CHAPTER 90: TEN SECONDS
Lead arm extended and slightly curved, rear arm chambered at the waist, feet planted in a wide, staggered stance—Atsushi Katsumi settled into his classic Karate form. Despite the blood leaking from his nose and the vacant look in his eyes, he remained an immovable pillar of focused intent.
He had taken a catastrophic amount of punishment. The [Siberian Express] Power Bomb had rattled his spine and compressed his lungs, leaving him in a concussive haze he couldn't shake.
To return to a state where he could actually win, Katsumi Orochi made a choice.
He chose to run.
By forcing Ren back with a desperate kick and slipping the thrown glass, Katsumi had finally found his own rhythm again.
"Just... like... that..."
Katsumi felt the bleeding in his nose slow to a drip. He looked forward. Through a blurry, red-tinged field of vision, he saw Ren Shiroki drop into a low crouch once more, preparing for a high-speed lunge.
"Ren-kun... I'll show you the ultimate form of self-preservation."
The Referee stepped back. The match resumed.
As Ren dropped low, he gave his head a sharp flick, spraying droplets of blood onto the steel deck. His gaze was a laser, locked onto Katsumi's center of mass.
His leg muscles coiled and released. WHOOSH!
Ren exploded forward, his boots hammering the metal for a high-velocity sliding dash.
[DRIVE IMPACT: SHOCK STRIKE]!
This was the Ryu-style variant of the dash—flexible, utilizing his superior reach, and covering more ground than Jamie's iron-shoulder lunge.
Faced with this lightning-fast approach, Katsumi Orochi had only one move.
ZIP!
He turned on his heel and sprinted. He didn't retreat; he ran in a full, Olympic-style dash toward the far corner of the deck. He cleared several meters in a heartbeat, leaving Ren's punch to whistle through empty air.
"What?!"
The spectators were horrified. "What the hell is this?! He's terrified! He's turning his back on the enemy and fleeing?!"
Ren pivoted, his boots screeching against the steel as he adjusted his trajectory. He launched into a second charge, but Katsumi didn't stop. He navigated the deck in a wide, circling loop, staying just outside Ren's effective reach.
A dash is an explosive burst, but a sprint is a sustained event. Katsumi Orochi was a national-level athlete in track and field. Over a short distance, he was virtually untouchable.
"They're both so fast, but..."
Kaiji Itou stared in disbelief. "Is that Karate master's 'Ultimate Technique' literally just... being able to run a hundred meters in under ten seconds?!"
Kyara let out a cold snort from the sidelines. "Tch. Spitting blood while running for his life? The Shinshinkai elite have lost all their dignity."
But Yagyo Hikoichi offered a shallow smile. "Kyara-dono, a blade that is too rigid snaps. Your combat style is a hurricane of violence, but one must watch for the 'Safety' of the opponent."
The old gentleman watched Katsumi's desperate circle. "It is not a retreat. It is a 'Refuge.' And it's working. Look at his breath. He is 'Coming Back' frame by frame."
Ren realized he couldn't catch the giant with a standard dash. He abandoned his starting stance and committed to a pure, uncoordinated tackle.
WHOOSH!
[DRIVE RUSH]!
Because he was in the "Inner Circle" of the deck, Ren had less ground to cover. By cutting the angle and sacrificing his form for raw speed, he finally managed to pin Katsumi against the ship's primary ventilation shaft.
They met in a high-tension clinch. In the blur of the collision, Katsumi threw a panic-punch.
But as his fist tightened, it stopped mid-air. Ren had moved first, slamming his heavy boot onto the bridge of Katsumi's foot, pinning it to the deck.
[ZANGIEF: POWER STOMP]!
Katsumi's face contorted with pain, but he gritted his teeth. He used his arms to lock Ren's lead arm and used the momentum of his own fall to throw Ren over his shoulder.
A one-handed shoulder throw!
It was a hurried, sloppy move. It didn't do any real damage, but it succeeded in creating space. Ren hit the deck and immediately rolled into a defensive guard. Katsumi, however, didn't follow up. He turned and sprinted away again, resetting the distance.
"!?!"
The crowd erupted in jeers. "He's still running?! How much time does he need to fully recover?!"
Katsumi wiped the blood from his lip. The throbbing in his foot was fading, his breathing was becoming a steady pulse, and the "static" in his vision was clearing.
Exactly.
He ground his teeth, a pained but triumphant smirk appearing on his face.
I would rather crawl in the dirt and be called a coward than lose! I'm doing whatever it takes to win!
Just... ten more seconds.
Katsumi watched Ren charge again. He focused every neuron on the youth's movements.
If I can survive ten seconds without a direct hit, my system will be back online!
Nine...!
Ren lunged.
Katsumi tried to time another shoulder throw, but Ren shifted mid-step. He didn't punch; he turned his back and slammed his 97kg frame into Katsumi's chest.
[DRIVE IMPACT: IRON MOUNTAIN]!
WHOOSH!
Faced with the crushing weight of the tackle, Katsumi jumped. He planted his boots on Ren's shoulders, executed a perfect front-flip, and landed behind him.
Seven...!
Katsumi found his footing, but Ren's eyes were already on him. The blood-streaked pupils locked onto the giant as Ren executed a high-tension spinning heel kick.
[RYU: TORNADO KICK]!
THUD.
Katsumi raised his forearms. He absorbed the impact for a single frame, but he didn't counter. He used the force of the kick to propel himself backward, bouncing into another high-speed retreat.
Four...!
After a few more frantic steps, Katsumi stopped. He didn't show his back this time. He stood in the center of the deck and settled into a perfect, focused Karate stance.
Three...!
Ren tightened his fists. He slammed his rear foot into the deck and lunged one last time.
Ren's fist whistled through the air, closing the gap to Katsumi's face.
But as the knuckles reached a point twenty centimeters from Katsumi's nose, the punch stopped. Ren froze.
Katsumi remained in his stance, looking at the fist, then up at Ren's face. A genuine, broad smile spread across the giant's lips.
"I knew it. Shiroki-san... you really are the real deal. You have the 'Scent' of the monsters from the Dome."
"You were right to stop."
"My system is 100% back online."
Katsumi's chin tucked in, his voice dropping to a low, resonant hum. "If you had finished that strike, I was going to counter with a 'Fist' I only recently learned."
"It's not as polished as my Karate, but it's a beautiful piece of work. I've been dying to test it."
"I learned it from the man who dismantled me... the Fist Master, Retsu Kaioh."
Katsumi looked into Ren's eyes. He saw the "Hunger" there. He realized Ren hadn't stopped because he was tired. He had stopped because he wanted to see the move.
"Oi... Shiroki-kun. That look in your eye... don't tell me you're actually waiting for it?"
"Heh... I really am!"
Ren burst into a laugh. "Nice! Simply perfect!"
Ren didn't retreat. He pulled his arm back, finishing the wind-up of his previous punch. He aimed directly for Katsumi's head and launched a full-power strike.
ZIP!
The microsecond before the impact, Katsumi exploded. His right fist blurred in a short-range, linear thrust that connected squarely with Ren's face.
BOOM!
Ren's world tilted. His lips and eyelids vibrated under the force. He was launched backward, tumbling across the deck in a spray of blood and spit.
The sudden, violent reversal stunned the crowd.
Madarame Baku turned to Kyara, seeking a professional diagnosis.
Kyara's eyes were narrowed, his expression dark with respect.
"That wasn't Karate," Kyara whispered.
"That strike... that 'Thrust-Technique'... was pure Chinese Kung Fu."