Chapter 326: Continuing to Enjoy the Process
This was the temporary octagon, built specifically for the Kure Clan's Summer
Festival.
Now, the ring was a canvas of violence. Fresh blood had saturated the sand,
pockmarked by craters and impacts. Several sections of the wooden barricade were
reduced to splinters. The scene was, by every objective metric, a massacre.
In the natural world, blood loses its warmth the second it leaves the body. But
here, every spectator shared the same surreal sensation—the ring felt white-hot.
It was vibrating with a residual, feverish life force that set the blood of
every observer on fire!
"THE MATCH IS DECIDED—!!!"
"Both warriors fought to the absolute limit of human endurance! In the end, the
[DEVIL] has fallen, while the [SOUL COMBATANT] remains standing on trembling
legs!"
"This battle was more than a match; it was a display of terror and will!"
"But as we all know—!"
"A battle must have a conclusion!"
The young Kure announcer shrieked into her microphone. "Raian Kure is defeated!"
"That demonic ferocity, that overwhelming violence, and that bone-chilling
strength... all were overcome by Ren Shiroki's terrifying technical flurry!"
"Phew...!"
The announcer took a deep, shaky breath.
"One lies prone, the other kneels. Both warriors are broken—fractures, internal
bleeding, even shattered teeth litter the sand!"
"But look at them! No one in this plaza would dare call this 'Pathetic'!"
"This is the most beautiful posture a human can strike—the posture of the
Strong!!"
"After a death-struggle to the bitter end, the result has left the crowd
speechless! The cheers haven't even started because the shock is too great!"
"THE WINNER—REN SHIROKI!!!"
The audience remained in a stunned silence, unable to snap back from the
visceral finale.
Ren Shiroki remained on his knees, his vision a hazy blur. Agony was radiating
from every fiber of his being, a soul-crushing weight that felt as if his body
were about to vibrate into pieces.
Hah... phew... hah...
He exhaled a rhythmic trail of hot, metallic steam.
There was no doubt—he was a wreck. His nasal bridge was shattered. His mandible,
ribs, and metacarpals were all either fractured or cracked. His neck, wrists,
and ankles were swollen with minor sprains and acute inflammation. Beneath his
skin, a map of deep hematomas was forming.
Yet, despite the pain that made him want to scream, Ren couldn't help himself.
He was absolutely, purely in love with this moment!
This feeling... it's the best!
Ren forced his eyes open. One eyelid was swollen nearly shut, but his focus
gradually sharpened, scanning the faces in the plaza.
Ah... I can see them all.
Archenemies, friends, lovers, family, masters, and the ink-wash phantoms of the
Hub...
They are all so beautiful!
Ren began to ponder. Had he ever visualized this specific ending? No. He
realized he had never even given it a thought.
"..."
To Ren Shiroki, there was no such thing as a "Correct Result." That concept had
never existed for him.
That didn't mean he didn't chase the good things. Quite the opposite.
Ren "wanted" everything with a desperate, manic hunger!
He wanted to be strong. He wanted a perfect physique. He wanted to grow his Hub.
He wanted a hundred legendary friends. He wanted to trade souls with every
"Monster" on Earth. He wanted to master every secret art!
It was the Action—the fire of the doing—that he craved. The "Result" was just a
secondary byproduct. Though, he had to admit, the "Result" tonight tasted
particularly sweet!
Ren narrowed his eyes, sensing a wall of heat approaching. The wave of cheers
was finally beginning to break over the ring. Every pore of his body could feel
the addictive, sugary rush of the crowd's approval.
"Nice. That's perfect..."
Ren's expression relaxed into a serene murmur.
His eyes shifted to the spectator rail, finding the short-haired girl. Fusui
Kure had already vaulted over the fence, but she hadn't moved to interrupt him.
She was leaning against a post, watching him with a look of pained, patient
pride.
Seeing Ren finally look her way, Fusui blinked her black-and-white eyes and
offered a mischievous tilt of her head. She gave him a little wave.
"Yo~!"
Ren's lips pulled back into a grin. He leaned forward, driving his right foot
into the sand to find a pivot. He drove off the floor, springing from his knees
to a standing position in one fluid motion.
Zip!
The movement was remarkably light. He shook the sweat and blood from his limbs,
standing tall and anchoring his heels in the sand.
"..."
Ren spread his arms wide, lightly tightening his fists.
Visually, his blood-soaked body looked as if it were on the verge of collapsing.
But if you looked at his aura—at the way his muscles were rippling beneath the
gore—it was clear that Ren was in a state of hyper-arousal. Every cell was
already resetting, already hungering for the next round.
"Phew—!"
Ren took a deep breath. He hoisted his right arm toward the moon, his fist
tightening with a thunderous CLACK. He acknowledged the entire plaza.
"I WON—!!!"
He lowered his arm, his body swaying slightly as he murmured to himself:
"Alright... time to enjoy the next 'Process'..."
Fusui Kure sprinted onto the sand, reaching him in seconds. Jaku Kaioh was close
behind. They took positions on either side of him, supporting Ren's weight.
Simultaneously, the Kure medical team scrambled into the ring to tend to the
fighters. Ren was stable, but the doctors hurried toward the fallen Raian.
Just as a medic reached out to check the "Devil's" vitals, a hand clamped onto
the doctor's wrist. Erio Kure stepped in, fending the medic off. The Patriarch
sensed a lingering danger. He reached out and gave Raian's shoulder a sharp,
testing slap.
The next heartbeat—ZIP!
The prone, blood-covered Raian suddenly whipped his arm out, swatting Erio's
hand aside with violent force.
The impact was heavy. A normal man's wrist would have snapped; his neck might
have been broken by the recoil.
"You damn brat. You trying to break your Grandpa's arm?" Erio shook his wrist
out, cursing with an amused smirk. "You idiot... have you no shame? The fight is
over!"
The spectators assumed it was Raian's combat instinct firing while unconscious,
but they were wrong.
"Hee-hee..."
Raian bared his teeth in a demonic grin. He slowly opened his eyes, his gaze
full of lazy, satisfied mockery.
"I did that on purpose, Old Man. You were the one who reached out your hand. It
was an opening. It would have been a waste not to take a swing, right?"
With that, Raian stood up. He had been knocked cold by the kick, but he had
snapped back to awareness seconds later, choosing to lie in the sand and enjoy
the "Ending."
Compared to Ren, Raian's condition was visibly better. Though he staggered
slightly, he didn't need support. In fact, looking closely, he shared that same
"Hyper-Refreshed" aura that Ren possessed!
Watching the two monsters, Reiichi and Horiuo chatted from the sidelines.
"He's still a prick, and he's still disrespectful to Gramps, but his strength is
undeniable," Reiichi noted, crossing his arms. "The deciding factor was
Shiroki-san's final high sweep."
He tapped his own neck. "That kick caught Raian on the carotid sinus. Instant
biological shutdown."
"It was a match of millimeters," Horiuo agreed. "They're both terrifying. And
after tonight... they're both going to be even stronger."
As the doctors began a formal assessment of both fighters, the audience finally
exploded into a roar of applause.
"MAGNIFICENT! BOTH OF THEM WERE MONSTERS!" "THE DUAL TITANS OF THE FESTIVAL!"
"UNBELIEVABLE STRENGTH!"
Hearing the cheers, Ren Shiroki couldn't stop the laughter from bubbling up.
He leaned into Fusui and Jaku, blood still trickling from his nose. He looked at
the girl and offered a quiet analysis. "If that last punch of Raian's had hit my
heart instead of my face... I'd be the one taking a nap right now."
"But that's combat for you. Even with the same moves and the same people, the
outcome of 'This Time' is always different from 'Next Time'."
"It's because every fight is a one-of-a-kind experience that it's so damn
addictive!"
Ren's weight sagged, his energy finally dipping. He rested his head on Fusui's
shoulder. His nostrils flared, catching the scent of iron from his own blood,
and the light floral scent of the girl's hair.
"You really took a beating, Ren-chin," Fusui whispered, her eyes crinkling into
beautiful black-and-white crescents. "I guess you'll be looking to get even
stronger after this, won't you?"
Beside them, Jaku Kaioh chimed in with high-pitched admiration. "The youth of
today! To seek the peak even through the pain! Truly magnificent!! Is this
mindset the secret to your—"
Grab.
Jaku's mouth was suddenly covered by a massive hand. Jun Sekibayashi had
returned from the clinic, his face a map of fresh stitches. He manually "yanked"
the Master away from Ren.
The Hell's Angel gave Ren and Fusui a wide, supportive grin, signaling for them
to ignore the talkative Kaioh.
The perimeter finally grew quiet.
Ren and Fusui looked at each other. After a heartbeat, they both burst into a
fit of laughter, leaning against each other for balance as they staggered toward
the exit.
They laughed until they were breathless. Then, wobbling slightly, they began
their walk toward the medical wing.
(End of Chapter)
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