosho stood in the corner, chatting with Fusui and An.
"My brother's physical output has surpassed the human baseline," Kosho noted, his voice low. "His presence is as lethal as a blade. He has the explosive power of a heavyweight boxer, the agility of a sprinter, and the endurance of a marathon runner."
"He calls it his 'Perfect Body.' It's the ultimate surgical masterpiece."
Meanwhile, Kureha followed Ren on a tour of the Hub's interior.
"A decent facility," Kureha noted, stopping in front of a heavy-duty squat rack. "The gear is professional. You can see the 'Love' for the craft in the selection."
Kureha gripped the bar. "Muscles that are built solely for 'Show'—without functionality—are disgusting to me. They are the lowest form of tissue. A man with 'Show Muscles' would lose his breath just trying to wash a window."
As he spoke, Kureha began adding plates to the rack. He didn't stop until the bar was bending under the weight. The total load was over 500kg (1,100 lbs)—a weight that would crush a normal human's spine instantly.
Kureha backed into the rack, performed a set of ten rapid-fire deep squats, and racked the weight without even a hint of exertion. He turned to Ren, his eyes shining with a clinical intensity.
"Your training plan is excellent, Ren-kun. I didn't realize you were an expert in biological recruitment."
"But your diet is a mess. It's too 'Rough.' I'll draft a nutritional schedule for you. Adjust it as you see fit."
Ren smiled, accepting the advice. "Thanks, Doc. I owe you one."
Fusui watched Kureha's "Super-Training" with a look of genuine shock. The man was having a casual conversation while squatting half a ton. His biological efficiency was horrifying.
Kosho sighed, recalling the history of his brother. "Ever since the tournament at the Dome—after he yielded to me and lost to the Ogre—Ani-ki has been obsessed. He hasn't stopped training for a single day. He's doubled his workload."
"The man standing in front of you today... is not the same man who fought Baki Hanma. He is a different species."
Kosho paused, letting out a low chuckle. "And honestly... neither am I."
After the training session, Kureha wrote out a medical memo and handed it to Ren.
During the hand-off, the doctor noticed Ren spacing out again—that look of deep, pained confusion.
"What's on your mind, Ren-kun?" Kureha asked.
Ren didn't blink. "I was thinking about how to beat you."
"Any results?"
"None yet."
The two men stared at each other for a long moment. Then, simultaneously, they both burst out laughing, slapping each other on the back like old friends.
The Shinogi brothers departed shortly after.
On the walk back to their car, Kosho looked at his brother. "He's an honest one. It seems you have the advantage, Ani-ki."
"Only for today," Kureha corrected him, his eyes narrowing with a dark, eager anticipation.
"After I lost to Baki, I promised myself I would never underestimate a fighter's instinct again. The 'Will' of a seeker defies scientific calculation."
"I can guarantee one thing, Kosho. On the day of our match... Ren Shiroki will be much stronger than the man we saw today."
"I can't wait to see what he brings to my table."
☆☆☆
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