Chapter 275: I Don't Have to Think About It
Kure Village, despite its clandestine reputation, was home to world-class
artisans—including those who specialized in the delicate repair of tortoiseshell
frames.
Following Fusui Kure's recommendation, Gouki Shibukawa sent his broken glasses
off for repair. Finding himself with time to kill, the old man began pestering
Mitsuo Sonoda to fulfill his promise of a treat. Since Sonoda had agreed the
previous day but missed the chance due to the "King of the Hill" drama, he
couldn't very well refuse the Master now.
Thus, a group of four set out: Ren Shiroki, Fusui Kure, Gouki Shibukawa, and
Mitsuo Sonoda.
Fusui acted as the local guide, leading them to a highly-rated Wagyu BBQ spot.
Conveniently, a traditional liquor shop sat right next door, allowing Shibukawa
to indulge in a few cups of high-grade sake. Despite his age, the Master's
appetite was legendary.
"Mm!"
Ren swallowed a massive piece of grilled short-rib, savoring the richness.
Seeing this, Shibukawa squinted and laughed. "Hahaha! You just took a beating
from the earth itself, yet you're eating like a hungry wolf! You certainly have
spirit, Ren-kun!"
In contrast to their high energy, however, the table next to them seemed to be
in the middle of a funeral.
Ren recognized them immediately—Arisa's classmates from Koyo Girls' Academy. The
three "Gym Girls"—Hibiki Sakura, Akemi, and Ayaka—were slumped over their
plates, looking like they had aged twenty years overnight.
The fitness-obsessed trio had tried to maintain their training regimen even
while on vacation. However, they had underestimated Kure Village. As the
heartland of the Kure Clan, the local gyms were "Underworld Grade"—brutal,
high-intensity facilities with zero beginner equipment.
Desperate, the girls had called their regular coach at the Silverman Gym for
remote guidance. But with their coach's frantic encouragement and the "hardcore"
atmosphere of the village gym, the girls had pushed themselves into a state of
total physical collapse, completely forgetting their sightseeing plans for the
next day.
They had slept until noon and crawled out of bed feeling like their muscles were
made of lead. They had settled on the only part of their itinerary they could
physically manage:
Eating.
"It hurts... everything hurts..." Hibiki wailed.
"That pain is the sound of your muscles growing, Hibiki!" Akemi countered,
though her own voice was weak.
"Akemi, why aren't you dying like us?!"
"It is the power of my Love for Muscle~!"
"I should have never trained with that black-eyed uncle at the boxing gym,"
Ayaka groaned. "His 'low intensity' is a pro-fighter's nightmare..."
"Ayaka seems to be holding up better than me..."
The girls continued their chorus of complaints until they noticed Ren Shiroki at
the next table.
"Ah! Arisa's big brother?"
The blonde girl, Hibiki, managed a weak wave. Akemi, the hardcore muscle-maniac,
caught sight of Ren and Fusui's physiques and felt her exhaustion evaporate,
replaced by a surge of pure aesthetic appreciation.
Ayaka, whose sister's gym hosted the Thai "God of War," found a common topic. "I
heard Gaolang-chan is vacationing in Tokyo. How is he? I haven't seen him in
ages!"
The two tables merged into one. Since they were all just killing time, the group
had a rowdy, communal lunch.
Shibukawa, a Grandmaster of Aiki-Jujutsu with a background in Judo, knew more
about muscle recovery than any modern therapist. He used Sonoda as a live demo
model, showing the girls specific acupressure points and massage techniques to
alleviate their soreness.
"Thanks, Gramps!"
"Hahaha! I used to push myself just as hard back in the day. To be young is a
blessing!"
Kure Village was a unique ecosystem. With ten percent of the population being
part of the Kure Clan, social boundaries were thin.
While they were eating, a shout erupted from the other side of the restaurant. A
burly Kure man hoisted a mug of beer, laughing boisterously. "Everyone! Drinks
on me! My contract just cleared, and the client paid in full! Drink up!"
"HELL YEAH!" "You're the man!" "Don't just give us beer, send over some
appetizers too!"
The residents of the village were used to this atmosphere. No one felt it was an
intrusion; they simply joined in the celebration. It felt like one massive,
slightly dangerous family reunion. Ren and the others soaked in the vibe.
"Phew!"
Ren took a sip of fruit wine. Suddenly, the ink-wash lines in his vision began
to swirl. A rhythmic, pulsing beat echoed in his mind, just like the one from
the previous night.
BOOM! CLAP-BOOM-CLAP!
It wasn't the sound of an instrument. It was a rhythmic tapping against the
environment, yet it carried an infectious, upbeat energy.
The ink swirled and changed color, shifting from monochrome to vibrant, dancing
hues. A powerfully built male silhouette coalesced. He wore an open, brightly
colored short-sleeved shirt, loose-fitting trousers, and casual sandals. He
moved with a restless, unpredictable flow, appearing unable to stand still for
even a second.
Ren's eyes tracked the figure, but he couldn't keep up with the phantom's
erratic displacement. It was as if the silhouette was intentionally staying in
his peripheral vision.
Ren soon realized why. The phantom wanted to bask in the festival atmosphere,
but he didn't want Ren to get distracted and miss the reality of the moment.
[Ah... even when wandering for strength, you can't miss the show, Buddy!]
The phantom sat on an empty windowsill, his hands drumming a beat against the
wood that matched the rhythm of the birthday celebration. Seeing Ren give up the
chase, the phantom stopped hiding and leaned back, baring a row of gleaming
white teeth.
[Yo, Buddy! Let's talk real for a second—]
[Life isn't as long as people like to think.]
[That's why whenever we meet, we sing. We dance. We fight!]
[Total enjoyment... that is what it means to 'Live in the Moment'!]
[I like my solo introspection, sure, but you can't ignore a 'Happy Rhythm' when
it hits you! Heh-heh!]
Ren nodded to himself. "Yeah... life isn't as long as we think..."
Shibukawa overheard the murmur. The little old man's face scrunched up into a
pout. "What was that? My life is going to be plenty long, thank you very much!"
"Ah—"
Ren turned red, realizing his mistake. The table—and the phantoms—erupted in
laughter.
After lunch, the group found a shaded area to rest and digest. Once a senior
citizen stops moving, the stories start flowing.
Shibukawa recalled the morning's "game" with Ren. He leaned in with a faint
smile, murmuring in a nostalgic tone, "Muay Thai, Karate, Wrestling, MMA, CQC...
and even some trendy parkour footwork? You've got a hell of a collection,
Ren-kun."
Ren sat on a wooden bench, smiling back. "I've had a lot of good teachers."
Shibukawa's tone shifted. "Ha! To have so many masters... can your soul even
keep up with all those instructions?"
Ren had anticipated the question. "A similar concern was raised by Retsu Kaioh."
"Retsu?" Shibukawa looked surprised, then nodded. "Ah, I see. If it's the Great
Retsu Kaioh, he certainly wouldn't be able to resist lecturing you on 'The One
Path'."
Ren nodded. "Sensei, do you wish for me to become a Grandmaster? To found a
legacy?"
Shibukawa was stumped for a moment. He struggled to find an answer.
Ren shook his head. "I don't think I have it in me. And honestly... I have no
interest in it."
Shibukawa blinked. "Hm. Then what drives this training of yours? Is it a
'Desire' that won't stop growing?"
"Maybe?"
Ren rubbed his chin, trying to find the words. "The strength of a single
punch... the different strength of a kick... the rush of a grapple..."
"I want to know 'What is Strength'. I study because I'm afraid. I'm afraid that
when the 'Answer' finally arrives, I won't have the eyes to see it or the skill
to comprehend its beauty."
"If the answer is laid out before me and I'm too weak to recognize it... that
would be the ultimate tragedy!"
Ren's lips pulled back into a wide grin.
"Is my path the 'Right' one? Or will I end up as a master of nothing?"
"—I don't have to think about it. Because that's a problem only a Grandmaster
has to worry about!"
Shibukawa stared. He opened his mouth to argue, but the words died in his
throat. He had never met a fighter with such a high-level, yet blissfully
irresponsible, philosophy.
To possess the skill of a master yet retain the curiosity of a child... what a
freak.
That Afternoon.
As the group continued their walk, Sonoda felt a weight lift from his shoulders.
With Shibukawa having abandoned the "Ring Ownership," the political tension had
evaporated. He could finally stop worrying about the friction between the MPD
and the Kure Clan and just enjoy a paid vacation.
Or so he thought.
With Fusui as their guide, the group went on a shopping spree. Even Shibukawa
picked up several local souvenirs for his friends in Tokyo. They were all
burdened with shopping bags, having a grand time.
Sonoda suggested, "We can drop these off at the Judo Division's training site.
We can have the transport van take them back to Tokyo for us. It'll make the
rest of the day easier."
The MPD Judo team had originally been training at the octagonal ring in the
plaza when Shibukawa held the hill. But since the ring had changed hands, they
had moved to a local indoor gymnasium to avoid any "diplomatic incidents."
"It's better this way," Sonoda laughed, looking relaxed. "The boys can get some
focused training in while Sensei is here to supervise."
The group reached the gymnasium. But the moment they pushed open the double
doors, they weren't met with the silent focus of a Judo session. Instead, the
hall was filled with the sound of shouting and mockery.
A heated argument was taking place between two distinct groups regarding the use
of the training mats.
"Hey! You MPD guys! Why the hell are you taking up the equipment zone?!"
"Hah?! You pro-wrestling 'Actors' better stay on your own side! This is a
designated police training session!"
Judo vs. Pro-Wrestling?
Ren Shiroki and Gouki Shibukawa shared a look. Their eyes simultaneously lit up
with predatory glee.
"Hah... hahaha! What a rare treat!"
"Let's go, Ren-kun! I want to see the show!"
The old and the young charged into the gymnasium side-by-side, their excitement
red-lining.
Sonoda stood at the entrance, his hand coming up to slap his own forehead with a
loud SMACK.
Hiss—
I take it back. My head hurts again!
(End of Chapter)
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