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Chapter 452 - Chapter 452: The Next Second of Me

Chapter 452: The Next Second of Me

As a martial artist, no matter how clear their chosen path might be, they will

always encounter certain unavoidable clashes—rivalries where a winner must be

decided.

For instance, the father-and-son dynamic of the Hanma bloodline. And just as

inevitably, the entanglement between Kiryu Setsuna and Ohma Tokita.

"At our starting point? To finish... me?"

Kiryu Setsuna muttered the words over and over, his eyes wide and unblinking as

his mind raced back through the years.

In the past, driven by the desire to be killed by an Ohma consumed by [THE

ADVANCE], he had deliberately struck Ohma's heart to trigger a violent rampage,

nearly getting his own neck snapped in the process. Only the timely arrival of

that "evil" man, Tokita Niko, had disrupted his plan.

Kiryu's ultimate ambition was to be utterly destroyed by a rampaging,

Advance-driven Ohma—to be obliterated by his personal "God of Destruction."

For that, Kiryu had been willing to sacrifice everything. And right now, the

current stage looked like the ideal realization of that wish.

"Finish me... Yes, break me just like you did back then, Ohma-kun..."

Kiryu whispered.

Every time he recalled that sensation, his entire body would tremble. A

feverish, morbid flush would rise to his cheeks, and a sickly, obsessive smile

would curl his lips, accompanied by a trail of drool. Eventually, his excitement

boiled over into a physical response, a distinct bulge forming beneath his

trousers.

From a distance, the local outlaws of the district witnessed the display and

shuddered in absolute revulsion.

Even in the lawless Ward, that level of deviance is on another tier.

They glanced over at Ren Shiroki, assuming he'd be disgusted. To their surprise,

Ren's expression was completely normal. He just looked mildly amused.

Ren shrugged mentally. Well, it's not the weirdest thing I've seen this week.

His mind drifted to another old friend—[THE FREAK] Mitsuyo Kureishi.

That cherry-haired eccentric didn't just obsess over specific individuals; as

long as someone had bones worth breaking, Kureishi's body would react with the

exact same manic, physiological euphoria. Compared to that true-born

bone-collector, Kiryu's trauma-induced obsession almost felt standard.

Ren sat on a broken chunk of concrete, muttering to himself, "My friends are a

weird bunch. But I suppose that's just how it goes."

The outlaws broke out in cold sweats.

What kind of neighborhood is this?! Are people from the outside world actually

crazier than the criminals inside the Ward?!

While they were spiraling in panic, a chilling, supernatural coldness descended

over the courtyard.

Everyone turned their attention back to the combatants.

Kiryu had caught sight of Ohma's stance—specifically, the Niko Style

fundamentals embedded within it.

Memories flooded back. He recalled the day he had witnessed the "God" he

worshipped reduced to a mere child, being gently patted on the head by Tokita

Niko. In Kiryu's warped, religious perspective, that act had been the ultimate

desecration—the "Curse" of Tokita Niko robbing his God of his terrifying

divinity and turning him weak.

Desire curdled into bitter grievance; grievance gave birth to homicidal rage.

Kiryu flung his arms wide, his internal aura twisting violently as an icy frost

seemed to coat the air around him.

He snapped his head toward Ren's direction for a fraction of a second, his voice

dropping into a raspy, unhinged hiss.

"Tokita Niko... You really are still alive, aren't you...?"

The moment was profoundly unsettling, sending a shiver down the spines of the

outlaws hiding in the shadows.

Kiryu's eyes twitched as he hallucinated. He saw Tokita Niko miraculously

resurrected, lurking in the perimeter crowd, waiting to sabotage his reunion

with Ohma.

"Get away!" Kiryu shrieked, lashing out at the empty air. "Don't you dare ruin

this for us!"

Ohma's expression turned heavy with sorrow, quickly hardening into absolute

resolve. "Don't worry. Nobody is going to interrupt us."

"Ah... Is that true?" Kiryu's manic eyes darted back to Ohma, a mix of terror

and ecstasy playing across his face. "Really, Ohma-kun? We won't be bothered

anymore...?"

[THE BEAUTIFUL BEAST] Setsuna Kiryu vs. [THE ASHURA] Ohma Tokita.

The duel at their "Starting Point" inside The Inside was officially live!

"Ah... Ahh..."

Kiryu hyperventilated, his chest heaving with manic joy. With a violent jerk, he

tore away his blood-stained white shirt.

Beneath the fabric, his porcelain-white skin was free of unnecessary fat. Every

muscle fiber looked like a strand of braided steel, lean, elongated, and primed

for explosive violence. Madness and lethality fused together into a single,

terrifying portrait.

"Ohma... Ohma-kun...!"

Kiryu threw his arms wide, his voice dripping with psychotic adoration. "Come

on!! Let's begin!!"

Whish—!

Without waiting for a response, Kiryu detonated off the dirt. He moved like an

invisible ghost, employing the Fox Shadow style's [SHUN] (Instant) footwork—a

technique that exploited the micro-second a target blinked to manipulate their

blind spots.

Zip-zip!

He closed the distance in a heartbeat, unleashing a blinding flurry of twin palm

strikes.

[RAKSHASA'S PALM]!

Ohma didn't blink. He dropped his weight, his muscles locking into dense,

iron-hard resistance.

[NIKO STYLE: KIMA-KATA - INDESTRUCTIBLE]!

BAM-BAM!

The spinning torque of the palm-strikes slammed into Ohma's chest. The kinetic

energy tried to twist his skin and flesh into a spiraling knot, but the

[INDESTRUCTIBLE] held firm, diffusing the worst of the shearing force.

Still, the friction left two burning, red spiral abrasions across Ohma's

sternum.

Tsk...

Ohma slid back half a step, but he didn't yield. He countered with a high-speed

jab.

"You haven't changed at all, Kiryu," Ohma muttered. "You're still trapped in the

past."

"You don't understand!" Kiryu shrieked, his palms spinning like augurs as he

launched a secondary assault. "The Niko Style made you weak, Ohma-kun! It's a

shackle holding back your true form!"

"If you want to survive me, you have to use [THE ADVANCE]! Use the rampage!

Become the destroyer!"

Whish!

Kiryu's palm grazed Ohma's cheek, the torque tearing a shallow line of blood

through his skin.

Ohma didn't flinch. He channeled the [REDIRECTION KATA], his arms flowing like

water as he caught Kiryu's wrists, redirecting the devastating spin outward into

the empty air.

[FLOWING EDGE]!

Clap!

"The Advance?" Ohma's voice was cool, stripped of all emotion. "I used to rely

on that crutch. But I don't need it anymore."

"I don't need a rampaging heart to find my strength."

"My Master taught me how to live. And that means moving forward, not tearing

myself apart."

Ohma's eyes flared. He twisted his hips, throwing a heavy hook that caught Kiryu

squarely in the ribs.

POW!

The impact knocked the wind out of Kiryu, sending him stumbling back.

Yet Kiryu just laughed—a high, broken sound of absolute bliss. "That punch... It

was too clean! Too soft! That's not the beast I fell in love with!"

"Show me the demon! Show me the monster that tore through my organization!!"

[The Sidelines]

Ren Shiroki leaned against a ruined pillar, arms crossed, watching the exchange

with intense fascination.

"The Rakshasa's Palm..." Ren murmured. "It's essentially a high-torque drill. If

you try to block it with standard muscle tension, your skin and flesh get

unspooled. You have to use [INDESTRUCTIBLE] to match the density, or use

Redirection to slip the torque."

Beside him, Himuro Ryo exhaled smoke. "That guy Kiryu is completely out of his

mind. He's not fighting to win; he's fighting to be murdered."

"Yeah," Ren grinned. "Which makes him the most dangerous kind of opponent. A man

with nothing to lose will always find an extra frame of speed."

In the clearing, Ohma and Kiryu were accelerating.

The ground around them was being torn apart as their feet ground into the dirt,

carving trenches into the earth.

Thud-thud-thud!

Kiryu's strikes were getting faster, his desperation mounting as he realized

Ohma wasn't going to use [THE ADVANCE]. He was relying entirely on the precision

of the Niko Style.

"Why won't you use it?!" Kiryu screamed, his face a mask of tears and blood.

"Are you looking down on me?!"

"No," Ohma replied, his breathing steady, his rhythm unbroken. "I'm just

fighting you the way I am right now."

"Because..."

Ohma's eyes locked onto Kiryu's.

"The me of the next second... will always be stronger than the me of the

present!"

☆☆☆

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