Chapter 248: From the Battlefield back to the Street
Drip... drip... drip...
Blood continued to leak from Ohma Tokita's pores. Crimson trails ran from the
corners of his eyes and mouth, mingling with sweat and saliva before hitting the
carpet.
Gaia asked Ren Shiroki to support Ohma's weight. He reached into a tactical
pouch, pulled out fresh bandages, and began wiping the gore from Ohma's face
with surgical efficiency. In a matter of seconds, he had completed a series of
clean, professional dressings.
Ren arched an eyebrow in genuine admiration. "As expected of special forces.
Your field-medics move like clockwork."
"It's just a temporary fix," Gaia replied with a faint smile and a shake of his
head. "He'll still need a hospital once we're clear."
Gaia turned to his squad and barked: "AT EASE!"
Clack!
The other four soldiers snapped their heels together and dropped into a relaxed
stance.
Gaia gestured toward the youth. "Take care of this warrior. He needs to
recover."
The hulking Kuraishi stepped forward, taking Ohma from Ren's arms and helping
him sit against the wall. The Twins immediately began a full diagnostic,
applying antiseptic and reinforcing his bandages. The Knife Expert handed Ohma a
canteen, took a swig himself, and then sprayed a fine mist of water over Ohma's
face.
"Refreshing, isn't it, Seaweed-kun?"
Ohma's eyes fluttered open. Clutching the Soul Combat Hub business card in his
hand, he looked at the four men treating him. He saw Kazuo Yamashita running
over, nearly tripping over a discarded rifle.
"Heh... you guys..."
Though his body was screaming in pain, Ohma felt a strange sense of clarity. His
mind was sharper than it had been all night; the fragmented memories were
finally beginning to settle. Ren's words had reached him.
If I want a rematch... I can have it anytime.
"His mind and body are finally beginning to cool down," Gaia mused, rubbing his
stomach where Ohma's last punch had landed.
"The Niko Style, hm?" Gaia murmured to himself. "I heard Motobe-sensei mention
it. A comprehensive system born from the Lawless Zone. It discarded traditional
weaponry to focus entirely on the perfection of bare-handed combat."
"It is... beautiful."
Gaia looked up at Ren Shiroki, offering a rare compliment. "Refined combat
techniques look like 'Weapons' to me. No matter the era, they possess a
functional beauty that is impossible to ignore."
Ren arched an eyebrow. "Techniques are the same as weapons?"
"Exactly," Gaia nodded. "Take the 'Bushin' Doppo Orochi for example. His
Karate—even when he is 'holding nothing'—is far more dangerous than an average
man with a gun. Combat arts, blades, firearms... they follow the same logic."
"Based on the objective, you strip away the useless fluff until only the
'Essence' remains. The 'Mission' of a weapon is etched into its physical form.
The 'Will' of a martial art is manifest in its fists and feet. Function becomes
form. That's why it's cool."
Ren felt a surge of pride. "To be complimented by the Strongest Soldier... to
have my art compared to master-grade hardware? I'm honored."
"I'm not an amateur," Gaia replied with a helpless shrug. "I've seen plenty of
'Martial Artists' who could rival heavy ordnance, blades, and even explosives."
"Including you."
Gaia studied Ren's build. "According to my Sensei—Motobe Izou—the 'Strikes' you
demonstrated against Speck had already crossed the threshold into the territory
of lethal weaponry."
Ren blinked, looking delighted. "Motobe-sensei actually praises people behind
their backs?"
Gaia's eyes crinkled. "Indeed. I'm almost jealous. Motobe-sensei is quite stingy
with his approval."
Simultaneously, the Shibukawa-ryu Aiki-Jujutsu Dojo.
The night was deep. Gouki Shibukawa, the seventy-five-year-old Grandmaster, was
hosting another veteran master of the "Real Battle" world—Motobe Izou.
Shibukawa had a history with Yanagi Ryuko from his youth, and Motobe had come
seeking leads on the convict's whereabouts. They hadn't found much, but the
chance for two legends to share tea was too good to pass up.
"My disciple, Gaia... he is a once-in-a-century genius," Motobe said, taking a
sip of tea. "He possesses a talent I lack: the ability to dive into an
opponent's psyche, to read their consciousness and perceive the 'First Step' of
an attack before it even manifests in the nerves."
"Coincidentally," Motobe continued, "I recently met a young man with a most
'Powerful Consciousness.' A boy who can even purge the un-consciousness of his
own biology."
Motobe looked at Shibukawa and smiled. "I wonder how those two will get along?"
Hotel Lounge, 10th Floor.
Ren Shiroki looked down slightly, and Gaia looked up slightly. They stood inches
apart, their gazes locked. Their eyes reflected each other's focus. Their
distinct auras mingled, further warping the pressure of the air around them.
"Gulp!"
Kazuo Yamashita swallowed hard again. "They... they aren't going to fight too,
are they?"
The special forces soldiers' eyes all twitched simultaneously. But Ren and Gaia
suddenly waved their hands dismissively and burst into a fit of laughter,
slinging their arms over each other's shoulders.
"Hahahaha!"
The laughter was infectious, making the rest of the group chuckle in confusion.
"Haha... phew." Gaia wiped a tear of amusement away. "There might still be
stragglers in this building. Let's wrap this up."
"The lower floors are clear. We continue upward." He pointed a finger toward the
ceiling. "Based on the time, the sun should be coming up soon. Ginza's sunrise
has a unique flavor. Let's head to the roof to see it. What do you say?"
"Nice. That's perfect!"
Ren laughed and nodded. The others agreed. Only Sikorsky looked miserable, but
with no way to escape and four special forces soldiers staring him down, he had
no choice but to limp along.
The group moved through the upper floors, systematically clearing the remaining
hitmen. Without hostages or a central plan, the syndicates were broken. They
were apprehended and zip-tied with minimal effort.
Ren, Gaia, Ohma, Kazuo, the squad, and the captive Sikorsky reached the 17th
Floor. This was where the explosion had occurred earlier. The banquet hall was a
ruin of scorched tables and black ash, the air still heavy with the sharp tang
of gunpowder.
"Phew!"
Gaia put his hands on his hips, looking at the pulverized ceiling. "Oliva-san
punched through the 18th and 19th floors. No one's going to be hiding up there."
"The terrorists are neutralized. The mission is officially a success. We can
call for extraction."
Ren also put his hands on his hips. "So... this building is no longer a
'Warzone'? It's just a damaged hotel?"
Gaia's eyes narrowed into a smile. "You could put it that way."
The two continued to chat, walking leisurely toward the center of the vast,
hollowed-out hall. Seeing this, the rest of the group froze. They all shared a
sudden, sinking feeling.
Ren rubbed his chin, looking around the debris. "A ruined hotel building...
technically, that's just another part of the 'Street', right?"
"Indeed," Gaia grinned, his aura beginning to shift. "And it's a particularly
dangerous kind of street. No rules. No discipline. No common sense. And most
importantly... no distinction between 'Ally' and 'Enemy.' It's scarier than a
crime scene!"
They stood side-by-side, their expressions deceptively relaxed. A cool night
wind whistled through the shattered windows.
"If it's not a warzone anymore, that makes things much easier," Ren said, a
predatory smirk playing on his lips. "Since there's no distinction between
friends and foes, and the smell of gunpowder is so invigorating... how about a
spar?"
Gaia looked troubled for a heartbeat. "But how would we decide the winner?"
"I want to find the answer to 'What is Strength'," Ren replied, his arms hanging
loose, fingers splayed and relaxed. "So... let's just figure out the
win-conditions while we hit each other."
"Sounds fair."
Gaia's lips curled upward. He was no longer Nomura; he was the God of War, and
he couldn't hold it back any longer. "No time. No place. No regulation. Just...
Combat."
The spectators in the corner—aside from the exhausted Ohma and the broken
Sikorsky—all performed a synchronized face-palm. Slap!
The MPD units outside, the Kure Clan at the monitors, Arisa and Nozomi—they all
shared the same thought: We really can't do anything with these two!
Now that the "Counter-Terrorism" was over, the two had returned to the "Street,"
and they couldn't resist the urge to trade souls.
Ren Shiroki vs. Gaia! [SOUL COMBAT] vs. [THE DEITY OF THE EARTH]!!
"Mm—!"
Gaia's face suddenly contorted into a mask of malice. He bit down on something
hidden in his mouth and suddenly turned his head toward Ren.
PTOOIE!
A projectile whistled through the air!
(End of Chapter)
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