CHAPTER 11: THE CHOSEN FEW
Fusui Kure was a junior, but she was no amateur. Metsudo Katahara had no intention of stopping her from digging deeper.
"IDEAL... like the diamond cut? Is it a codename?"
Fusui committed the name to memory and gave Metsudo a respectful nod of thanks.
"Ho ho!"
Metsudo's tension vanished, his posture relaxing as he glanced over at Arisa. She was trying to tend to Ren's wounds, but she was clearly out of her depth. Simple first aid was fine for a scrape, but Ren needed professional-grade medical attention.
The casino was nearly empty now. The Zanshi-gumi thugs had vanished along with their boss, and no one was left to look after the "winner."
"This won't do."
Metsudo gestured to one of his bodyguards. The man stepped forward, opening a professional trauma kit to help bandage Ren.
As the Chairman of the Kengan Association, Metsudo enjoyed looking after the next generation of fighters—especially one as gifted as Ren Shiroki.
"The youth of today—fighters and CEOs alike—are becoming quite fascinating. I don't think I'll be bored for a long time..."
Metsudo waited patiently until Ren was patched up, then turned to leave.
"Tonight was a blast! Thanks for the show, everyone!"
The old man's vitality was infectious as he disappeared into the night.
With the heavy hitters gone, the underground casino felt hollow. Arisa stayed by her brother's side, while the Kure sisters hung around to keep them company.
Once the riff-raff had cleared out, the two Teiai agents—the men in the black suits—approached Ren.
"Ren-san."
Their tone was surprisingly respectful. They were corporate debt collectors, not street thugs. For them, the Zanshi-gumi was just a subcontractor; their real loyalty was to the contract and the bottom line.
"Please rest easy. The agreement you signed is valid. However, the exact details of your debt reduction are currently being calculated. We ask for your patience."
One of the agents handed Ren a business card and gave a slight bow.
"The Zanshi-gumi appears to have overstepped their bounds. We need to report this back to headquarters... Regardless, we will contact you soon for a formal meeting."
Ren took the card and nodded.
Unlike the Yakuza, the Teiai Group was a "legitimate" evil. They operated like a corporation. Given the mysterious "IDEAL" syndicate and the involvement of the Kengan Association, it made sense that low-level clerks couldn't finalize the paperwork immediately.
Ren decided to wait and see.
It was deep into the night when the group left the resort.
Fusui drove, with Karura and Arisa in the back, and Ren in the passenger seat. They transitioned from the chaos and darkness of the underworld back into the neon-lit, bustling streets of central Tokyo.
Watching the neon signs blur past, Arisa felt like she was in a dream. Everything that happened tonight felt like it belonged in a movie.
She looked at her brother. He was out cold.
He was sprawled against the seat, snoring softly. Aside from the bandages on his forehead, he looked remarkably peaceful for someone who had just survived a deathmatch.
The car hit a small bump, causing Ren to stir. His eyes fluttered open for a second, a flash of the night's fight crossing his mind, and he let out a satisfied murmur.
"Nice... that was great..."
Hearing his sleepy mutterings, Arisa remembered that before his illness, Ren was always like this—a ridiculously optimistic hot-head. She was happy to have the "real" Ren back, but his bloody, grinning face in the ring still haunted her.
"It's a good thing... right?" she whispered.
The car pulled up in front of the Shiroki property.
Fusui woke Ren up. As they were saying their goodbyes, she pulled out another business card and pressed it into his hand.
"That's my personal number."
Fusui gave him a playful wink with her black-and-white eyes. "If you ever need someone... taken care of, give me a call. I'll give you the family discount!"
"..."
Ren wasn't sure if he should be thankful or terrified. The siblings shared a look before Ren tucked the card away and gave a stiff, awkward smile of thanks.
After the Kure girls drove off, the siblings washed up and collapsed into their respective shacks.
Lying on his bed, Ren began to strategize. The Teiai debt wasn't fully gone yet, their living conditions were terrible, and he needed to figure out his next move with the Kengan Association.
Despite the mountain of problems, his head was clear.
Fist.
Ren tightened his right hand. In the darkness, he saw the ink-wash phantom of Ryu. Their fists met in a silent bump.
"Yeah," Ren whispered as sleep took him. "I want to fight again..."
The Next Morning.
Ren woke up and checked his wounds. They were healing at an unnatural rate—another perk of his recovery. He immediately started his morning routine.
He knew that to face the Kengan Association, the Teiai Group, or this "IDEAL" organization, he needed more than just luck. He needed overwhelming strength.
He couldn't do high-intensity training yet, so he spent the morning diving into his memories. He focused on Ryu and the other shadows looming behind him.
Snap! Snap!
Ren threw crisp straight punches into the air, warming up his muscles.
As his spirit focused, the Sumi-e phantom of Ryu appeared. He stood in a perfect stance, offering no openings. But this time, Ryu didn't attack.
"I've fixed the 'Evasive Error,' so he's not punishing me anymore?"
No words were needed. Ren gave the phantom a small nod. "Thank you, Sensei."
Ryu's phantom gave a stoic nod of approval, then stepped forward, showing an active intent to spar.
"Is he going to feed me some real combinations now?"
Ren noticed more shadows watching from the periphery. They were varied in size and posture, though still blurry.
"Other masters? If I keep training, will I get to spar with the rest of the Street Fighter roster?!"
The thought made Ren's heart race with excitement.
By afternoon, Arisa was home from school.
Kozue had left early to help her mom with groceries, so only Karura had walked her home. They found Fusui "wandering" nearby. Arisa suspected she was spying, but she didn't mind.
The three girls sat on a row of stools in the yard, eating ice cream and watching Ren train.
"..."
Arisa looked at the bandage on Ren's head and sighed. She hugged her knees, her voice a bit pouty. "Why does he have to push himself so hard? I can help with the debt..."
Fusui shook her head. "Maybe Ren-chin just wants to do this."
Arisa looked confused. "Why?"
"Even in the Kure Clan, there are guys like him," Fusui said, looking back at her memories. "The degree varies, but at some point, every boy dreams of being the 'Strongest on Earth.'"
"But almost everyone gives up on that dream. They get beaten in a playground fight, they get intimidated by a bully, they realize their dad is stronger, they get yelled at by a boss, or they just get tired of the pain."
"Countless people choose other dreams. They become doctors, politicians, artists, or salarymen."
"But there is a tiny, stubborn handful of people who—no matter what happens or who they meet—never let go of that original dream."
Fusui gave a lopsided grin. "Heh. It's a bit stupid, but it's also pretty cool, right?"
After the Kure girls left, the sun began to set.
It was Arisa's turn to cook dinner. She was about to start when a sleek black sedan pulled up to the dojo gate.
Ren stopped his training and wiped his sweat with a towel. He told Arisa to go inside and do her homework while he handled the visitors.
A middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair stepped out of the car. He wore a sharp khaki trench coat over a high-end suit. His hair was slicked back, his facial features were carved like stone, and his expression was dead serious.
From the window, Arisa heard the man introduce himself to her brother.
"A pleasure to finally meet you."
The man extended a hand toward Ren. His voice was deep and authoritative.
"My name is Yukio Tonegawa. I am here on behalf of the Teiai Group."