Chapter 259: Pre-Holiday Preparations
Kazuo Yamashita: "..."
Kazuo Yamashita: "..."
Kazuo Yamashita: "Hahaha!"
A burst of reckless, desperate laughter erupted from the fifty-six-year-old
salaryman. He marched into the Soul Combat Hub, snatched a towel from his gym
bag, and draped it heroically over his shoulders.
"I'm here to sweat out my stress today! Bring it on!"
Having finally surrendered to his fate, Kazuo's confidence surged. He tightened
his scrawny fists and grinned at Ren Shiroki.
"Don't let this suit fool you, Shiroki-san! I used to practice Judo back in the
day! Though I never won a medal, my classmates used to call me 'Hard-Working
Kazu-kun'—"
"Nice. That's perfect!"
Ren handed Kazuo a one-day guest pass and welcomed him with open arms.
The moment Kazuo stepped into the main three-story training hall, he was hit by
a tidal wave of hyper-masculine energy.
In one corner, Dr. Kureha Shinogi was positioned on a leg-press machine. The
weight sleeves were stacked to the brim with 25kg plates, the metal groaning as
the "Super-Physique" performed reps with a total load exceeding 500kg.
Near the heavy bags, the "God of War" Gaolang Wongsawat was conducting a
striking drill. The thud-thud-thud of his fists and feet was a rapid-fire blur,
the speed increasing with every breath.
In the center of the room, Marco and Lihito were performing the "Standing Post"
(Zhan Zhuang). Both stood in a perfectly motionless half-crouch facing the
mirror, sweat pouring off them in such volume that small puddles had formed on
the mats beneath their feet. Both were eager to refine their technical depth and
had recently sought guidance from Retsu Kaioh, whose instruction had been
characteristically strict and effective.
Clap!
Ren slapped a nearby dumbbell rack and looked at Kazuo. "Fixed-weight machines?
Shadow-boxing? Static endurance? Or do you want to join me for some heavy
dumbbell work? Your choice, Yamashita-san!"
Kazuo stood there, already drenched in a cold sweat before even lifting a
finger. "Um... well..."
Before he could choose, Dr. Kureha finished his set of leg presses. During his
rest interval, he strolled over.
As a world-renowned physician and the ultimate expert on human biology, Kureha
needed only a single glance to diagnose the "Salaryman Syndrome" plaguing Kazuo.
Prolonged sitting, chronic lower back pain, malnutrition, premature graying,
blurred vision, cervical tension—the list was endless.
Kureha's professional instincts flared. He effectively commandeered Kazuo from
Ren, immediately beginning a full medical evaluation to draft a customized
training and dietary regimen.
It wouldn't be until weeks later, after a conversation with Kaede Akiyama, that
Kazuo would realize exactly how many millions of yen a "Personal Program by
Kureha Shinogi" was actually worth.
For now, however, Kazuo only knew that he was about to face a warm-up that
pushed him to the absolute brink of physiological collapse.
"Hah... Phew... Hah..."
By the time Kazuo finished the circuit, he was a trembling, gasping wreck. He
rested for several long minutes until his motor functions returned.
Terrified that Ren or Kureha would drag him into a second set, he quickly
volunteered for "Logistic Duty." He grabbed a crate of water bottles to deliver
to the "Women's Section" in the outdoor courtyard.
Kazuo figured that the girls' training would be much more "refreshing" and
peaceful compared to the meat-grinder inside.
He hauled the crate out the door and toward the outdoor ring.
The next second—WHOOSH!
A figure was launched through the air, whistling past Kazuo's head.
BOOM!
The person slammed into the courtyard wall, the impact creating yet another
fresh set of cracks in the masonry.
Kazuo turned his head. He first saw a massive, high-density striking pad. The
front of the pad was shredded, featuring a deep, singular fist-print in the
center.
Behind the pad was Fusui Kure.
The veins around the girl's eyes were bulging, her [REMOVAL] active at 28%. She
gritted her teeth, prying herself out of the indentation in the wall.
THUD!
Fusui slammed the pad onto the ground like a tactical riot shield. She wore a
savage, bloodthirsty grin, her black-and-white eyes fixed on the girl across
from her.
Standing at the other end of the yard was the pink-haired girl with stars in her
eyes—Hina "The Revolutionary Princess" Hongo.
"Fusui-nee! You okay?" Hina asked with a cheerful smile. She looked slightly
concerned, but her aura was radiating pure, manic excitement. "Sorry! It's rare
for someone to tell me I can hit them with 100% power! Should I dial it back for
the next one?"
"..."
There was no way Fusui could let that slide. Though she wasn't a close-quarters
specialist like the rest of the Clan, her Kure pride was absolute. She wasn't
about to be out-toughed by a high-schooler.
"You've got a hell of a kick, Hina-chan!" The short-haired girl squinted,
spitting a bit of dust. She hoisted the heavy pad back into position and bared
her teeth. "Don't you dare hold back! Let Big Sister show you what 'Endurance'
really looks like!"
BANG! BOOM! CRACK!
A relentless barrage of strikes followed. The sound of impacts echoed through
the neighborhood as bits of leather and foam padding flew into the air like
confetti.
Kazuo Yamashita watched with his jaw on the floor.
Mm... maybe the men's section is safer after all.
He set down the water and turned to flee, nearly bumping into Nozomi Tenma. The
Valkyrie CEO was dressed in sleek athletic gear, having just finished a
high-intensity session on the treadmill. She was drenched in sweat, her muscles
looking more defined than ever.
Now THIS is a normal training scene... Kazuo thought.
Then a massive BOOM from behind him nearly made him jump out of his skin. He
scrambled back into the building to hide behind the leg-press machine.
Kazuo finished his workout that day feeling spiritually refreshed but physically
pulverized.
That evening, he went to visit Ohma Tokita at his temporary residence—a derelict
mansion on the outskirts of the city. Ohma had just returned from a "grocery
run." His prey was a massive wild boar.
The beast was large enough to kill an armed hunter, yet Ohma had captured it
bare-handed and had already dressed it, leaving only the severed head on the
porch.
Ordinarily, Kazuo would have been terrified. But after surviving a day at the SC
Center, he found he had no fear left. He even felt a bit hungry, asking Ohma if
he could try a piece of the roasted boar rib.
"Whoa! This is delicious, Ohma-san!" "Hmph. You've grown some guts, Yamashita
Kazuo."
The Next Day.
The Kure Village Summer Festival was only a few days away. Located in a rural
town outside Tokyo, it promised a flavor entirely different from the
city—traditional, wild, and incredibly dangerous.
Ren had accepted Fusui's invitation to attend. Since the decision was made, the
Shiroki household was buzzing with anticipation.
Early morning.
Fusui pulled up in her black sports car. She and Ren had agreed to head to a
major commercial district to stock up on travel essentials, fresh clothes, and
souvenirs for the friends they'd meet at the Kure main house.
Arisa and Marco, having nothing better to do, cheered and piled into the back
seat.
The Hub was left under the supervision of the "Temporary Manager," Chiharu
Shiba. Given the Bozosoku leader's legendary loyalty, Ren wasn't worried at all.
Commercial District.
Fusui parked the car. Since the two pairs had different goals—Ren and Fusui for
gear, Arisa and Marco for snacks and sightseeing—they agreed to split up and
sync via phone later.
With the mid-summer sales in full swing, the district was a sea of people and
vibrant decorations. It was the perfect atmosphere for a day out.
However, Ren could tell that Fusui had a specific objective in mind. Her eyes
were darting around as if she were scouting a sniper nest.
Ren crossed his arms. "Alright, spill. What are we looking for?"
"I knew I couldn't hide it from you, Ren-chin!"
Fusui snapped her fingers and pulled a flyer from her pocket. It was for a
"Summer Limited Event" taking place that afternoon in the central plaza.
It was a doubles/couples contest involving a series of interactive games and
physical challenges. The grand prize? Two pairs of limited-edition, designer
tactical sunglasses.
Ren looked at the flyer, then at Fusui's eager expression. He smirked.
"Nice. That's perfect!"
(End of Chapter)
☆☆☆
-> 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