Chapter 369: With Good Friends
Late night. Two old friends were walking the streets of Tokyo.
One wore loose, casual clothes, his exposed neck and wrists a map of faded
scars. Height: 187cm. Weight: 103kg. [SOUL COMBATANT] Ren Shiroki.
The other wore a t-shirt and jeans under a light jacket. He had long,
cherry-blossom pink hair and a distinct horizontal scar across the bridge of his
nose. Height: 175cm. Weight: 69kg. [THE FREAK] Mitsuyo Kureishi.
They walked with the easy rhythm of veterans, laughing and talking.
Compared to Ren's high-stakes management of the Soul Combat Hub, Kureishi lived
the life of a true "semi-pro" martial artist. He ran his own bone-setting clinic
with a private dojo right next door. He was a celebrity in the MMA world and was
frequently invited to marquee matches.
As Kureishi put it: "Unlike you, Ren-chin, I don't care about 'testing my
limits' or climbing the ladder. I just really love the sound of breaking bones!
That's why I keep my hobby and my professional matches separate."
They were heading to one of Kureishi's favorite spots: a hole-in-the-wall curry
shop.
The shop was tucked into a quiet street corner. It was small, weathered, and
smelled of decades of spices.
"Curry is the absolute best food in the entire world!" Kureishi declared.
It wasn't exactly standard "midnight snack" fare, but since it was Kureishi's
top recommendation, Ren followed along with high expectations.
The two took their seats. While they waited for the main course, appetizers and
mugs of draft beer arrived.
"Cheers!"
The glass mugs collided with a sharp clink.
"Congrats on the MMA win, Kureishi-aniki!"
"You're the one who's really killing it, Ren-chin!" Kureishi laughed. "I wasn't
surprised, but damn—you actually beat the [COMBAT KING] Naoya Okubo."
"That guy is several weight classes above me, so we'll never meet in a standard
MMA ring. Otherwise, I'd love to feel his skeleton for myself! But for an
underground fight? Nah. He seems like a nice guy, and his bones look too
healthy. I'm afraid I wouldn't be able to control myself once I started
twisting."
Kureishi drained half his mug in one go.
Ren drank along with him, recounting the day's earlier events: Baki's
conversation with Alai Jr. and the duel that Baki had flatly refused. Kureishi
asked for the specifics, and Ren told him everything.
"Hmm..." Kureishi rubbed his chin. "Hanma and Mohammad—two legendary fathers,
and two equally gifted sons. Baki vs. Alai Jr."
"The comparison makes sense on paper, but I feel like something is missing,"
Kureishi mused.
As Cosmo Imai's master, Kureishi's experience as an instructor was far deeper
than Ren's. He viewed the world through a different lens.
"That Mohammad Alai Jr.... as an underground fighter, he has a similar problem
to Cosmo, but it's not exactly the same. Cosmo's flaw used to be that he relied
too much on 'Next Time.' He'd say things like, 'I'll beat you one day.' That's
fine for a sport, but in a real fight, 'Next Time' doesn't exist."
"Cosmo has been evolving since Speck almost killed him, though. He's starting to
realize the stakes. He's a genius—well, a 'normal' genius compared to a 'Super
Genius' like me, of course!"
Kureishi ordered a second mug. "But this Alai Jr.? I haven't met him formally,
but he feels overconfident. He lacks that specific 'scent' you only get when
you've accepted that you might not walk away from the match."
"That's why my disciple is better!" Kureishi laughed. "After seeing you beat
Okubo, Cosmo has been training like a man possessed. He's closing the gaps in
his game. When he has some free time, he's going to drop by the Hub to spar with
Marco. Tell the big kid to be ready~!"
Ren nodded. "I'll let him know."
The curry arrived—classic Japanese style. It was, as promised, incredible. Ren
snapped a photo and sent it to Gaolang Wongsawat.
"Gaolang-aniki loves Japanese curry. He'll probably hunt this place down
tomorrow," Ren noted.
"Eh? The Heavyweight King?" Kureishi chuckled. "Man, you're just like
Arisa-chan. You're a social butterfly!"
Ren waved a hand. "Just sharing the daily grind and fishing for likes. Two of my
Masters are really into that stuff. It's fun."
The drinks continued to flow.
Hours later, the two of them left the shop, staggering slightly with their arms
around each other's shoulders. They decided to hit one more spot. Since it was
autumn, it was the season for charcoal-grilled saury. Kureishi knew a place, so
they began a slow stroll to sober up while gossiping about the underground
world.
"You know..." Ren suddenly remembered. "The last time we went out drinking, we
got jumped by those Toyo Electric assassins, didn't we?"
"Did we?" Kureishi's eyes were glassy with booze. He shook his head with a grin.
"Nah, that was just a coincidence. I'm not that unlucky!"
They turned into a narrow, dimly lit alley.
Kureishi spread his arms wide, soaking in the cool night breeze. "See? Perfectly
quiet. Not a soul in sight!"
The next second—Whoosh.
A thin, dark silhouette drifted out from the shadows behind Kureishi's left
side. The figure was hunched over, a mass of long black hair obscuring its
features. It moved like a ghost.
Kureishi: "..."
Kureishi: "...Are you kidding me?"
Seriously? I'm just a positive, hard-working MMA fighter. Why do I get targeted
for assassination every time I go out for a beer?! I didn't even do anything
wrong!
Despite the thought, Kureishi didn't strike. He and Ren could both sense that,
unlike the Toyo Electric thugs, this person didn't radiate malice. There was no
killing intent, only a silent, watchful presence.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The shadow stepped forward, blocking their path. It turned to face them.
It was a young man with a wiry, lean build. Height: Roughly 155cm. Weight:
About 62kg.
His stance was bizarre. He was bent low, his legs spread wide, his arms hanging
so long they almost brushed the pavement. His messy black hair was of an
unnatural length, trailing behind him and coiling on the ground like a nest of
snakes.
He looked less like a human and more like a predatory insect. He radiated the
aura of a Human Spider.
Ren steadied the swaying Kureishi and squinted at the youth. "So... who are
you?"
The youth's eyes wide and unblinking, stared through the curtain of his hair.
"Ryo Inaba."
The youth introduced himself in a soft, airy voice. "I am a newly registered
Kengan fighter. My employer is Penasonic. I have come specifically to find you
two."
"I have a favor to ask. But before that... I wish to confirm your strength for
myself. Either of you will do. Please, fight me."
Ren patted Kureishi on the shoulder and pouted. "Man, I swear... whenever I
drink with you, I end up in a street fight."
Ren's face went flat for a second, then he looked up, baring his teeth in a
wide, delighted grin. "Which makes you a fantastic friend, Kureishi-aniki!"
Kureishi threw his head back, laughing. "Right?! I told you!"
The two of them continued their drunken banter, leaving Ryo Inaba looking a bit
awkward.
"Ahem—" Inaba coughed. "My apologies for finding you while you're intoxicated.
But this is a real-world encounter. Anything goes."
Ren waved a hand, telling him not to worry. "The fact that you didn't just jump
us from the shadows makes you way too polite for this world."
With that, Ren leaned Kureishi against a nearby wall, making sure he was stable.
Inaba nodded. "True. You seem less drunk than your friend. You haven't let your
guard down."
"What are you talking about?" Ren chuckled. "It's not about being drunk.
Kureishi-aniki just doesn't feel like fighting you. But me? I'm suddenly very
interested."
"As for the alcohol..."
Ren reached into Kureishi's jacket pocket and pulled out a tall can of beer.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Ren stepped back into the center of the alley, facing Ryo Inaba. He held the can
in a half-grip, spinning it in his palm before settling into the loose, swaying
stance of Jamie Siu.
He exerted pressure in his fingers, the aluminum can imploding—CRUNCH—as he
guzzled the liquid in a single breath.
[ENGINE]—MAX OUTPUT. [JAMIE: THE DEVIL'S SONG]!
"This is going to be fun!"
Ren bared his teeth. His stance became fluid and erratic, his body swaying with
a libertine grace. His feet shuffled and stumbled, only to root themselves into
the asphalt with iron-like stability a millisecond later.
THUD!
Ren planted his foot, his combat aura erupting like a physical shockwave.
Ren beckoned Inaba forward with a flick of his wrist.
"Come on—!!"
☆☆☆
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