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Chapter 276 - Chapter 276: The Same Combat

Chapter 276: The Same Combat

The gymnasium was a massive warehouse conversion.

It looked rough and industrial, but it was a fighter's paradise. It was fully

equipped with everything from a regulation boxing ring to high-density mats for

ground-work. It even featured industrial showers and locker rooms. Ordinarily,

this was one of the Kure Clan's primary training facilities.

With the Summer Festival approaching, the local administrator had a mountain of

logistics to handle, so the facility had been temporarily closed to the

public—to be reopened only after the final fireworks.

The members of the MPD Judo Division, having been displaced from the Central

Plaza ring, were moved here for their intensive training camp. However, they

hadn't expected another "Group" to be assigned to the same venue. Because the

facility was so vast, the oversight had gone unnoticed until both parties were

already inside.

In terms of numbers, neither side was large enough to physically crowd the

other, so sharing the space shouldn't have been an issue. But unfortunately,

neither of these groups were casual gym-goers. They were practitioners of

high-stakes, competitive combat, and both sides were packed with massive,

prideful athletes.

On one side: the Metropolitan Police Department Judo Division, featuring several

Olympic-tier judoka. Having witnessed the "Masterclass" between Shibukawa and

Ren that morning, their spirits were red-lining. They had doubled their training

volume out of pure inspiration.

On the other side: Super Japan Pro-Wrestling (SJPW), a massive organization that

handled everything from hardcore deathmatches to traditional "King's Road"

wrestling. Their roster was a stable of celebrity athletes. They were currently

preparing for a nationwide tour, and because their owner was close with a local

Kure merchant, they had chosen Kure Village for their pre-tour camp.

Both sides were fiercely proud of their respective domains.

This pride, naturally, led to friction. Within minutes of meeting, the air was

thick with the scent of trash-talk and ego. While it hadn't come to blows yet,

the mockery was relentless.

"Go back to writing your scripts, you Pro-Wrestling actors!"

"Don't you have a job to do in the middle of the day? Taking a holiday while the

taxpayers pay for your protein? Tax thieves~!"

The veterans remained relatively stoic, but the younger recruits were struggling

to hold back.

"Hey! You want to settle this with a squat challenge?!"

"Why don't we just practice some pins? Don't worry, we'll try not to hurt you

'athletes' too much—"

As the bickering reached a crescendo, a tiny, withered old man suddenly popped

up between the groups. He arched an eyebrow and fanned the flames with a

mischievous grin.

"Oho? If I recall... both Judo and Pro-Wrestling rely on pinning the opponent to

judge a victory, right?"

The Judo officers, not noticing the legend in their midst, answered

distractedly, "In Judo, the back must touch the mat with force and control! It's

much stricter than the 'Three-Count' of those actors!"

Ren Shiroki stepped forward with a grin, looking at the hulking wrestlers.

"Wrestling gear is so free and colorful, isn't it? Judo is so... restrictive.

You have to wear the gi."

"Exactly!" a massive wrestler roared back. "Those guys can only function if they

have a collar to grab! Boring as hell!"

Fusui Kure found the escalating drama hilarious. She scooted closer to Ren, her

black-and-white eyes crinkling. "Pro-wrestling is magnificent showmanship. My

family actually has quite a few fans."

The Judo team immediately bristled. "You see that big guy over there? That's

Tawara! He's won more regional and national titles than your entire squad

combined!"

"Tch. Celebrity status? We've got that in spades!" A wrestler gestured toward

one of his teammates. "Ever heard of 'El Ninja'? Real name Jose Kanzaki. He's a

viral sensation on social media right now!"

"Hahaha!"

Ren laughed, rubbing Fusui's head. The girl stuck her tongue out playfully while

Shibukawa burst into another fit of high-pitched giggles.

Just then, a middle-aged man approached the trio. He was dressed in a simple

shirt and shorts and looked to be in his late forties or fifties. He was built

like a fortress, his muscles popping in well-defined slabs, and he possessed the

tell-tale "cauliflower ears" of a lifetime grappler.

He stood 184cm and weighed at least 105kg. He wore a neat handlebar mustache and

kept his hair in a perfectly groomed 70/30 part that shone under the gym lights.

"Celebrity status?" the man boomed with a jovial smirk. "When Sekibayashi shared

his curry-making video last week, he got double the likes of Jose's latest match

highlights!"

This comment was the match that finally set the powder keg off. The tension

between the two groups peaked. But after a few seconds of boiling silence, both

sides paused. They looked at the "instigators" and realized they were being

played.

The wrestlers recognized the last speaker's voice instantly. He was a legendary

"Senior" of the pro-wrestling world, nicknamed the "God of Pro-Wrestling"—Kugo

Kurachi!

Kurachi laughed as he noticed the bewildered stares of the three newcomers—the

youth, the girl, and the old man. The group shared a synchronized, mischievous

grin.

The atmosphere was incredibly nuanced. Fortunately, a mature professional—Mitsuo

Sonoda—stepped in to settle the dispute. Using his authority as a Special

Official of the MPD, he told the Judo division to shut up and get back to work.

"Move it! These gentlemen were here first for a sanctioned camp. We are guests

here for routine practice. Do not disturb their flow."

"YES, SIR!"

The Judo officers scattered back to their mats. The wrestlers stopped their

shouting. The fire of the argument vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

The SJPW wrestlers looked at Kurachi and sighed. "Senior... you really love

causing chaos, don't you?"

"Haha! A little heat is good for the muscles!"

Kurachi laughed and sent his own men back to their drills. He then met with

Sonoda. As the respective heads of their groups, they exchanged formal apologies

and a firm handshake of reconciliation.

With the group business handled, it was time for the personal introductions.

"Wait—!?"

Kurachi's head snapped toward the old man. He stepped forward to offer a

respectful handshake. "Master Shibukawa! I've heard the legends for years!

You're looking incredibly vibrant!"

Shibukawa laughed heartily, reciprocating the enthusiasm. After Kurachi

introduced himself to the group and exchanged a nod with Fusui, his gaze settled

on Ren Shiroki. His smile widened.

"Ren-kun. A pleasure to finally meet you."

Kurachi extended his hand. "I'm an old friend of Mitsuyo Kureishi. Years ago, he

and I were both in the same bracket for the Rokushin Kaikan open tournament."

Ren's mind hummed as the file on Kugo Kurachi surfaced. This man possessed a

level of love and confidence in Pro-Wrestling that bordered on religious zeal.

He believed that Pro-Wrestling lacked "Defense" because a true wrestler should

tank every strike his opponent offers—even against high-level strikers.

That singular, unyielding philosophy had deeply influenced his top student:

"Hell's Angel" Jun Sekibayashi. In both the wrestling world and the Kengan

matches, Sekibayashi was a titan.

Record: 57 wins.

Ren looked around the gym but didn't see the famous face of Sekibayashi.

"Looking for our ace?" Kurachi guessed with a wink. "Jun is at the local

supermarket stocking up on supplies. Fighting a training camp on an empty

stomach is impossible!"

Ren nodded.

Kurachi then remembered something. "Oh! There's someone else you should meet.

He's a friend of Kureishi's as well. He recently transferred his affiliation

to us."

Kurachi turned and shouted toward the squats rack. "Jose! Come say hi to some

friends!"

A short distance away, a tall wrestler with long hair stopped his set of squats.

He looked up, spotting Ren. He wore a professional wrestling mask that covered

the upper half of his face, but his jawline looked young—likely mid-twenties. He

stood 178cm and carried at least 115kg of solid, functional mass.

"Yo," Jose Kanzaki called out. "Kureishi-senpai mentioned you. Let's talk after

the session. I don't want my muscles to cool down."

Jose went back to his Indian squats. The rest of the wrestlers were similarly

focused, the gymnasium vibrating with the sound of their collective exertion.

Watching the scene, Shibukawa suddenly had a thought.

He turned to Ren and smiled. "Ren-kun. During lunch, you told me you couldn't

help but practice every style you saw, but you didn't expect to ever be a

'Grandmaster' of a single one. Right?"

Ren nodded.

Shibukawa squinted. "When you face a punch, the response of a Karateka and a

Muay Thai master looks completely different. But at its core... the Combat

Essence is identical."

"Take our match this morning. You wanted to hit me. You used the 'Lag' of my

rising palm to move faster than my recovery. That's how you managed to seize my

head."

"That tactical approach—that Combat Logic—will never change. Whether you are

using Muay Thai, Karate, Wrestling, or CQC... you will always make that choice

because that is the soul of your fighting style."

"No matter which 'Tool' you pick up, you use it with the same mind."

"Perhaps... because you have so many elite masters, you have managed to perceive

the 'Core Truth' that exists across all styles much faster than a man who only

studies one."

Ren stood in a daze, processing the Master's words.

It was true. Moves like [SATSUI CHOICE] or [FRAME PUNISH] didn't belong to a

single martial art. They were universal concepts. Whether he was throwing a

punch, a knee, or a tackle, the logic of why and when he did it was the same.

What was he doing? It wasn't Karate. It wasn't Muay Thai. It wasn't MMA.

It was just... Ren Shiroki's Combat.

"Hahaha! Are you brooding, Ren-kun?"

Shibukawa's grin turned wide and mischievous. "Having Pro-Wrestlers here is a

stroke of luck. It provides the perfect answer to your dilemma."

The old man laughed, recalling a past memory. "Not long ago, I visited a

hospitalized wrestler. He told me something very important."

"In the world of Pro-Wrestling... Grandmasters do not exist."

"A philosophy very similar to yours, don't you think?"

(End of Chapter)

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