CHAPTER 145: ANATOMICAL DESTRUCTION!
"!?!"
Even with his palm acting as a shield, Ren Shiroki felt his internal organs churning as if they'd been struck by an industrial drill. He was lifted off his feet, the air in his lungs replaced by a sudden, violent urge to retch.
SHING!
Ren was airborne, suspended by the shockwave of Kureha's monstrous power.
Kureha looked up, winding up a horizontal hook to finish the flight. But to the doctor's surprise, Ren's eyes snapped into focus instantly. The youth's recovery speed was physically impossible.
CRUNCH.
In mid-air, Ren had deliberately bitten through the tip of his own tongue. The sudden jolt of neurological agony acted like a bucket of ice water, forcing his "Might" to reboot.
WHAP!
Ren slammed his rear foot against the top of the wooden perimeter railing. Using the solid surface as a springboard, he vaulted even higher into the dome, clearing Kureha's reach.
He adjusted his center of gravity mid-fall, twisting his torso to launch a diving kick.
[JAMIE: FREEFLOW KICK]!
ZIP!
The erratic, spiraling kick whistled toward Kureha's skull. The doctor executed a high-speed back-step to slip the arc. The instant Ren's feet hit the sand, Kureha lunged back in, firing a rapid-fire left-right hook combination.
BAM! BAM!
Ren's face took the hits. Blood sprayed from his nose and mouth, splattering the front row of the stands.
Concussive static flooded his brain. Agony screamed in his jaw.
Seeing Kureha wind up for a terminal follow-up, Ren's pupils began to vibrate with a manic frequency. He manual-overrode his pain receptors. The [ENGINE] redlined.
He shifted into Ryu's foundation. He stepped deep into the pocket, his left arm sweeping in a horizontal arc to parry Kureha's momentum, while his left elbow drove forward like a spear.
[DRIVE COUNTER: PIERCING ELBOW]!
SHING!
The microsecond before the elbow connected with Kureha's throat, the doctor shifted his stance. He didn't block; he caught the strike on his massive pectoral muscle, tensing the tissue into a wall of solid biological armor.
THUD.
The impact was heavy, but Kureha only retreated a single step. His posture didn't break. The shallow lacerations on his forearms had already stopped bleeding—his body was a self-sealing fortress.
"Nothing is working...?"
Ren spat a mouthful of gore, his breathing becoming a series of metallic gasps.
Even though he had mentally prepared himself, facing Kureha Shinogi in the flesh was a lesson in the reality of the "Super-Physique."
It was as Takeshi Wakatsuki had warned.
In terms of pure, raw "Might," Kureha was on par with Kaoru Hanayama. But unlike the Yakuza Boss, who relied on the survival aesthetic of a tank, Kureha was a "Scientific Masterpiece." He had the mass of a monster, yet he possessed the technical agility to dodge and parry.
His durability wasn't just meat; it was calculated biological resistance.
"That doctor... his body is the ultimate crystallization of human science!"
Fusui Kure gripped the railing of the VIP box, her [Removal] active. "In terms of pure physical efficiency, he's on the same tier as my brother, Raian, when he's at 100% output!"
"Exactly," Baki Hanma noted, his eyes locked on the ring. He had fought Kureha before, and he knew the weight of those hands.
Baki tightened his own fists, mimicking the stance Ren had used earlier—the [SOLID PUNCHER].
"Shiroki-san's style is brilliant. It uses explosive muscle recruitment to turn his limbs into blades—it's very similar to Shinogi-style Karate."
"Against a normal opponent, those 'Hand-Blades' would have ended the fight by now. They'd be shredded."
"But against Kureha? He's wearing a suit of high-density muscle. Combined with his defensive timing, Ren-kun is essentially trying to cut through a truck tire with a steak knife."
"To just draw blood is an achievement. But Shiroki-san is finding out that hitting Kureha is infinitely harder than hitting a sandbag."
Kureha Shinogi, ever the elite warrior, didn't let the "Value" of his advantage go to his head. He became even more cautious.
"Kung Fu, CQC, and now Karate? A magnificent speed-blitz, Ren-kun. However..."
"I have seen the limit of your 'Blades.' I will no longer allow you the luxury of a graze."
Kureha dropped his center of gravity. He pulled his core tight, his elbows tucked against his ribs to protect his organs, his forearms raised in a tight, narrow guard.
He used a low-center stance—knees turned inward, groin shielded, forming a biological triangle of unyielding power.
His massive muscles rippled with every breath, bulging like plates of high-tensile armor. He didn't just take a stance; he became a Muscle Fortress. The air around him seemed to thicken with the pressure of his biological presence.
"That's a boxing 'Crouch' variation," Nozomi whispered. "But it's too intense... he's a mountain of meat!"
Ren blurred forward, his boots kicking up sand as he executed a high-speed shuffle. He led with what looked like a standard Karate straight punch.
But the moment he entered the pocket, his rhythm shifted. He unleashed a heavy right hook that arced downward.
[LUKE: RAWHIDE]!
WHAP!
The fist slammed into Kureha's left deltoid. The massive muscle absorbed the impact like a lead weight, suffering zero structural damage. Instead, the contact gave Kureha the leverage he needed.
He rotated his torso and lunged with a shoulder-check.
BOOM!
Ren was hit by a two-ton biological battering ram. The impact was a total-body shockwave.
It was a move born of American Football, perfected by Kureha's "Might." Even a heavyweight pro-wrestler would have been launched by that strike.
"GAH—!"
Ren was thrown backward. His balance was erased. He back-flipped through the air from the sheer kinetic energy, finally skidding to a halt on his stomach. Every bone in his body felt like it was on fire.
He didn't have time to recover. A spike of danger hit his spine. He looked up to see Kureha already mid-sprint.
ZIP!
Kureha slide forward, his eyes locked on Ren's head. He launched a high-velocity soccer kick.
WHOOSH!
Ren slammed his palms into the sand and vaulted to the side. He popped back to his feet and began to circle, trying to open the distance.
But Kureha was faster. He pulled his leg back and executed a high-speed lateral shuffle, cutting Ren off before the youth could even take two steps.
SHING!
Kureha pivoted on his heel and unleashed a mid-level roundhouse. It caught Ren in the side of the waist.
THOOM!
Ren was launched across the ring once more, crashing into the sand near the far fence.
"The physical gap is too wide!"
Fusui's knuckles were white. "Kureha has the power of a heavyweight boxer and the mobility of an Olympic sprinter! It's a cheat code!"
"Indeed," Baki Hanma nodded. "But in a struggle for existence... there is always a way to break the math."
Kureha marched toward the downed Ren. He reached out a massive hand, aiming to grab Ren by the hair and hoist him up for a terminal slam.
But as the hand closed in, Ren's left arm shot up from the sand. He didn't block; he braced his hand against the floor, creating a pivot. His left foot snapped forward, slamming into the deck to anchor his torque.
BOOM!
The stomp was so powerful it left a visible depression in the packed sand.
"HRAAAGH!"
Ren roared. His right leg followed through, his coiled core exploding like a high-tension spring. He launched himself upward from the crouch, his right fist rocketing into a vertical arc.
[RYU: SHORYUKEN]!
THUD!
Kureha raised his left arm in a desperate block. The rising fist slammed into his bicep. The "Might" behind the strike was so immense it actually threatened to uproot the 131kg giant.
"!?!"
Kureha staggered back, his eyes wide with a mix of shock and delight. He had finally felt a strike that resonated with his own level of power.
"Aha! Pure physical mass can't decide the outcome after all!" Baki grinned. "Kureha-san has finally realized that he can't win this with biology alone."
Kureha dropped low, lunging back toward Ren with a high-speed jab.
Ren raised his arms to defend, but his "Engine" noticed something wrong. The trajectory of Kureha's punch was off. He wasn't aiming for the face; he had "Softened" the strike.
"!?!"
Before Ren could adjust, Kureha's fist "tapped" the inner side of Ren's right elbow. It was a light, almost delicate strike.
But the effect was instantaneous. Ren's right forearm went completely numb, his nerves short-circuiting as if they'd been hit by a high-voltage wire. His guard fell open.
Kureha didn't miss the window. He pushed his left palm forward, the strike angled slightly upward to bypass the ribs and target the soft tissue of the solar plexus.
THOOM.
A single, muffled impact.
Ren's world went white. He retched, a slurry of translucent fluid and blood spraying from his mouth as the air was forcibly evacuated from his body.
"It connected!" Kosho Shinogi shouted, his arms crossed.
"The Super-Precision Anatomical Destruction! Only a master of medicine like my Ani-ki could land a strike like that!"
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