Chapter 222: The Reconstruction Project
Another day of recovery passed.
The battle with Dorian was already two nights ago. Ren Shiroki woke up early,
assessing his physical condition. Finding himself mostly recovered, he began his
new daily routine.
After finishing his morning run, he returned to the Soul Combat Hub for
fundamental striking drills.
Bang! Bang! Bang—!
One punch after another slammed into a heavy bag covered in bandages and
patches. He worked until he was drenched in sweat, droplets falling into the
dirt at his feet.
Clack!
He finished the set with a high-roundhouse scan-kick.
"Phew...!"
Ren exhaled a cloud of hot breath. He grabbed a towel hanging from a nearby
railing and wiped himself down. He draped the towel around his neck and stood
before the large mirror inside the Hub's French windows, beginning his
post-workout stretches.
Warm-up: Complete.
As he stretched, a rugged black motorcycle pulled up in front of the Hub's gate.
Maintenance tools were strapped to both sides of the bike's frame.
Fusui Kure, dressed in a tank top and shorts, strolled into the yard. She sat
down on a massive training tire and pulled off her sunglasses, revealing her
distinct black-and-white Kure eyes.
"Morning, Ren-chin!"
The girl grinned, looking him up and down. "Mm. You're looking even sturdier
than when we first met! Picked up a few more scars, too—"
Ren slowly lifted his leg, extending it vertically toward the sky, feeling the
activation of every muscle fiber.
Height: 187cm. Weight: 101kg.
In the world of underground fighters, his physique wasn't exceptionally massive,
but the map of scars decorating his skin was something that could never be
earned in the "surface world," no matter how hard one trained.
Tap.
Ren's toes touched the ground as he relaxed his muscles, bouncing lightly on the
balls of his feet. He turned to Fusui, hands on his hips. "So? What do you
think?"
The short-haired girl's eyes curved into crescent moons. "Nice. I like it a
lot!"
Fusui was here to hang out and train, but she had also brought tools to help
repair the outer wall and the damaged street.
As the two of them began moving the gear into the courtyard, the roar of another
engine echoed down the block. Compared to Fusui's practical black bike, this
newcomer's ride was incredibly flashy—a textbook "Delinquent" custom job.
The paint job was a dizzying mural of colors, and two large flags fluttered from
the rear. One featured the kanji for "Invincible," while the other bore the word
"GANDAM" in English.
The rider was the Second-Generation Leader of the Bozosoku gang "GANDAM," a
specialist in high-intensity brawling—Chiharu Shiba!
In his early twenties, tall and lean, he wore his full tokko-fuku gang jacket
with a headband. His shins and waist were wrapped in combat bandages. Ever since
witnessing Kaoru Hanayama's fight in the Underground Arena, Chiharu had deified
the man, calling him "Boss."
Influenced by the Hanayama-gumi's recent movements, Chiharu and his boys had
been patrolling the neighborhood. He had become a regular at the Hub, and having
promised to help with the repairs yesterday, he wasn't about to break his word.
"Oho! Ren-kun! And the little Kure lady! I'm here to help!"
Chiharu parked his bike and immediately began unloading a mountain of tools. "By
the way, the Boss said he's coming by today too. Sounded like he had something
to ask you."
"Hanayama-kun is coming?"
Ren was surprised. He helped Chiharu haul the heavy construction gear into the
yard, his mind buzzing with curiosity.
Before long, Kaoru Hanayama arrived.
The 191cm, 166kg patriarch of the Hanayama-gumi—and a nineteen-year-old high
schooler—strolled up the street. He wore his trademark white double-breasted
suit over a purple shirt, topped off with his gold snake-skin shoes and
frameless oval glasses.
Walking side-by-side with Hanayama was another man. He wore a traditional
cotton-linen training uniform and cloth shoes. It was Retsu Kaioh.
Hanayama kept his hands in his pockets as he walked straight up to Ren. "Pardon
the intrusion. I'm here for a drink, and I have a question for you."
He tilted his head toward his companion. "Kizaki dropped me off at the
intersection. I ran into Retsu Kaioh and decided to walk the rest of the way
with him."
"Welcome! You've got to try my Hub's special 'Prajna Soup' blend," Ren greeted
them warmly. He headed to the warehouse to bring out chairs, tables, and the
massive supply of whiskey Hanayama had gifted him previously.
Retsu Kaioh stepped in to help. He had been busy for the last two days arranging
for Dorian's care and hadn't had the chance to thank Ren properly.
"Dorian's mind has completely regressed. According to the regulations of
Alcatraz Prison, they can no longer carry out his execution," Retsu explained.
Ren had a right to know the aftermath of the battle. "I've been in contact with
the White Forest Temple. Deciding how to handle him will take time. There's a
proposal to extradite him to Arizona State Prison. The conditions there are...
unique. It might be the best place to contain a prisoner of his caliber."
As the three men set up the refreshments, the construction crew
arrived—contracted by Kaede Akiyama the night before. It was Mokichi
Construction, the same company that had built the Hub originally.
The team assembled. The reconstruction of the Soul Combat Hub officially began!
Meanwhile, at the far end of the street, two figures approached slowly.
One was a middle-aged salaryman in his fifties named Kazuo Yamashita. The other
was a powerfully built youth with wild, seaweed-like hair—Ohma Tokita.
They had met only recently during a chance encounter involving a street fight
where they'd crossed paths with Ren, Lihito, and Retsu. Since then, they'd been
pushed together by Hideki Nogi, becoming a "tag-team" tasked with braving the
Kengan Annihilation Street Brawl.
For Ohma, who craved battle and sought his master's killer, this was a dream
come true. For Kazuo, this experience had utterly upended his mundane
fifty-six-year-old life. Especially after learning that participating companies
had to pay a 5-billion-yen entry fee—which Nogi had "graciously" lent to
him—Kazuo's head was spinning.
He was currently stumbling-drunk, having clearly spent the night drowning his
sorrows. He leaned heavily on Ohma's shoulder as they walked.
"Counting the Kengan membership fees... I'm now fifty-one billion yen in debt!"
Kazuo wailed, having reached the point of total desperation. "Can a normal
person even owe that much? I must be some kind of legend! Right, Ohma-san?!"
"Yeah, yeah. You've said that ten times already," Ohma replied calmly. His face
and body were wrapped in fresh bandages, and two of his fingers were in
splints—remnants of his recent Kengan matches.
"Wait a second..." Kazuo squinted, trying to focus his vision. "This isn't the
way to my house."
"No. I asked Kaede for the address of that Soul Combat Hub. The owner is that
Ren Shiroki guy." Ohma nodded. "I want to ask him if he knows anything about
Yanagi Ryuko's location."
"Yanagi Ryuko?!" Kazuo froze, remembering the terrifying man who could stick to
walls with his bare palms. "Ohma-san, why would you want to find a freak like
that?!"
"What else?" Ohma gave a predatory, bloodthirsty grin. "Revenge, obviously."
Kazuo's head throbbed. "This is... I mean..." He desperately tried to change the
subject. "We haven't talked much, but I don't know if Ren-san is the friendly
type. That Retsu Kaioh guy was nice enough, but..."
Ohma cracked his neck. "If he's not friendly, I'll just fight him until he is."
Kazuo's headache intensified. "Ohma-san! Your old wounds haven't even healed
yet! Don't go picking fights and leaving yourself with permanent damage!"
"Got it, got it." Ohma gave a half-hearted dismissal as they rounded the corner.
From a block away, they could already hear the clamor of activity coming from
the Hub.
"Oh? Sounds lively. Is there a brawl going on?" Ohma's interest spiked. He
helped Kazuo speed up, arriving at the Hub's gate. "Excuse us!"
Ohma stopped, taking in the scene.
Both ends of the street had been blocked off with construction tape. Men in
safety helmets were scurrying everywhere. He saw some familiar faces—Ren
Shiroki, Retsu Kaioh—but also several strangers. The most prominent was a
massive man in a white suit.
Before Ohma or Kazuo could react, a Bozosoku punk marched up to them, thrusting
two safety helmets and pairs of work gloves into their hands.
"Oho! New recruits?! You guys are here to help, right?!"
"Thanks! Stay safe, boys! I'll go snag some beer and sodas for everyone in a
bit!"
Chiharu Shiba beamed at them, his "Guts" and enthusiasm so overwhelming that
Ohma and Kazuo found themselves unable to say no.
And so, inexplicably, the Ashura and his debt-ridden manager put on safety
helmets and began hauling bricks.
On the other side of the yard...
Kaoru Hanayama lifted several bags of sand and cement with one hand,
effortlessly shredding the heavy industrial bags with a flick of his wrist.
Ren Shiroki held a shovel, mixing the materials with water according to the
foreman's instructions.
"So," Ren asked, looking at the silent yakuza boss. "What was it you wanted to
ask me?"
Hanayama paused. He looked Ren in the eye and said plainly, "It's about a
woman."
"—!?"
The work in the immediate area ground to a halt. Every single person—Retsu,
Chiharu, and even the construction workers—instinctively leaned in, their ears
perked to catch the juicy details of the legendary Brawler's love life.
Hanayama added: "Not mine."
Disappointment rippled through the yard. Everyone returned to their work.
Then Hanayama continued: "It's about... Baki Hanma and his girl. Relationship
troubles."
The group's heads snapped back up simultaneously, ears twitching once again.
(End of Chapter)
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