Chapter 192: Explosive Ambush
"…Is that so?"
Retsu Kaioh paused, accepting the result with a graceful nod. As he stepped down
from the ring, he passed Lihito and gave him a light, encouraging pat on the
shoulder with a smile. "Anyway, good luck!"
Ren Shiroki also jumped down and approached Lihito.
Normally, being knocked out twice in ten minutes would leave a person with a
severe concussion, but Lihito looked like he was ready to head to an
all-you-can-eat buffet.
"Nice. That's incredible!" Ren gave Lihito a thumbs-up. "This is a rare
opportunity, man. Taking hits from a Heavyweight World Champion is worth a
fortune in experience points!"
Lihito: "..." Lihito: "…Huh?"
He still hadn't quite processed the logic of Ren's encouragement.
A short distance away, the "God of War" Gaolang Wongsawat watched them in
silence.
He had come to this Boxing Expo primarily because his old home gym had asked for
a favor, and it was a good excuse to let the King relax. But as a true martial
artist, Gaolang's eyes were fixed on a different horizon:
The Kengan Annihilation Street Brawl.
Commissioned by the "Yatsugashira Trading" company, Rama XIII had dispatched
Gaolang to fight. For the glory of his King and to satisfy his own soul's
yearning for a battle to the death, Gaolang was determined to crush every
obstacle in his path.
He had some intelligence on the other participants, but he truly hadn't expected
to run into so many "True Warriors" on his first day out. Whether it was Ren
Shiroki or Retsu Kaioh, they were formidable tigers blocking his path!
As for "The Faceless Man" Chiba Takayuki, he was just an amateur actor—hardly
worth a second thought.
Then there was Lihito…
Gaolang: "Hm…"
Lihito noticed Gaolang's gaze. Despite the champion's stoic "dead-fish eyes,"
there was a look in them that made Lihito feel like he was being studied as a
rare, curious animal.
"Hey! What's with that look?!" Lihito grumbled as he let the staff help him
secure his gloves. He slammed his fists together and took a deep breath.
"Whatever! My head is still a little fuzzy, but this is a once-in-a-lifetime
chance. I'm coming at you with everything I've got!"
Lihito and Gaolang stepped onto the ring, standing on either side of Sayaka
Katahara. After tapping gloves, they retreated several paces, waiting for the
signal.
Lihito was the first to drop into his stance.
Perhaps because he was still feeling a bit dizzy, he didn't start with his usual
wide-open, aggressive posture. Instead, he chose a tight, defensive shell.
I can do this, Lihito thought. As long as I don't get one-shotted, I'll find an
opening and counter-hit!
Gaolang remained silent, showing no signs of underestimating his opponent. He
dropped into his signature boxing stance—the "Hitman Style" (a variation of the
Philly Shell).
He stood bladed, his left arm draped low across his torso, using his lead
shoulder for defense, while his right glove was tucked tight against his chin.
The moment he settled into that posture, the pressure radiating from him spiked.
The air around him seemed to warp visibly.
Ringside, Retsu Kaioh arched an eyebrow. "That is no mere sport. That is a true
combat art. He is a warrior worthy of a duel."
If a master like Retsu felt that way, Lihito, standing directly in the line of
fire, felt it a hundred times over. His instincts screamed at him to retreat,
yet he gritted his teeth and held his ground.
"Hm. Not bad…" Gaolang murmured. "You aren't a complete amateur. But you are
still green."
"Give me a break! I've already lost twice today!" Lihito bared his teeth at
Gaolang. "I know you're a monster, but I'm not losing without swinging first!"
Sayaka stood between them, raising her hand. "Ready?"
"—FIGHT!!!"
The shout was like the crack of a starter pistol.
BOOM!!!
…Wait. That wasn't a metaphor. It was a real explosion!
In the exact center of the ring, a ball of fire erupted. The blast was violent,
sending flames shooting toward the ceiling and filling the hall with rolling
black smoke.
In that heartbeat of chaos, both Gaolang and Lihito reacted instantly.
Gaolang, with his experience as Rama's royal bodyguard, lunged forward and
shoved Sayaka away from the epicenter of the blast, sending her flying to
safety.
Lihito's reaction was a split second slower, but no less heroic. He charged
forward, positioning his massive frame between the blast and Sayaka's falling
figure.
Rumble!
Shards of the wooden ring floor sprayed outward, slicing into Lihito's arms and
leaving minor burns across his skin. Just as the fire threatened to consume him,
Gaolang reached out, grabbed Lihito by the waistband of his trunks, and yanked
him backward out of the path of the rising inferno.
Crash!
In the blink of an eye, Lihito, Gaolang, and Sayaka had evacuated the ring. Only
Lihito had sustained minor injuries.
But for Gaolang, this was the ultimate insult.
As Rama's personal blade and Royal Guard, having someone pull a stunt like this
right under his nose touched his "reverse scale." His eyes turned cold with
murderous intent.
"Whoa! An explosion!" "Terrorist attack! Call the cops!" "Stay back! There might
be more bombs!"
The crowd dissolved into panic. Fortunately, most of the people present were
connected to the underworld and had a higher mental threshold for violence,
preventing a total stampede.
Ren Shiroki went on high alert immediately.
"Is this a 'Grenade Escape Art'?" Ren looked around, his neck craned. "Who's
trying to bail? Wait, is someone actually trying to run away?"
However, Ren soon realized the explosion wasn't meant for an escape. It was the
entrance for a "New Player."
Amidst the panicked, moving crowd, a "static" figure stood out like a lighthouse
in a storm.
"—Who are you?" Gaolang turned, his brow furrowing as he looked at the newcomer.
It was a massive, hulking brute of a man. His muscles were jagged and clearly
defined. His hair was split down the middle—black on the left, white on the
right. His forehead was a map of scars, and his nose appeared to have been
completely pulverized in the past, now held together by a metal corrective
brace.
He held a tactical shotgun and wore a heavy trench coat. Beneath the fabric, the
tell-tale outlines of hard armor—likely steel plates—were visible.
"So even a point-blank blast couldn't scratch you? As expected of the Great
Gaolang." The brute turned slowly, racking a shell into the shotgun's chamber
and aiming it directly at Gaolang. "Hey. Do you still remember who I am?"
Gaolang's eyebrows narrowed. His gaze was filled with a mix of fury and pure
disgust. He didn't intend to waste words on the man.
The brute chuckled and introduced himself. "I am Kazu Fujita. We fought in
Thailand back when I was trying to become the King's new bodyguard. You remember
now?"
Hearing the name, Fusui Kure's eyes flashed with recognition. She whispered to
Ren, "That guy is a veteran CACC (Catch-as-Catch-Can) wrestler. Fought for over
fifteen years. Known for being incredibly sturdy. I heard he went overseas after
an 'accident' left him disfigured."
Rama XIII added from the side, "It wasn't an accident. He wanted to be My guard,
so he challenged Gaolang. He was beaten so badly his face was permanently
rearranged."
The group dissected Kazu Fujita's history in seconds, but the man didn't care.
His goal today was pure vengeance against Gaolang Wongsawat.
"Your fists are fast, I'll give you that." Fujita tilted the shotgun toward
Gaolang. "So, thanks to the funding from IDEAL, I was able to prepare this
little gift for you."
"Smuggled weapons?" Gaolang's eyes remained heavy. "Pulling a weapon in front of
My King... do you wish to never stand again?"
"…Ha!" Fujita sneered, his finger tightening on the trigger, intending to drown
Gaolang in lead.
At this range, no matter how fast Gaolang's fists were, they couldn't outpace a
shotgun blast.
Puff!
The trigger was pulled, but a strange, muffled sound echoed—as if the firing
mechanism had been obstructed.
Fujita looked down in shock. A boxing glove—a literal glove—was wedged firmly
over the barrel of the shotgun!
He punched the gun? No.
The glove wasn't attached to anything. It had been "fired" through the air,
plugging the muzzle of the shotgun at the exact moment of discharge!
A shotgun's power is based on spread and surface area; it lacks the concentrated
piercing power to hunt large game or penetrate the thick, high-density material
of a professional boxing glove. The buckshot was entirely contained by the
glove!
"What the—?!"
Fujita looked up. Gaolang stood in a follow-through posture, his right hand
bare. He had literally punched his own glove off his hand and into the gun's
barrel.
He must have unfastened the laces the moment Fujita started talking.
As the glove lost its momentum and fell from the barrel—
Zip!
Gaolang lunged forward with a high-speed Drive Rush. His left hand became a
blur, unleashing a relentless barrage of Flash Jabs.
Thirteen strikes in a single breath.
The second strike shattered the metal nose brace. The remaining eleven drove
deeper and deeper, caving in Fujita's already disfigured face.
Thud!
Fujita wobbled for a second before his legs gave out. He crashed to the floor,
his face a mangled wreck in a growing pool of blood. He had lost control of his
bowels before even hitting the ground.
"..."
The silence that followed was deafening. The surrounding experts were stunned.
Lihito, in particular, was paralyzed. He had been seconds away from fighting
this man.
"Ah. Do not worry." Gaolang turned back to Lihito, raising his hand to reassure
him. "If we were in a match, I wouldn't hit that fast."
Lihito felt a small sense of relief.
Gaolang continued: "After all, in most matches, the winner is decided within the
first few punches anyway."
Lihito: "..."
With a terrorist bombing having occurred and multiple "VIPs" present, the
Metropolitan Police Department couldn't ignore the situation. The Boxing Expo
was officially over.
The good news was that no one felt cheated—they had seen Gaolang's legendary
"Flash" in person.
The even better news? Ichika Iori, who arrived to handle the case, just got
another +1 to her performance record.
"Magnificent work, Iori!" Her boss, Commissioner Haru Takeyama, shouted over the
phone with praise. "Not only did you arrest a terrorist, but you handled a
'National Level' diplomatic incident so well that the VIPS aren't pressing
charges for our security failure! You're amazing!"
Ichika's eyes sparkled. "So, about that paid vacation time…?"
Haru's voice grew even louder with "encouragement." "Keep up the good work!
Promotions and raises are in your future! I have to go now, bye!"
Click—!
Ichika: "..." Ichika: "DAMMIT!"
"..."
Ren and Fusui, who had been eavesdropping, immediately began to sneak away,
terrified of being caught in Ichika's aura of resentment.
Once they were back with the main group of friends, they breathed a sigh of
relief.
"So…" Ren put his hands on his hips, looking at the collection of new and old
faces. "The match is off, and the cops are cordoning off the building. Where do we go now?"
In the silence, a sudden sound echoed:
Gurgle-gurgle!
It was Lihito's stomach.
He raised his hand. "It's time for dinner! How about BBQ? I know a great spot nearby!"
The others looked at each other, then at Lihito's scorched and bleeding arms,
which the man himself seemed to completely ignore.
Was he just that "Big-Hearted," or just incredibly over-familiar? Either way, the man was undeniably sturdy.
(End of Chapter)
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