Chapter 283: The Loser with Nowhere to Go
Kengan matches, compared to the "Tokyo Dome Underground Arena," were often
saturated with corporate agendas. To entrust one's ultimate wish to a fighter's
fist—that was the meaning of Kengan.
Consequently, since the opening of the Kengan Annihilation Street Brawl, a
strange yet logical phenomenon had emerged. While private duels in the
underground world had spiked, official Kengan matches had actually decreased.
Since each member only had one "life" in the Street Brawl, most Kengan chairmen
were being incredibly cautious, weighing every match with extreme scrutiny.
There were, of course, exceptions.
There were the free-spirited wanderers like Ren Shiroki and Lihito. There were
employers who viewed themselves as friends and simply wanted their fighters to
evolve through experience. And then there were the businessmen—men who were so
confident in their fighters' strength that they saw the chaos as a chance to
secure massive leverage or form dark alliances.
Akio Kono, the President of the top-ranked gaming company NENTEN, was firmly in
the third category.
He had entered into a strategic alliance with the most ambitious hawk in the
Kengan Association—Katsumasa Hayami, Chairman of Toyo Electric. As an ally of
the Hayami faction, Akio was tasked with a specific mission.
According to his intel, "The Executioner" Seishu Akoya had temporarily retired
from Kengan matches after his humiliating loss to Ren Shiroki. Furthermore, the
MPD's secret strike force, the Missou-ka, was undergoing internal restructuring
and couldn't deploy its top specialists.
Sensing a weak point in the police department, Hayami had dispatched Akio Kono
to test their defenses. Confident in his "God of Destruction," Akio had issued a
formal Kengan challenge to the MPD.
The opponent hadn't been the Executioner. The opponent had been a Saint.
Before that tiny old man whom one couldn't find even with a searchlight, Haruo
Kono had been utterly dismantled. With his defeat, NENTEN was officially out of
the Street Brawl.
Being eliminated so early meant a catastrophic financial loss. The board of
directors would be calling for his head by morning. Furthermore, Akio had
bragged loudly to Hayami about Haruo's "unstoppable" power; the Chairman of Toyo
Electric was not a man who forgave failure.
"I'm a dead man... I'm completely finished!"
Akio Kono—the flat-headed President with the singular tuft of hair—felt his mind
spiraling into a panic. Every time he looked at the defeated Haruo, his rage
spiked to homicidal levels.
He had brought Haruo out of the Himalayas at an immense cost. He had spent a
fortune in manpower, logistics, and gourmet food to keep the giant satisfied,
and the "God" had rewarded him with a first-round exit.
"Get lost, you trash pig! I have no use for you anymore!"
After a day of agonizing over his plummeting stock prices, Akio delivered his
verdict. He abandoned Haruo in the street, intending to flee back to Tokyo
alone.
But Haruo, terrified of being discarded by the only "father" he knew, followed
him like a lost dog. The two of them had been arguing and shoving through the
streets until they finally reached a secluded side-alley.
Ren Shiroki and Fusui Kure watched from the shadows of a nearby building,
munching on their late-night snacks as they observed the domestic disaster.
"You worthless piece of garbage! You can't win a match, you're just a failure
who's good for nothing but video games! Don't let me see your face again! Go rot
in the mountains!"
Akio cursed and screamed, punctuating his insults with kicks and punches to
Haruo's massive frame.
Initially, Akio had been terrified of the giant; Haruo could have snapped his
neck with two fingers. But as he raged, Akio realized that Haruo had lost his
will to fight. His spirit was completely broken. No matter how many times Akio
struck him, Haruo didn't raise a hand in defense.
Feeling his own dark future closing in, Akio channeled all his terror into
cruelty.
"..."
Haruo didn't fight back. Tears and snot smeared across his massive, puffy face.
He wasn't stupid; he knew he had succumbed to his gluttony and sloth, but he had
lost the ability to control himself.
In the past, he could use "Victory" to numb the guilt. But Shibukawa had
stripped away the illusion, leaving only the pathetic reality of what he had
become. His self-confidence was a void.
He's right... Haruo thought, his heart sinking into a dark pit. I'm no longer
the strongest man in the Himalayas. I left my village with the blessings of my
people... and I became this. A trash pig. I am a burden to everyone. I can't go
back. No one needs a pig like me. What am I supposed to do...?
Akio Kono had fed Haruo for years, but his patience was dry.
"I wasted my Kengan slot on you! Hayami isn't going to let this go. I have to
find a way to disappear before his people find me!"
"I need to get out of Kure Village and back to Tokyo now! Where the hell is my
driver? DAMN YOU, TRASH PIG!"
As he screamed, Akio suddenly went quiet. His face drained of color, replaced by
a look of sheer terror.
Emerging from the darkness at the far end of the alley were two hulking men in
white suits. They moved with a slow, coordinated pace, their presence as heavy
as a funeral shroud.
Based on the uniform, they were part of Katsumasa Hayami's private militia—the
Guardians.
Every member of this shadow-army possessed the combat prowess of a professional
hitman. Their elite units were rumored to be on par with the Kure Clan's primary
combatants.
"P-President... they're here..." Akio stammered, backing away.
His driver and his personal bodyguards had likely been neutralized or diverted
long ago. He was alone.
Well, he was with a "Trash Pig"—but the giant currently curled on the floor was
useless.
The two Guardians approached, the neon lights of the commercial street casting
long, ominous shadows over their faces.
"President Kono. You wasted a precious resource and failed the Chairman's
expectations," the lead Guardian said, his voice cold and flat. "Chairman Hayami
wishes to have a word with you. In person."
The man drew a tactical dagger, gesturing toward Akio.
Then, his gaze flickered to the side, landing on the sobbing Haruo. He let out a
disgusted click of his tongue. "Discard the pig. He's dead weight."
He raised the blade to finish Haruo off, only to be interrupted by a casual
voice drifting from the mouth of the alley.
"Do you guys always wear white suits when you're planning a murder?" "Of course
not! They're clearly amateurs!" "White is such a pain to keep clean. Why wear it
for a street brawl?" "Maybe for the aesthetic? Or are they trying to pick a
fight with Old Man Metsudo's fashion sense?" "They're trying so hard to keep
their 'Persona' alive. It's almost cute~!"
Ren Shiroki and Fusui Kure stepped into the light, trading quips back and forth
without a care in the world.
The two Guardians froze.
We've been spotted? And is that... a Kure?
The lead Guardian turned, his brow furrowed as he dropped into a combat stance.
"This is a private corporate matter. Stay out of it and I promise no one has to
die tonight."
With that, he ignored Haruo and reached out to seize Akio Kono by the collar.
But in that heartbeat, Haruo wiped the snot from his face. He scrambled up,
placing his massive body between Akio and the hitman, his frame trembling with
fear and exertion.
"N-No... even if he's mean... he took care of me... I won't let you take him!"
"The people of my village... they would never forgive me if I let a benefactor
be taken away!"
"..."
The Guardian's expression turned lethal. He lunged, swinging his dagger in a
series of rapid slashes. The blade carved through Haruo's outer layers of fat,
opening several bloody gashes. Haruo let out a pained shriek but didn't move.
The Guardian lost his patience. He prepared to cripple Haruo's legs before
snatching the President.
He was a millisecond away from the strike when—Slap!
A hand landed lightly on his shoulder.
It was Ren Shiroki.
"Mm~!"
Ren's nostrils flared as he took a deep, appreciative breath. He grinned at the
hitman. "I smell fresh bread! Which street did you guys just come from? We're
looking for a good bakery~!"
The hitman didn't hesitate. He twisted his hips for a spinning strike while the
second Guardian lunged for Ren's midsection. It was a high-level pincer attack
intended to end the encounter instantly.
The next second—Zip!
Ren's left knee snapped upward, catching the lead hitman in the lower back and
launching him into the air. Without letting the momentum die, Ren's left leg
hooked downward like a falling axe, slamming the first hitman into the second.
[SAGAT'S TIGER RAID]!
"MISSION START—!"
With a thunderous roar, the two Guardians were upended. They were slammed into
the pavement in a tangled heap of limbs and white fabric.
CRUNCH!
A heavy sound of impact was followed by a ragged scream. Both men coughed up
blood, their pristine white suits now stained a deep, messy crimson.
"..."
The speed of the reversal left Haruo staring in awe. "S-So strong!"
On the other side of the alley, Akio Kono had already scrambled toward the exit.
"Pig! And you two! Run! There's way more than just two of them!"
Sure enough, a third Guardian appeared from the shadows behind Akio.
Haruo tried to rush to his aid, but he was bumped by the falling bodies of the
first two Guardians. He hit the floor on his backside, his shallow wounds
leaking blood. He looked pathetic, a broken giant lost in a storm.
"Ungh—!!"
Haruo flailed, trying to find his footing, but his 315kg mass refused to
cooperate. He was sweating buckets, tears and snot flowing in a constant stream.
Ren Shiroki prepared to step in, but another figure emerged from the gloom. He
stepped past Ren and stood beside the fallen Haruo, facing the new wave of
murderous Guardians.
He was a powerfully built man with a bald head and a thick, bushy beard. His
frame was sturdier than an average man's, and he wore a simple shirt and
trousers with wire-framed glasses. His gaze was remarkably gentle.
"Performing a righteous deed is the duty of any martial artist."
"Little Fatty-kun... you'll catch a cold sitting on the damp ground. Let me help
you up."
The bearded man's voice was as warm as a summer breeze. He looked younger than
his beard suggested—the facial hair made him look more like a veteran master
than he actually was.
"..."
He reached down and grabbed Haruo's hand. Then...
He pulled. Haruo didn't budge.
Faced with a 242cm, 315kg behemoth, the bearded man realized that without the
proper leverage, he couldn't even shift the giant's weight.
He strained until his face turned red, finally giving up with a helpless sigh.
He stood straight, ignoring the awkwardness of the moment. He reached out and
tore a strip of fabric from his own shirt, beginning to expertly bandage Haruo's
arm.
"Oh, right. I haven't introduced myself."
The man ignored the fact that he was now wearing a tattered shirt. He offered a
serene smile to the group.
"You may call me... Jaku Kaioh."
(End of Chapter)
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