Chapter 423: The Son of God
A few days later.
[RAZOR'S EDGE] Rihito and [THE COMBAT KING] Naoya Okubo were seated at their
usual booth in a local charcoal BBQ joint. As the smoke from the Wagyu beef
spiraled upward, Rihito recounted the events of the previous week.
Even days later, Rihito could still feel the phantom pressure of the moment Ren
Shiroki had crossed paths with Alai Jr. on the sidewalk.
"Shiroki-kun... man, the things he says lately," Rihito mused, leaning back in
his chair with his arms crossed. "He told me that if you can move even one
'Frame' ahead of your opponent, it doesn't matter if they block or dodge. You
aren't at a disadvantage."
"He views defense and evasion as 'Moves' with their own recovery data. If you
can trigger your next action before their defensive animation ends, you'll catch
them in the gap every single time."
Okubo paused with a piece of meat halfway to his mouth. "Synthesis at the
microscopic level... that level of technical awareness is unreal. He's looking
at the game differently now."
"Yeah," Rihito nodded. "And as for Alai Jr.? After Shiroki-kun put his lights
out, that tuxedo-wearing driver from the Arena scooped him up and threw him in
the back of a luxury sedan."
"He was shipped straight to the Tokyo Dome."
The driver—a middle-aged gentleman of the Tokugawa line—had followed Alai Jr. at
a distance, adhering to his orders to ensure the fighter reached the Pit safely.
When Ren had inadvertently induced a concussion in the boxer, the gentleman had
simply pulled over. Ren, looking slightly guilty about accidentally breaking his
new toy, helped the driver load the boy into the car.
"I'll take over from here, Shiroki-san," the driver had said politely.
Ren knew Alai Jr. wasn't seriously hurt; he just needed a few minutes for his
brain to stop vibrating. Whether he went to the arena to prepare or to the
medical wing for a quick check, the Underground Arena was the most logical
destination.
"Thanks. I'll leave him to you."
The luxury car pulled away. Alai Jr. was slumped in the back seat, his head
lolling against the leather. A thin trail of drool leaked from the corner of his
mouth—a less-than-godly sight.
Ren had watched the car vanish, then turned to Rihito with a snap of his
fingers.
"Rihito-kun! You coming to the Dome? Baki-kun is taking a match tonight."
Rihito's eyes had lit up. "Hell yes! Count me in!"
[Tokyo Dome — One Hour Later]
The sun had dipped below the skyline, leaving the city in a cool, autumn
twilight.
Ren and Rihito descended the private elevator to B6. As they stepped out, they
saw the usual flow of high-society predators and underground enthusiasts heading
for the stands. They secured prime ringside seats just as the floodlights flared
to life.
The Pit was packed. All 1,500 seats were filled, and the air was thick with the
scent of ozone and anticipation.
"Whoa!" Rihito looked around, grinning. "A match between the [CHAMPION] and the
'Son of God'... the house is rocking tonight!"
Ren nodded. Beside them, the Hub crew—Arisa, Fusui, and Marco—had arrived to
join the excitement. Looking across the Arena, Ren spotted Kozue Matsumoto in
the front row, Mitsunari Tokugawa vibrating in his booth, and the legend
Mohammad Alai Sr. sitting stoically in the VIP section.
The crowd's hunger for violence began to manifest as a physical heat.
Five minutes later, the entry gates groaned open.
[Blue Dragon Gate]
Mohammad Alai Jr. stepped into the arena. He was dressed in a heavy towel-robe,
professional boxing boots, and fresh hand wraps. He walked with a stiff, focused
gait, his expression a mask of determination.
He had recovered from the sidewalk encounter, but the "price of admission" was
visible on his face. A fresh bruise marked his jaw, and a surgical strip was
taped across the bridge of his nose.
He looked tense. Whether it was the high-speed warm-up he'd just finished or the
weight of the looming match, Alai Jr. was wound tight.
Then, the White Tiger gate began to—
SHICK!
A shadow flickered.
In a lateral corner of the arena, a massive silhouette vaulted over the stone
wall, bypassing the gate entirely. He landed in the sand with a heavy,
atmospheric THUD.
As the dust settled, the crowd fell into a terrified, worshipful silence.
A man in a black training uniform, his dark red hair fluttering like a mane of
dried blood. His bronze skin shimmered with a metallic, predatory luster.
[THE STRONGEST CREATURE ON EARTH] — Yujiro Hanma.
The crowd erupted in a panicked roar.
"THE OGRE?!" "It's him! Why is he in the ring?!" "Is he going to murder Alai Jr.
right now?!"
Even Tokugawa looked stunned by the intrusion. Alai Jr. froze, swallowing hard.
He had visited the Ogre upon his arrival in Tokyo, but facing him in the Pit was
a different dimension of pressure.
"Did you... need something?" Alai Jr. asked, his voice steadying through sheer
force of will.
Yujiro's eyes narrowed as he appraised the boxer. He focused on the fresh bruise
on Alai's chin—the mark left by Ren's palm strike.
"Hmph. I see. You got into a scrap on your way here, didn't you?"
"It seems you finally have... both feet on the ground."
Yujiro gave a thin, shark-like smile. "Soon, Baki will show me his 'Fangs.' Even
though he's just an eighteen-year-old brat, he's finally gaining the strength to
snarl at me. That is the opponent you are about to face."
"Move."
A clear, youthful voice cut through the Ogre's aura.
The crowd turned. [THE CHAMPION] Baki Hanma had walked out of the White Tiger
tunnel. He stood barefoot and bare-chested behind his father, his expression
eerily calm.
"This is my house," the boy declared, staring at his father's back without a
hint of fear. "Get out of the way."
Yujiro laughed—a low, rumbling sound that made the sand vibrate. He stepped
between the two combatants, raising his hands.
"Fight to the death!"
The Ogre's eyebrows arched into sickles. "Then... come and face me!!"
With that, Yujiro spun around. He vaulted over the perimeter railing and walked
straight to the massive war drum, shoving the terrified MPD staff aside.
"Heh..."
He didn't use a mallet. He raised his right palm and slammed it into the
reinforced hide of the drum.
BOOM—!!!
The leather split instantly under the impact. The sound of the "Demon's Pulse"
echoed through the B6 level as Yujiro's voice roared:
"BEGIN!!"
Alai Jr. didn't move immediately. He took a long, steadying breath. "A war-drum
beaten by the Strongest Creature... quite the symbolic opening."
Baki remained in a neutral, relaxed stance. He looked like he was standing in a
supermarket checkout line. "So... you fighting or talking?"
"You've miscalculated, Baki Hanma."
Alai Jr. slowly closed his fists, his eyes locking onto Baki. "On my way to this
arena, I experienced a true struggle. Thanks to that man... I finally woke up."
"I have adapted to the reality of the Street Brawl. You've lost your only window
to catch me off guard!"
Alai Jr.'s toes touched the sand. He began his weightless, rhythmic skip.
The Butterfly Step engaged.
"What is a struggle? What is a victory? I have the answers now."
"I am ready for a Life-or-Death Duel!"
Zip-zip-zip!
Alai Jr.'s footwork became a blur of grace.
"I will kill without sustaining damage. My father's ideal—the 'Untouchable
Offense'—I have evolved it to the next stage!"
"I will take your life without losing a drop of my own!"
"Even if you push me to the brink of death, I will be the one to—"
Before the sentence could finish—Fwoosh!
Baki lunged. His speed was so astronomical it bypassed Alai Jr.'s perception
entirely. He used his right instep in a high-speed upward flick, driving his
foot with surgical precision directly into Alai Jr.'s groin.
THUD!
"—!!"
Alai Jr.'s mouth fell open, his eyes bulging as if his nervous system had been
hit by a lightning bolt.
The crowd watched in stunned silence as the "Son of God" collapsed into a
pathetic, trembling heap in the sand, clutching his vitals, a trail of drool
already leaking from his lips.
☆☆☆
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