Chapter 316: Peak Condition
"Retsu Kaioh is a titan in the world of Kenpo. If anyone can find a way to save
Baki Hanma, it's him. The depths of that 4,000-year history are beyond our
imagination."
"..."
Ren Shiroki sat chatting with Heihachi Furumi, while Mitsuyo Kureishi and Cosmo
Imai chipped in with their own technical takes. Around them, the Great Mess Hall
was a microcosm of the martial world.
Friends and rivals gathered for a hundred different reasons. Relaxation,
professional duty, tactical meetings, or simply waiting for the next spark of
violence. Whether they were "Righteous" or from the "Underworld," everyone acted
according to their own unyielding will, radiating an intense passion for the
life they had chosen.
This was why Ren loved these people. Being around them made his own soul
vibrate.
Today is for the festival. And for the fight, Ren thought, bidding farewell to
the group in the hall.
Ren and Fusui resumed their stroll, wandering through the labyrinthine streets
of the village. They ate a second lunch at a quiet Izakaya and spent the early
afternoon napping under the shade of a massive tree in the park. The summer air
carried a hint of autumn's crispness, a perfect backdrop for the quiet snoring
of the two young predators.
By mid-afternoon, the village reached a fever pitch.
Ordinary tourists continued to enjoy the stalls, oblivious to the high-stakes
games being played behind the scenes. They occasionally wondered why the Central
Plaza had been cordoned off with heavy curtains and guarded by men who looked
like special forces operators.
The official Kure explanation: "We're storing a massive amount of high-grade
pyrotechnics for tonight's Fireworks Grand Finale. For public safety, access is
restricted. The sounds you hear are simply our technical crews conducting
soundchecks for our internal performance."
It was a perfect lie for the "Outsiders."
But inside those curtains, something far more volatile than gunpowder was about
to detonate.
Central Plaza, Interior.
The octagon and the surrounding spectator zone had been meticulously reset. The
"Insiders" filed in first, their discussions humming with anticipation.
Shigeru Akagi, Baku Madarame, Kaji, the Valkyrie roster, the SJPW squad, the MPD
Judo division, Mitsuyo Kureishi, and dozens of Kengan chairmen and fighters.
Alongside them stood the local elite of the Kure Clan.
The audience was a sea of the world's most dangerous individuals.
The young Kure announcer, now dressed in a formal tactical uniform, stepped onto
the sand with her microphone. She offered a crisp bow to the crowd.
"Ladieees and gentlemen! Thank you for waiting!"
Her voice ignited the crowd's blood.
"This year's temporary arena finally reaches its grand finale! Two titans are
about to ascend these steps to decide who is the true King of the Festival!"
"The [Saint of War] Gouki Shibukawa showed us the absolute height of technical
mastery!"
"The [Soul Combatant] Ren Shiroki followed, radiating a spirit that would not be
denied!"
"The [Hell's Angel] Jun Sekibayashi gave us a lesson in the unyielding soul of
Pro-Wrestling!"
"And now... the final curtain rises!!"
On either side of the ring were enclosed preparation zones for the fighters.
Inside the left tunnel, Raian Kure was working a heavy bag. His fists and feet
were a blur of high-velocity impacts, each hit letting out a sound like a small
explosion.
Bang! BOOM! Thud!
It was a standard pre-fight warm-up, but Raian was clearly reaching a state of
manic hysteria. Red veins throbbed across his jet-black eyes.
"Boring... everything is so damn boring!"
Raian's massive hand reached out, his fingers digging into the leather of the
bag. He squeezed, his grip strength so immense that the thick material puckered
and groaned. Veins stood out like braided cables on his forearms.
"The hitmen from IDEAL... the mercs from The Worm... they're all just garbage!
Trash! None of them could even keep me from yawning!"
His fingers tightened further. With a sickening RIP, he manually shredded the
heavy bag. He bared his teeth, a thin trail of steam escaping his lips.
"I've waited all day for this, Brother! You better not bore me!"
"Because if you do... I might just forget we're related and butcher you on the
spot!"
A short distance away, Erio Kure watched from the shadows, accompanied by
Reiichi. Hearing Raian's homicidal rant, the Patriarch let out a long, weary
sigh.
"Normally, I'd stop a match like this. It's a festival, and we have a law
against 'Family' killing each other." Erio's gaze sharpened. "But Raian and
Ren... they are 'Anomalies.' They crave the fire. To deny them would be to stall
their evolution."
"You're too loud, Old Man!"
Raian turned around, his "Problem Child" nature on full display. He didn't care
that he was talking to the head of the Clan. "Progress? Opportunity? Evolution?
Shut up with that geriatric crap!"
"At the end of the day, I just want to hit someone! So naturally, I'm going to
break him!"
Erio didn't get angry; he actually looked amused. "This year's ring is much
hotter than the previous ones. Ren Shiroki has been through the meat-grinder
today."
He arched an eyebrow at his grandson. "Yet, look at him. He's back in his prep
area doing his routine. He doesn't look tired at all."
"Tch!"
Raian's expression turned demonic. He drove his fingers into the shredded
leather of the bag again. With a violent twist of his core, he yanked.
CRUNCH!
The industrial bolts anchoring the bag to the ceiling snapped like dry twigs.
Raian caught the 150kg bag mid-air and slammed it into the floor with a
thunderous BOOM.
The floor tiles shattered, half the bag sinking into a fresh crater.
"KUKAKAKA! That's more like it! Now I'm getting a beat!"
Reiichi massaged his temples, looking at the smirking Erio. "Grandpa, you're
fanning the flames a bit too much..."
Opposite Prep Zone.
Ren Shiroki had already stripped off his clothes, handing them to Fusui. He
stood in his training shorts, throwing shadow-strikes in the center of the room.
Compared to Raian's destructive frenzy, Ren's warm-up was serene, focused, and
clean. Only a thin layer of sweat coated his skin.
Fusui watched him with a mix of pride and concern. "Ren-chin... is this enough?"
She tilted her head. "You're fighting my big brother. A few shadow-punches...
are you sure you're ready?"
Zip! Zip-zip!
Ren didn't stop. He listened to her while maintaining his flow.
"Phew—"
Ren took a deep breath. He dropped into Ryu's foundation Karate stance, firing a
Light-Medium-Heavy punch combination. He drove off his heels, pivoted, and
snapped off a matching three-kick sequence.
The moment his foot touched down, his rhythm shifted. He transitioned into
Luke's modern MMA guard. Again, he fired a 1-2-3 combo, his movements light,
rapid, and technical.
Zip-zip-zip!
After MMA came the others. Wrestling takedown entries, Drunken Boxing sways,
Military CQC parries, Muay Thai clinches, Cammy's assault lunges, Kickboxing
rotations—
The transitions were so fluid that even a layman could see the "Evolution." To
Fusui's expert eyes, it was staggering. Ren's movements were becoming more
"Functional" and "Beautiful" with every heartbeat.
CLAP!
Ren finished the circuit and began to bounce, his arms flowing with the rhythm
of his body.
"Punches, kicks... the basic things. To me, they are the language of combat.
They are the mandatory practice."
"It feels... right. I feel great!"
Up in the ring, the announcer stepped to the side.
"THE FINALE IS UPON US!" "THEY ARE COMING!!"
She pointed toward the left tunnel. "First, the challenger! The [DEVIL] of the
Kure Clan—RAIAN KURE!!"
STOMP! STOMP! STOMP!
Raian kicked the heavy curtains aside. He walked onto the sand with a heavy,
ominous gait, the homicidal grin on his face reaching from ear to ear.
"And now, the defender! From the Soul Combat Hub, the [SOUL COMBATANT]—REN
SHIROKI!!"
Ren pulled the curtain aside. He still had a towel draped around his neck. He
walked to the edge of the ring, wiped the sweat from his brow, and tossed the
towel to Fusui.
Zip!
He performed a clean vault over the ropes, his bare feet hitting the sand with a
soft, steady thud.
The casual crowd saw a "Clean-cut" fighter. But the true Masters—Shibukawa,
Erio, Kurachi, Sekibayashi—all froze.
"Ren-kun's condition..." Kurachi whispered, his eyes widening. "It's too good.
It doesn't make sense!"
"He's fought a Gaolang-level master, a wrestling ace, and a Kaioh today,"
Shibukawa noted, his glasses reflecting the lights. "Yet he looks like he's been
resting in a spa for a week!"
"He's conserving his spirit and sharpening his energy.. I don't know how he tuned
his body that fast... but he's at 100% output!"
(End of Chapter)
☆☆☆
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