Chapter 363: Soul-Level Relaxation!
{That damn Psycho Power...!!}
Ed cursed, turning his head to spit in disdain. He was as irritable as he was
foul-mouthed.
But Ren Shiroki didn't have a single shred of doubt regarding this "young
Master's" strength.
Height: 182cm. Weight: 86kg. Hobby: Overwhelming Victory!
He was a powerfully built youth dressed like a street boxer, wearing a teal-blue
jacket open at the chest, with red boxing bandages wrapped around his hands. He
had messy, platinum-blonde hair with a long fringe that obscured half of his
face. While he looked like a cold, hardened young man, his actual age was only
fifteen—he was technically still a minor, younger even than Baki Hanma.
The reason for his accelerated growth was the "Psycho Power" he mentioned, a
legacy of the evil organization Shadaloo and its leader, M. Bison (Vega).
Subjected to horrific human experimentation, Ed's body had been artificially
aged from a child to a young adult by the influence of that energy.
Ultimately, Ed didn't just survive the experiments; he adapted to the Psycho
Power. Following Shadaloo's collapse, he traveled the world to liberate other
test subjects, gradually mastering the energy within him.
His combat style was "Boxing." Specifically, a brutal, high-impact style of
pugilism taught to him by Balrog (Bison), one of the Four Heavenly Kings. Ed had
fused those violent fundamentals with his own unique footwork and Psycho Power
to create a personal style of "Psycho Boxing."
To grow from a dying lab rat to a powerhouse of his caliber—Ed's pedigree was
undeniable.
The ink-wash smoke billowed, carving out Ed's silhouette. He stood outside the
imaginary ring, crossing his arms and looking Ren up and down.
{You call that move the [ENGINE]? Even if it's not Psycho Power, the logic
behind it is similar.}
{Psycho Power, as the name implies, is driven by the strength of the mind. The
more intense your fighting spirit, the more explosive the power—}
Ed paused, his eyes narrowing. {Wait... you've also got the Satsui no Hado
clinging to you? That junk is just as much of a headache as Psycho Power! Don't
tell me you've actually got a trace of the real stuff in you?}
Ed covered his face and shook his head.
{Contacting both the Hado and Psycho Power just to see "how strong they are"...
you're either an idiot or the most naive brat on the planet.}
{I won't stop you, though. Go ahead and try your best.}
Ed centered himself, his tone becoming instructional.
{I used to think this Psycho Power crap was only fueled by negative emotions.
But I've heard there are freaks who drive it with positive ones—they call it
Soul Power.}
{That little spark you're feeling... it's probably something like that.}
Ed's words were a revelation to Ren. Whether that tiny sensation was truly
"Psycho Power" didn't matter. Ren already had experience co-existing with the
Surge of Murderous Intent.
"All battle and strength eventually lead to the Satsui no Hado," Ren whispered.
"So, does every spark of fighting spirit and emotion eventually lead to this?
Psycho Power... or rather, Soul Power?"
Ren's mouth curled into a grin. "Whether it's the Hado or this 'Spirit' energy,
they're just like any other combat technique. They are things I can enjoy
through the 'Process' of progress."
"If I've already started exploring the Murderous Intent, then I might as well
explore the other side—the absolute limit of Fighting Spirit!"
The veins in Ren's eyes pulsed with renewed intensity.
His will took total command of his biology. He discarded every trace of
subconscious reflex, using pure fighting spirit to ignite the [ENGINE] to its
redline!
"If a strong enough will is refined to its apex... perhaps it touches the realm
of the soul itself?"
Ren's philosophy made Ed scowl.
{This is the first time I've heard a take like that. It sounds like a total
mess! And listen, kid—Psycho Power isn't something you can just 'use' whenever
you feel like it.}
{Whatever. I'll demonstrate the moves. Whether you can actually pull them off is
your problem. I don't give a damn.}
Ed waved his hand, the ink-wash smoke dissipating as he gestured toward Okubo.
{That guy is strong. But if you actually put your mind to it, he shouldn't be
hard to handle. Wrap this up!}
Ren had other ideas. "This is a rare fight. I want to enjoy it a little longer.
There will never be another match exactly like this one. I might learn more if I
drag it out."
Ed looked impatient. {Who taught you that?}
Ren grinned. "Another Master."
{WOW! OK!!}
Dee Jay suddenly flicked into existence, flashing a row of brilliant white teeth
and giving a double-thumbs up to encourage his disciple.
Ed: {—?!}
Ed: {Where the hell did you come from?}
Despite his annoyance, Ed didn't interfere. This was Ren's fight, and in the
world of the Phantoms, the disciple's "Process" was sacred.
"Hah...!"
Ren exhaled a cloud of bloody steam.
At the same time, Okubo had taken the brief lull to fully reset his systems,
preparing for another round of high-intensity "Synthesis."
Ren chuckled. "Striking, throwing, choking, locking—seamlessly integrated to
drown the opponent in your rhythm. That's your play, isn't it?"
Okubo laughed, looking delighted. "Not bad, right? That's my bread and butter!"
Ren lowered his head, allowing the blood on his face to drip onto the sand.
"It's definitely your strength. But for me... it's not 'Intense' enough."
Ren pivoted side-on. He began a slow, rhythmic march forward, maintaining his
"Relaxed" left-arm stance. Okubo mirrored him, closing the gap.
"The giants advance toward each other once more!" the announcer roared. "Their
pace is slow, but the air between them is a powder keg ready to blow!"
Ren's posture stabilized.
In the stands, Gaolang's eyes sharpened. "A Philadelphia Shell? Is Ren Shiroki
going to try and out-box an MMA champion? Why?!"
Cosmo Imai was equally baffled. "Facing Okubo's total synthesis... he's choosing
to limit himself to boxing?"
Meanwhile, in the waiting room, Alai Jr. leaned closer to the monitor.
"Ren Shiroki has slightly adjusted his guard," the announcer noted, confused.
"His lead shoulder is raised, but his lead hand is dangling low and swaying... a
classic Philly Shell stance!"
Gradually, the noise of the crowd faded for Ren. He heard nothing but the beat
of his own heart and the calculations of his own mind.
No... it's still not enough...
Ren maintained the [ENGINE], his lead left hand swaying like a pendulum as he
focused on the microscopic sensations within his arm.
First, he discarded the concept of skin. Then muscle. Then blood vessels. Then
bone.
He left nothing but Consciousness.
But his fighting spirit still wasn't concentrated enough to be called "Soul
Power." Even though he had manually overridden his subconscious, traces of other
intents remained: pain, pleasure, anticipation, tension.
These were distractions. They weren't pure spirit. Driving his body with a
"cluttered" mind made him a millisecond "Slow." He wasn't fully synchronized.
He had to burn away the clutter. He had to convert everything into a singular,
razor-sharp intent—an consciousness that could be called "Psycho Power."
If he couldn't do it with his whole body, he would start with one arm. One fist.
One finger.
He wasn't just using "Will" to drive his muscles. He was moving deeper—using the
"Fighting Spirit within the Will" to drive his very existence!
This level of focus was supposed to be beyond the reach of human biology.
However, if one desired it with their entire being...
What was the "Heart"? Was it an organ? A collection of thoughts? Or was it...
the Soul?
If Psycho Power was "Soul Power," then the source of the spirit that drove the
body wasn't an organ. It was the user's very essence.
Ren's lead left forearm began to sway in a tiny, high-frequency arc.
He knew his arm was there, yet he could no longer "feel" its physical presence.
It had lost its shape, driven by spirit until it became a flickering, ethereal
entity.
The closer he got to the tips of his fingers, the more blurred the limb became.
Ah... so light... Ren mused.
It was as if his left arm was being manipulated entirely by his "Mental Energy."
He had turned his limb into spirit, discarding the concept of weight entirely.
He had taken Relaxation (Datsuryoku) to its absolute limit!
[SOUL-LEVEL RELAXATION]!
The aura radiating from Ren turned dark and unsettling.
Okubo felt a bead of sweat roll down his forehead, but he didn't back down. He
met the pressure head-on.
"Choosing a head-on collision? That's the dream scenario for me!"
"I've been waiting for a brawl like this!"
Zip!
Okubo lunged, leading with a tackle stance but staying primed for a mid-range
strike.
The moment he entered Ren's reach—VROOM!
Ren's "Soul" arm snapped forward. It moved in a flicker-jab motion, but the
forearm appeared to vanish entirely. The speed was beyond the limits of human
perception.
Clap—!
But Ren didn't punch. His fingers spread wide, "snatching" Okubo's lead right
wrist mid-air.
[ED: PSYCHO FLICKER]!
In its martial application, this move could be used as a lightning jab—or as a
grappling hook to yank the opponent into the user's personal space!
Shick!
Ren exerted a violent rearward force, yanking Okubo toward him. The two men were
suddenly chest-to-chest, their distance reduced to zero.
At this range, Okubo's planned "Synthesis" flurry was rendered useless. His
rhythm was completely severed.
"—?!"
Okubo gasped, his mind unable to process the pull.
Ren looked just as startled, but his surprise was tempered with ecstatic joy.
The "completion" of the new technique filled him with a manic desire to explore
the next move.
"So, next up is..."
Ren made a [SATSUI CHOICE]. He delivered a low-line sweep to Okubo's shin, then
hoisted the man's arm over his shoulder, throwing him with effortless ease.
[RYU: SHOULDER THROW]!
Fwoosh!
☆☆☆
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