CHAPTER 149: DEFYING MEDICAL LOGIC!
"Ugh... BLEH!"
Ren Shiroki's jaw was locked in a grimace of pure agony, but he couldn't stop the violent convulsions of his stomach. He coughed up thick, translucent bile onto the sand, his knees trembling as he fought to stay upright.
The only saving grace was the lack of blood in the vomit. It meant his internal organs had taken a massive concussive shock, but hadn't quite ruptured.
...Not yet.
"I really couldn't bring you down without this move," Kureha Shinogi said, his voice regaining its cold, clinical edge.
He didn't wait for Ren to recover. He stalked forward, closing the distance as Ren struggled for air. Kureha held up his palms, splaying his fingers.
"A light tap with the knuckle to the interior of the elbow causes temporary neural paralysis. It's a higher-difficulty maneuver than an eye-gouge, but as a 'First Contact' strike, it's terminal. It strips the defender of their shield."
"And then... a palm-thrust from a 30-degree upward angle creates a harmonic vibration in the digestive lining. It turns the stomach into a bag of shaking liquid."
As Kureha spoke, his fingers shifted. He blurred to the side, his right hand snapping forward in a "Half-Palm" strike.
BAP!
The tips of his fingers buried themselves deep under Ren's ribcage. The pain was sickening—it felt as if the doctor were reaching inside Ren's torso to manually stir his viscera.
"GAHHH—!"
Ren clutched his side and back-pedaled, his boots skidding through the sand. He hit the wooden railing and stood there trembling, his face a mask of absolute suffering.
"By the same logic," Kureha continued, "a strike to the right side at a 60-degree angle makes the liver quite... unhappy."
These two strikes didn't carry the "Mass" of a Zangief punch or the "Sound" of a Mach kick. But they were devastatingly effective.
Nozomi Tenma stared in horror. "Senpai... what just happened? Ren-kun took a body blow and looks like he's dying! Is it some kind of poison?"
Mitsuyo Kureishi rubbed his chin. "Anyone who studies the 'Might' of the body eventually runs into Anatomy. But Kureha? He's a Master of the Vessel."
"He understands that the human body is essentially a water pillow," Kureishi analyzed. "He's not just hitting Ren-kun; he's using Percussive Shockwaves to bypass the muscle and hit the hardware directly."
"It's the medical version of Northern Style Kung Fu!" Doppo Orochi added, his eyes narrowing.
"Karate turns the fist into a stone to break the body and the bone. But Northern Style Kung Fu? It aims to 'Turn the Man into Water.'"
"They believe the fluids in the body can absorb an impact. But they also know how to use that water to carry a shockwave. By hitting at specific angles, they create a ripple that tears the internal organs apart without breaking the skin."
Doppo looked toward the VIP seating where Retsu Kaioh sat.
"That technique is the crystallization of centuries of experience. But for Kureha Shinogi? He spends every day cutting people open and massaging hearts. He knows the internal vulnerabilities of the human species better than anyone alive."
"This is the Dashin—The Concussive Vibration!"
The announcer screamed: "THE LEGENDARY DOCTOR STRIKE! HE'S TURNING SHIROKI'S INTERNAL ORGANS INTO A VIBRATING DISASTER!"
"Ren Shiroki's body is a bronze bell, and Kureha is the hammer! His blood and guts are in a state of terminal chaos!"
"But... HE'S STILL STANDING! Can the Unbound Soul find his rhythm before his heart stops?!"
Kureha had no intention of giving him that chance.
He stepped half a pace forward, his left palm flat against Ren's face, his right palm poised right behind it.
POP-THUD!!!
The second Dashin connected. It hit with a heavy, muffled sound like a wet sack of flour hitting a deck.
BOOM!!
Ren's face took the full force of the vibration. The blood in his head felt like it had reached a boiling point. Crimson geysered from his ears, nose, and eyes simultaneously.
His knees buckled. His balance was gone.
"He's doing it again!" Kosho Shinogi hissed, his teeth bared. "Direct concussive trauma to the facial nerves! My Ani-ki is showing no mercy tonight!"
"Wait! Look!" Baki Hanma shouted.
Kureha's left hand dropped. He pressed it against Ren's abdomen. His right hand followed up with a third and final Dashin.
THOOM!!!
A visible wave of energy rippled through Ren's abdominal muscles. The flesh actually "wobbled" like the surface of a pond.
Ren let out a strangled cry and sprayed a mist of blood. His body entered a state of involuntary, high-frequency tremors. His eyes rolled back into his head, showing only the bloodshot whites.
He looked like a corpse suspended in the air by invisible wires. He wasn't conscious. He wasn't breathing.
And yet... his feet remained anchored in the sand. He didn't fall.
"Hoo... huff..."
Kureha finally stopped. He stood in front of his "Patient" for several seconds, his chest heaving. He looked at Ren's ruined face and let out a soft, respectful sigh.
"Three consecutive Dashin strikes... and you still won't hit the deck. You're truly a biological miracle, Ren-kun."
"In this arena, there are only a handful of warriors who can stand after a total systemic shock. Tonight, we add a new name to the ledger."
Kureha turned his back, raising a hand to the crowd. He prepared to walk toward his corner and wait for the Referee to count Ren out.
But then... a spike of pure, freezing terror hit his spine.
"!?!"
Kureha's body reacted before his mind. He grabbed his own left bicep, his fingers digging into the muscle.
The deltoid was throbbing with an agonizing, sharp heat. It wasn't just pain—it was an Alarm. His body's primal instincts were screaming at his brain: DANGER! DANGER!
"What... what is this?"
His "Perfect Body"—the vessel he had scientifically perfected to be immune to fear—was currently having a panic attack.
Kureha spun around.
Ren Shiroki had stopped trembling.
Through the mask of boiling blood and the ruined features of his face, Ren's eyes were open. They were glowing with a terrifying, scarlet radiance. His pupils were vibrating with a manic frequency, but they were locked onto one thing:
Kureha's left bicep.
"Is his consciousness... manual-overriding the organ failure?" Kureha whispered, his breath hitching.
He settled back into an offensive stance, but for the first time in his life, he felt a cold shudder run through his frame.
"From a medical perspective... this is impossible..."
Kureha stared into Ren's bloodshot gaze.
In the reflection of those scarlet pupils, the doctor saw only his own left arm.
My body is at 100% heat, Kureha thought, his heart hammering. I'm facing a man on the verge of total collapse. So why... why do I feel like I'm the one who's being hunted?
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