Chapter 282: Envy
Ren Shiroki, Fusui Kure, Gouki Shibukawa, and Mitsuo Sonoda returned to the
Patriarch's estate for a simple dinner.
As night deepened, the streets of Kure Village grew even more boisterous. Ren
and Fusui decided to head out again to wander through the stalls, while in the
estate's private tea room, the seniors gathered.
Shibukawa was sharing tea with Erio Kure, with Sonoda and a young Kure maid
attending to them.
"..."
Shibukawa recounted the day's events.
Erio Kure let out a helpless, raspy snort. "The ring in the morning, BBQ at
noon, and Pro-Wrestling in the afternoon? You aren't afraid of those old bones
of yours rattling apart, Gouki?"
Shibukawa let out a high-pitched cackle. "Hahaha! Not a chance!"
Erio took a sip of hot tea, sighing with a touch of nostalgia. "Even at our age,
that hunger for battle never truly dies, does it?"
Shibukawa's eyes glinted behind his glasses. "You're nearly twenty years my
senior, old man, and you look like you're ready to jump into a warzone every
time your phone pings. Pot calling the kettle black, isn't it?"
Erio waved a dismissive hand. "No, no. Physically speaking, I'm long past my
prime."
"..."
The two legends, despite the age gap, traded barbs and stories with easy
familiarity. The young Kure maid, watching them, whispered in admiration, "It is
truly a rare sight to see two Grandmasters from both the surface and the
underworld conversing like this."
Erio gave a faint, cold smile. "There is no need for surprise. In terms of
'Combat', Gouki and I are of the exact same kind."
The maid looked confused. "But Patriarch, you are the shadow of the underworld,
and Shibukawa-sensei is the publicly recognized 'Saint of War'..."
"Indeed," Sonoda chimed in. "Martial arts are a social sport. Karate, Judo,
Aikido... they are respected as a 'Way' (Do)."
Shibukawa blinked and bared his teeth in a grin.
Erio chuckled. "This Gouki Shibukawa... do you really think he's ever let the
word 'Way' cross his lips in a serious manner?"
"—?!"
Sonoda froze. The maid looked stunned. Both were silenced by the implication.
Erio and Shibukawa continued their chat, eventually drifting to the topic of the
Kengan Association and why fighters chose to seek the peak.
Shibukawa crossed his arms. "Erio-dono... why do you think humans seek to become
powerful?"
Erio stared at the steam rising from his cup. "Desire. Ego. Loyalty. Family.
Survival. Or perhaps... simply for the sake of the 'Battle' itself. There are
many flavors of hunger."
Shibukawa added, "Regardless of the reason, we are all chasing our own personal
definition of Strength."
Erio caught the subtext in the Master's voice. "But there is an exception?"
"Yes."
Shibukawa held his tea cup, drifting into a memory. "A man who isn't chasing
'Strength,' but rather possesses a much more... shallow kind of curiosity. A
curiosity for 'What' strength is."
"He doesn't even know what Strength looks like, so he is constantly fascinated
by it. To find the answer to an unsolved riddle, one cannot pre-judge the
result. Otherwise, you never reach the truth."
Shibukawa took a slow sip of tea.
"'What is Strength?'"
"A person who can immerse themselves in that question... for whom every step,
every rest, every game is part of a grand 'Journey'... just imagine the level of
joy they feel every day."
"Honestly... I'm a little envious of him."
Shibukawa let out a soft, low sigh of admiration. Erio Kure nodded slowly, a
small smile appearing on his withered face.
Only then did Mitsuo Sonoda realize exactly who the two titans were talking
about.
Ren Shiroki.
Kure Village, Commercial District.
Ren and Fusui were strolling through the festive streets. They stopped
occasionally to look at the stalls, and at some point, their hands had found
each other, swinging rhythmically as they walked.
The girl's eyes crinkled behind her goggles. "The custom Yukata arrived at the
house today. Yours is there too. We'll wear them on the night of the fireworks."
"Nice! That's perfect!" Ren grinned.
Pulled along by the girl, they wove through the crowds, buying small charms and
late-night snacks. Because of her constant training with firearms, Fusui's hands
were calloused, yet they felt supple and strong, possessing a unique elasticity
that was different from the rock-hard hands of a striker.
They chatted and joked, occasionally bursting into laughter over a particularly
stupid-looking stuffed animal.
Ah... this feels great, Ren thought from the bottom of his heart.
Because the atmosphere was so perfect, he felt an intense desire to protect it.
He didn't want any "noise" or "malice" to spoil the moment.
Absolutely not.
However... while he didn't want trouble to happen, he knew that if it did...
Neither he nor Fusui would be able to resist the urge to turn it into a game.
They were predators, after all.
Zip!
Two middle-aged men walked briskly past Ren's shoulder, their shoulders nearly
brushing his.
The gap was only inches, but that was more than enough. From their breathing
patterns, their center of mass, the weight of their footsteps, and the predatory
stillness in their eyes, Ren and Fusui made an instantaneous judgment:
Ah... Malice.
A normal, law-abiding citizen didn't carry themselves like that. These two were
clearly armed. They could be IDEAL stragglers who had evaded the hotel
perimeter, or just local thugs looking to score during the festival.
Regardless of their origin, this tiny drop of "Malice" was now part of their
date. And they weren't about to miss out on the fun.
Ren squeezed Fusui's hand, spinning the girl in a half-circle on the spot.
Zip!
They pivoted 180 degrees and began tailing the two men. They maintained a
"dangerous" distance—close enough to strike, yet far enough to be ignored by a
casual observer. They made no effort to hide.
This was Kure Village. Malice this obvious was like a flare in the dark. If they
didn't act now, a Kure patrol would likely handle it in minutes. They had to get
there first.
"..."
They were still in the commercial district, but this specific stretch of road
was momentarily empty of pedestrians.
Ren took three quick, light steps. He slammed a massive palm onto the shoulder
of one of the men. As the man spun around with a snarl, Ren offered a cheerful
smile and pointed toward the man's waist.
The man realized instantly that his cover was blown. Ren had spotted the knife
tucked into his belt.
Without a heartbeat of hesitation—SHINK!
The man seized Ren's wrist with his left hand while his right hand drew a short,
sharp blade from his waistband. He lunged, aiming for Ren's stomach.
Ren didn't pull back. He didn't block. He used the man's grip on his wrist as a
pivot, leaning his torso away while his right leg snapped forward in a
lightning-fast low scan.
[SAGAT'S LOW SCAN KICK]!
THUD!
The kick caught the man's ankle flush. His balance was deleted, his body
pitching sideways as his knife-thrust found only air.
Ren caught the man's wrist in a reverse-grip and yanked upward, launching his
arm into the sky before releasing it.
While the man was suspended and unable to dodge—[SAGAT'S TIGER OVERHEAD ELBOW]!
BANG!
The elbow descended like a guillotine. It slammed into the man's chest with a
sickening crack, shattering several ribs and driving him into the pavement.
CRUNCH!
The man hit the floor and went limp, the shock to his system rendering him
instantly unconscious.
Seeing his partner fall, the second man pulled a tactical dagger. He looked
around frantically for a hostage to secure his escape.
Ren puffed out his cheeks. Pfft!
He sprayed a mouthful of his iced drink directly into the man's face. It wasn't
the high-pressure sulfuric acid Gaia used, but at point-blank range, it was more
than enough to startle the target.
The man flinched, his eyes blinking.
Ren was already there. He hopped forward, twisting his body to launch a vertical
kick aimed at the man's weapon-hand.
[RYU'S HIGH FOOT-BLADE KICK]!
CLACK!
The dagger was kicked clean out of the man's grip.
Ren stepped in. A light jab to the chest broke two more ribs, followed by a
lead-leg snap-kick to adjust the man's posture. He finished the sequence with a
full-power driving stomp.
[RYU'S TRIPLE IMPACT]!
Slap-slap-BOOM!
The final heavy stomp caught the man flush on the jaw. The sound of splintering
bone was sharp and acidic.
"Gah!"
The man let out a ragged cry before being launched backward. He hit the asphalt
and didn't move again.
Ren touched down and reset his posture. He turned to Fusui and raised a hand.
The girl, who had been watching with a grin, raised her own hand.
CLAP!
A perfect high-five.
Yep. Fast, clean, and efficient!
This was Kure Village; someone would be here to collect the trash in minutes.
Interrogations and reports would follow. If they wanted to keep their "date"
alive and avoid the boredom of a police report, they had to move.
"..."
Ren grabbed the girl's hand.
Then, struck by a sudden whim, he leaned forward. He scooped one arm behind her
back and the other under her knees, hoisting her into a bridal carry.
He took off at a dead sprint, his silhouette vanishing around the corner of the
street.
Dim Alleyway.
Ren set Fusui down. He looked into her black-and-white eyes, and after a
heartbeat of silence, both of them burst into a fit of laughter.
"Hahahaha!"
They rested for a moment, catching their breath. Just as they were about to head
back to the main stalls, they heard the sound of sobbing and cursing coming from
the shadows at the end of the alley.
A massive, hulking shape was visible in the gloom.
It was the Kengan fighter—"The God of Destruction," Haruo Kono.
(End of Chapter)
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