Chapter 311: Combat and Evolution
"Hah... Phew... Hah..."
Doyle was retching uncontrollably. Between the blood and the stomach acid, he
wasn't even sure what he was throwing up anymore. He panted, the sharp scent of
iron filling his lungs, and forced his eyes to focus on Ren Shiroki, who was
still crouching casually beside him.
Doyle took a deep, agonizing breath, his voice a raspy whisper. "Are you... are
you still looking for a fight?!"
"It's not about whether I'm looking for one or not," Ren replied with a serene
smile. "I'm not like you, Doyle-aniki. I don't run from the struggle. The
question is: how do you want to end this?"
"By the way," Ren added, glancing toward the shadows, "if you're going to run,
do it now. The [ANGEL FROM HELL] is right behind me, and he's a lot more
sadistic than Seki-aniki."
Doyle's temper flared again, but before he could retaliate, the light in the
alley was blotted out. He looked up to see the massive, blood-stained silhouette
of Jun Sekibayashi—or rather, the entity known as Marvelous Seki. The giant
loomed over him like a mountain of iron and white greasepaint.
"Ren! You're friends with Sekibayashi?" Seki growled, blood dripping from his
chin. "I heard your match is settled. This prey is mine now. Don't you dare
interfere!"
Ren raised his hands in a 'peace' sign and stepped back, letting the
"Netherworld" take over.
But Doyle didn't wait for the giant to move. CLICK!
His toes twitched, triggering an industrial spring hidden in his right leg. The
mechanism snapped taut, the kinetic energy lifting his nearly paralyzed body off
the ground in an explosive burst.
"HYAH!"
Doyle drove his forehead upward in a vicious headbutt, catching Seki square on
the bridge of his nose.
BANG!
Splurt!
Seki took the full force of the mechanical impact. He was launched backward, his
head snapping back as blood geysered from his nostrils like two crimson
fountains.
Even though his face was likely fractured and the pain was blinding, the
Marvelous Seki simply bared his teeth. He used his massive mass to anchor
himself, refusing to fall.
"SHINK!"
Seki let out a sharp, rhythmic bark. He reached out and clamped a hand around
Doyle's neck, the pressure turning the convict's face a mottled purple.
Doyle gritted his teeth and fired a right straight. This was where his body
modifications truly shined. His finger twitched, the spring in his elbow fired,
and his fist shot forward with the speed of a bullet.
THE SPRING-FIST!
BANG!
The strike caught Seki flush on the jaw. The force was enough to dislocate the
bone instantly. Seki's mouth hung open at an awkward, swinging angle, his
mandible vibrating from the shock.
The giant's eyes glazed over for a heartbeat—a momentary blackout.
Feeling the grip on his throat loosen, Doyle coiled his body and delivered a
double-stomp to Seki's chest.
THUD!
He used the impact to propel himself into a backward flip, successfully escaping
the giant's reach.
Ordinarily, this was the perfect opening for a finishing combo. But the
resilience of a Pro-Wrestler defied the logic of "normal" combat. Seki didn't
retreat. He didn't even drop into a guard. He stood there with his jaw hanging
crookedly, his blood-red eyes locked onto Doyle with a predatory, manic focus.
Doyle felt a jolt of genuine fear. He instinctively twisted his feet and took
off, scrambling away into the darkness of the maze-like streets.
"..."
Watching the convict flee, Sekibayashi placed both hands on his own jaw. He gave
it a violent, upward shove.
CRACK-POP!
The dislocated jaw was manually reset into its socket.
"Hah! Haven't had my jaw popped like that in years!"
Seki rotated his shoulders, sticking his tongue out at Ren. "Ren-kun! Since your
score is settled, this guy belongs to the Netherworld now!"
"If you try to steal my 'Finish,' I'll curse your soul!"
Ren gave a cheerful nod, signaling for the Angel to carry on. Sekibayashi took
off at a dead sprint, pulling a tube of greasepaint from his trunks and
"repairing" his battle-makeup mid-stride.
"A Pro-Wrestler's battle always needs a proper 'Finish'!"
In truth, Doyle didn't know why he was still running.
Or rather, running had become his default "Tactical Response." But for the first
time in his life, he felt a deep, gnawing sense of irritation at his own
behavior. He was beginning to hate the sight of his own retreating shadow.
"Hah... Phew..."
He sprinted through three more blocks and dived into another pitch-black
alleyway. But as he rounded the corner, he hit a wall of meat. The massive
Pro-Wrestler was already there, leaning against the bricks and waiting for him.
"Greetings!"
Seki bared his teeth in a demonic grin, the blood on his face making the white
paint look even more gruesome. "First meeting! Treat me well!"
Doyle hunched over, his throat parched and his lungs burning. He let out a
weary, bitter laugh. "What kind of crazy talk is that? We just traded blows five
minutes ago!"
"Eh? That's strange. This is definitely my first time seeing you."
Seki tightened his fists. "You must have mistaken me for my brother from the
Netherworld! I'm MARVELOUS SEKI II!"
The claim was so absurd, so blatantly part of a "Script," that Doyle was
rendered speechless. He could only murmur, "Your wounds are identical... you're
a complete lunatic..."
Sekibayashi didn't care about the logic of the surface world.
"I heard you fought the 'First Gen' earlier? Well, I'm here to finish the story!
Tell me, kid... are you ready to admit defeat?!"
"..."
Doyle didn't answer, his silence serving as his final act of defiance.
Sekibayashi bared his teeth, stepping forward with a heavy, rhythmic stomp. He
unleashed a massive right straight aimed directly at Doyle's face.
BANG!
The impact sent Doyle into a series of mid-air rotations. He retched blood and
teeth as he spiraled through the air, his silhouette tracing broken circles in
the moonlight.
THUD!
Doyle hit the floor on his back, his jaw shattered and most of his teeth
missing.
As an elite Pro-Wrestler, Sekibayashi possessed absolute control over his
output. He had pulled the punch just enough to ensure Doyle stayed conscious. As
the convict struggled to rise, the "Second Generation" Angel whispered to him:
"Convict-kun... do you know what happens when a wrestling match has no ending?
It becomes a 'Bad Script.' A boring story."
"Do you really want your 'Battle' to be a boring, messy pile of nothing?"
"..."
Doyle had no answer. He staggered to his feet, swaying dangerously. He tried to
charge Sekibayashi, but his balance failed him. He ended up stumbling past the
giant, his body trying to continue the flight out of habit.
Sekibayashi watched his back, letting out a boisterous, high-pitched laugh.
"Run as far as you want! I have an entire army of brothers in the Netherworld
waiting for you at every corner!"
A short distance away, Ren Shiroki and Fusui Kure continued their observation.
"The intruders in Kure Village have mostly been neutralized," Fusui reported,
sipping a juice box and tossing a bag of chips to Ren. "Grandpa's people are
running the interrogations now. We'll know their objective soon."
"The only thing left for the festival... is the main event between you and my
big brother, right?"
Ren chewed on a handful of chips, offering a playful smirk. "Unless Old Man Erio
decides Raian isn't allowed to play."
"Not a chance," Fusui giggled, knowing her brother. "Grandpa isn't a spoilsport,
and Raian is already in a state of 'Pre-Battle Mania.' If he doesn't get to
fight you, he'll probably level the village before we head back to Tokyo."
"Haha! That sounds like a blast."
Ren felt a bit parched from the salt and took a swig of Fusui's drink.
"It's definitely going to be a deathmatch," Fusui noted, a hint of worry in her
voice despite her smile. "But if it helps you and Big Brother evolve... I guess
I'm happy for you."
Ren shook his head. "Evolve? For the sake of strength?"
"I don't have a complicated reason like that. I don't need a 'Why' to justify a
'What'."
"I just want to trade souls with Raian Kure. I have the idea in my head, and I
have the passion to see it through. That's enough."
"Combat... is just like being with you, Fusui. I do it because I want to, and
because doing it makes me feel alive."
Fusui beamed at him, her heart skipping a beat.
Simultaneously, the Kure Estate Dojo.
THUD! BOOM! CRACK!
The sound of high-velocity impacts was a continuous roar.
Raian Kure was conducting his daily routine, but his current state was pure
savagery. He was radiating such a toxic, violent aura that every other Kure
member had fled the facility, leaving the entire training hall to him.
Only the Patriarch, Erio Kure, and Reiichi remained to watch from the
observation balcony.
CRUNCH!
A thick reinforced concrete pipe was reduced to gravel by a single strike.
"Raian is even more amped than usual," Reiichi noted, crossing his arms as he
watched from a distance. "Is it the anticipation for the match with Shiroki-san?
They're family now, technically. I hope he doesn't take it too far..."
"Hmph. Words like that don't reach a brain as fueled by fire as his."
Erio let out a sigh of dark admiration. "Metsudo and Tokugawa... the Kengan
Annihilation Street Brawl they've created is forcing the world's warriors to
evolve. The Kure Clan will not be left behind."
Reiichi nodded in agreement.
The next heartbeat—ZIP!
A specialized, ultra-heavy 500kg sandbag was hit with so much force it was
launched across the hall. It whistled through the air, narrowly missing the
observation balcony before slamming into the far wall.
BOOM!!!
The bag was literally embedded in the masonry, a massive crater forming in the
reinforced concrete. The entire room shuddered from the kinetic shock.
Reiichi looked at the twisted, shattered remains of the bag and swallowed hard.
"Gulp—"
"Raian... if he keeps evolving like this... is he going to turn into a literal
Great Monster?"
(End of Chapter)
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