CHAPTER 173: THE APNEA RUSH!
Here it comes!
BOOM!
Speck lunged forward with a stride that shook the earth. When he threw his first
punch, it didn't whistle through the air; it erupted with the sound of a
detonation.
Ren's ankles pivoted. He made a move to retreat, drawing Speck further into his
arc.
Speck followed up with a massive driving kick to widen his kill zone, aiming for
Ren's head with a ferocity that burned like a wildfire.
"SEI—YAH!"
ZIP!
The lightning-fast kick hit nothing but a shadow.
Ren hadn't actually retreated. He had feinted the back-step to bait the kick,
then dropped into a low crouch, spinning his body along the ground.
[JAMIE: FREEFLOW TORNADO]!
The moment Speck's front-kick missed, Ren snapped back up. He locked onto the
giant's centerline and fired a rapid-fire three-hit combination.
BAP! BAP! BAM!
[JAMIE: FREEFLOW DRUNKEN FIST]!
Against a heavy-duty monster like Speck, the high-speed jabs of the Drunken Fist
were designed for harassment. But Speck's physiology was a biological anomaly. A
man who could swim two hundred meters to the surface from a deep-sea prison and
fight for five minutes without air possessed a level of durability that defied
logic.
The Drunken Fist combination landed, but it didn't leave a mark.
In the microsecond Ren retracted his fist, Speck took a massive, greedy gulp of
air, manually refreshing his oxygen supply.
"!?!"
Ren realized the truth instantly.
This wasn't the middle of the rush. This was the Pre-Activation.
Speck's combat IQ was high. He wasn't wasting his stamina on meaningless motion.
He didn't want to start his legendary technique only to have Ren dance away.
So for now, he was throwing "Normal" punches and kicks—testing the range,
waiting for the "First Hit" to connect. Once he tagged Ren, he intended to
launch a five-minute uninterrupted slaughter. He didn't want to waste a single
second of his wind.
"Hee—!"
Speck exhaled a cloud of hot vapor. His eyes glowed with a savage hunger, a
twisted grin stretching his face. He began to swing his massive arms like iron
clubs, left-right, left-right.
ZIP! ZIP!
Ren back-dashed, then used his rear foot to launch a side-flip.
This was a fundamental Parkour maneuver, refined by Rashid into a combat evade.
It was faster and lower to the ground than a standard gymnastic flip.
SHING!
Ren's boots arced through the air like a crescent moon, his heels aiming for
Speck's temple.
But the "Non-Human" reality manifested again.
Speck didn't breathe. He didn't blink. He ignored the kick entirely, his massive
hand snaking forward to catch Ren's throat mid-air.
Seeing the "Claw" closing in, Ren's focus reached the zero-point. He slammed his
palm into the concrete, using his arms and legs in a synchronized burst of
kinetic energy.
BOOM!
Ren vaulted high into the air, soaring over Speck's head. As he passed the
giant, he lashed out with a horizontal leg-sweep.
THUD.
The kick caught Speck in the upper back. The giant stumbled forward a few steps,
using the momentum to take another rapid-fire series of shallow breaths.
"Hee... you can still play Parkour even without the jungle gym, can't you?"
Speck bared a row of yellowed teeth, looking back over his shoulder at Ren with
a look of pure amusement.
"Kid... high-difficulty moves like that eat through your gas tank. How long do
you think you can keep running?"
"..."
Ren bounced on his toes, tilting his head. He beckoned with a hand, inviting the
monster to try again.
The Hillside.
Fusui Kure and Motobe Izo watched with unblinking intensity.
Fusui's phone was still on a live line with Ichika Iori at the precinct. Through
the detective's voice, the two masters had just learned about Speck's "Gift" to
the United States.
"A five-minute, non-stop barrage that can pulverize the bronze of the Statue of
Liberty?!"
Fusui's brow furrowed, her hands tightening on her thighs. "If Ren-chin takes a
direct hit, it's over. Can he really dodge every single one?"
"Heh... difficult," Motobe murmured.
"In an exchange of fists, there is no such thing as a perfect defense. If you go
into a brawl thinking you won't get hit, you're already a third-rate amateur."
"I agree," Fusui said, her black-and-white eyes shimmering. "So... as a Master
of Real Combat... what would you do, Oji-san?"
Motobe offered a serene, cold smile. "You already know the answer."
Both warriors shared a dark, knowing chuckle. Their answers were different, but
the essence was the same:
"Frag Grenade." "C4."
In their world, if you were being dragged into an "Apnea Rush," you broke the
logic of the fight by detonating the arena.
Motobe sighed, looking back at the pit.
"It's a strange thing. Even in an era where cars drive themselves and we've
walked on the moon... there are still 'Fools' who pursue 'Might' through nothing
but their own blood and bone."
"What a wonderful bunch of idiots."
Motobe took a deep breath, his focus locking onto the fighters. "Let's see what
the 'Fool' has planned."
"HEI—YA!"
THOOM!
Speck slammed a heavy fist into the pavement. The concrete exploded, a deep
crater forming with spider-web cracks spreading for meters.
Ren hopped back, his breathing becoming shallow and fast.
He had slipped dozens of those heavy strikes, but Speck wasn't slowing down. In
fact, the giant was beginning to track Ren's rhythm. He was closing the gap
frame by frame.
"I'm not a rookie anymore. I won't make the same mistakes I did with 'Nioh'
Komada. But still..."
Ren looked at the approaching 230cm wall of muscle. He let out a long sigh.
"Facing a God-Breaker head-on... is actually pretty terrifying!"
"DON'T RUN NOW, KID!"
Speck let out a roar. He swung a massive fist.
THUD.
The punch finally connected. It didn't hit Ren's face, but it slammed into his
high-braced forearms.
The Apnea Rush had begun.
In that heartbeat—
BAMBAMBAMBAM!
A blizzard of high-velocity punches and kicks erupted, hammering into Ren's
guard.
Speck didn't use a weapon. He didn't need to. His own meat and bone were his
ultimate masterpiece.
"EEEEE—YA!"
BOOM! BOOM!
The giant's limbs were a blur of afterimages. He was throwing the same strikes
that had demolished the Bronze Goddess of New York.
He stared into Ren's eyes.
How do you like it, kid?! This is the Breathless Barrage! No openings! No
counters! No air! I won't stop until you are a red smear on the pavement!!
WHAP! WHAP! THUD! BAM!
The sound of fists hitting flesh was like a rapid-fire sequence of gunshots. In
the middle of it was the dull, sickening thud of knuckles finding bone.
The sound was a primitive, biological nightmare. It was the music of a
slaughterhouse. Blood began to spray from the clinch, painting the sand and the
concrete. No one could tell where it was coming from.
BAP-BAP-BAP-THUD!
Suddenly, Speck heard something.
In the middle of the thunderous percussion of his own punches, there was a tiny,
uncoordinated "Click."
He felt a "Slight Shift" in the texture of his hits.
"?"
Speck didn't understand, but his momentum was too high to stop. He continued to
pour his internal pressure into his knuckles, determined to empty his lungs into
Ren's chest.
CLACK... BAP-BAP-BAM!
There it was again. That weird sound. That strange hand-feel.
"REN-CHIN!"
Fusui's eyes widened. She reached for her rifle, ready to provide a long-range
intervention.
But Motobe caught her arm. He was staring at the exchange with a look of pure,
academic light in his eyes. "Wait... do you see what he's doing?"
Fusui blinked. "What?"
"It's like an extreme sport," Motobe whispered. "There are skiers who volunteer
to launch themselves down vertical glacial cliffs. They don't 'Ski' down; they
fall, using the edges of their blades to catch the tiniest protrusions of rock
to keep from hitting terminal velocity."
"They don't fight the fall. They Navigate it."
"Ren-kun is doing the same thing against the Apnea Rush."
Motobe held his palm up, then tilted it at a 45-degree angle.
"Speck's barrage is a vertical cliff of 'Might.' It's coming at Ren-kun like a
landslide. But Ren-kun isn't just defending."
"Look at his wrists. Look at his knees."
Using the visual boost of her [Removal], Fusui saw the truth.
Ren wasn't tanking the hits. Every time a punch came in, he was shifting his
guard by a fraction of an inch. He was "tapping" the sides of Speck's fists or
"tilting" his shins to meet the kicks at an angle.
He was using Parkour Logic to survive a 100-hit combo.
"Haha! This is incredible!"
Motobe slapped his knee, his eyes gleaming.
"Ren Shiroki isn't just fighting. He's treating the world's most dangerous rush
like a high-speed obstacle course!"
"He's navigating a five-minute Horizontal Cliff-Dive!"
☆☆☆
-> 30 Advanced chapters Now Available on Patreon!!
-> https://www.pat-reon.co-m/c/Hollowborn
(Just remove the hyphen (-) to access patreon normally)
If you like this novel please consider leaving a review that's help the story a lot Thank you