CHAPTER 176: SATISFYING THE FETISH
A few days after the incident, Yota Murakami (44), a veteran Referee for the
Kengan Association, sat in a bar with a colleague. As he sipped his drink, he
began to recount the events of that blood-soaked night in the park.
"You're asking about the long-haired man who appeared after Shiroki beat Speck?"
"Ah... him."
Murakami stared into his glass, a shudder running through his frame.
"That was Mitsuyo Kureishi. He's the master of the young prodigy, Cosmo Imai. In
the underworld, they call him 'The Freak.'"
"Kureishi fought in the pits for years, but he never stayed with one employer.
He claimed he was just looking for 'pocket change.' But if you ask me? It's
because no fighter in their right mind would agree to step into a ring with him
twice."
"His style is... unique. It isn't designed to win a sport. It is designed to
satisfy a very specific Fetish."
The Referee pointed to his own right knee.
"Speck's knee was dislocated in a heartbeat. I saw the bone tenting beneath the
skin. It was the kind of injury that makes a grown man vomit from the visual
alone."
The Amusement Zone.
"Yo! Good evening~!"
Mitsuyo Kureishi patted Speck on the shoulder, a cheerful, light-hearted grin on
his face. "Thanks for looking after my student. You really gave him a night
he'll never forget."
"...?"
Speck blinked, his vision still hazy from Ren's barrage. A cold sweat broke out
on his brow as the pain in his knee finally registered.
Kureishi's fingers began to sink into the giant's shoulder muscles. "Don't
worry, don't worry. Dislocating a knee is just the introduction. We haven't even
gotten to the part where the bones start to snap~!"
"HRAA—!?"
Speck snapped out of his daze. From his seated position, he launched a
desperate, jagged punch at Kureishi's face.
Kureishi tilted his head with the grace of a dancer. He caught Speck's wrist
mid-swing, using the giant's own momentum to guide the arm into an extension.
"To move that fast while dying? Shiroki-kun really did a number on you, but
you're still a monster, aren't you?"
"Fortunately for me... my 'Might' works differently than Ren-kun's."
Kureishi stepped half a pace forward, leaning his entire weight into the
extension. He drove his palm into the back of Speck's tricep, forcing the
giant's arm to rise until it hit a biological dead-end.
"To Ren-kun, combat is a proof of existence."
"To a convict like you, victory is the theft of a life."
"Therefore, in your world, dirty tricks and weapons are all permitted."
"But what I want to do... it has nothing to do with your war."
Kureishi's lips curled into a twisted, ecstatic smirk. His body began to vibrate
with a high-frequency excitement.
"I just want to break you, Speck. I want to hear the music of your skeleton
failing!"
ZIP!
Kureishi stomped his heel into Speck's right thigh. At the same time, he twisted
his torso, yanking the giant's right arm into a spiral.
CRACK!
In one synchronized motion, Speck's right shoulder, elbow, and wrist were all
dislocated.
"The entire arm went limp in a single frame," Murakami recalled.
"In a standard match, a joint-lock is a 'Finisher.' It marks the end of the
match. The Referee steps in, the fighter taps, and the drama is over."
"But imagine a world without referees. Imagine what happens when a master is
allowed to finish the hold."
"It was a sound I'll never forget. A series of dry, sharp cracks. Like someone
snapping old, frozen branches."
"Eh? You're asking if it was just 'Rough Jiu-Jitsu'?"
The Referee shook his head, his face pale. "No... you still don't understand why
he's called 'The Freak.'"
"Breaking a human body... it gives Mitsuyo Kureishi a level of pleasure that
normal humans can't comprehend. It is a biological reaction. He... well... he
gets aroused by the snap."
"Thank you for the data!"
Kureishi discarded Speck's ruined right arm. He dropped low, his hands clamping
onto the giant's right ankle.
Speck was flipped onto his stomach, his face grinding into the concrete. He
tried to scramble away, but the world was spinning.
SHING!
Kureishi vaulted over Speck's back. He settled into a standing variant of the
Cross-Armbreaker, but instead of an arm, he had Speck's right leg cradled in his
lap. He arched his back with a surge of "Might."
CRACK-SHATTER!
The knee joint didn't just dislocate; it was folded backward. An Open Fracture
erupted from the interior of the leg, jagged white bone shards tearing through
the skin.
Murakami gestured with his hands.
"Kureishi coiled around him like a boa constrictor. Speck tried to fight back,
but... honestly? After the first few snaps, it was no longer a fight. It was a
harvest."
"Ren Shiroki and Doppo Orochi are warriors who give you a 'Warrior's Defeat.'
But Kureishi? He gives you an 'Anatomical Burial.'"
The Referee rubbed his chin.
"Speck's arm and leg were gone. I thought it was over. But the convict had one
last card to play."
"He covered his eyes with his one good hand."
"And in that instant, he threw a flashbang. A trophy he'd stolen from the
special ops unit. The 'Police-Grade' light was blinding. It turned the plaza
into a white void."
"Human instinct, regardless of gender or strength, is to curl up when blinded.
To protect the face."
The Referee's eyes narrowed.
"But Kureishi's instincts aren't human. To him, people aren't 'Faces.' They are
'Skeletons.'"
"In the middle of that blinding white light, Kureishi didn't cover his eyes. He
reached out into the void. Guided by the 'Rhythm' of Speck's bones, he caught
the giant's remaining leg and snapped it at the hip."
"But while he was breaking the leg, Speck managed to scramble behind him. He
used his one functional arm to lock Kureishi in a one-armed rear-naked choke. He
used his jaw to clamp down on his own wrist, completing the loop."
"A one-armed kill-choke. With Speck's mass, it should have been over."
"But Kureishi possesses more than just 'Joint-Locks.'"
"I heard a rumor once from a senior at the Rokushin Kaikan about Kureishi's
secret tech."
The Referee held his palm flat.
"The Wai-geki—The Distortion Strike."
"He's mastered the inverse of bone-setting massage. He applies a specific,
jarring vibration to the muscle tissue that induces instant, high-tension
'Rigidity.' It causes the muscle to harden and compress the underlying nerves."
"It's a strike that disables the body without breaking the skin."
Murakami lowered his voice.
"At point-blank range, Kureha delivered a Distortion Strike to Speck's remaining
bicep. The arm went dead. The fingers uncurled. The 'Perfect Machine' was
broken."
"Then Kureishi turned around. He caught Speck by the throat and applied the
Distortion Strike directly to the larynx and the cervical vertebrae."
"The sound it made... it wasn't a crack. It was a Crumple."
"I don't think all the surgeons in Tokyo could put that neck back together."
The Present.
Speck lay in the dirt, his limbs bent into impossible, geometric shapes. Blood
leaked from his nose and mouth in a slow, rhythmic drip. He gave three final,
shallow tremors before his light finally faded.
"Hoo... good thing he's still breathing," Kureishi said, wiping his hands on his
trousers.
As a "Normal" professional athlete, he really didn't want a murder charge on his
record. Since the target was a death-row inmate, he figured a "Lesson in
Anatomy" was perfectly legal.
"Mhm. That seems reasonable~!"
Kureishi stood up and walked over to Ren Shiroki, who was leaning against a
pillar. He helped steady his friend.
"Whoa, Ren-kun. You really made a mess of yourself. You've lost half your
teeth!"
Kureishi grinned. "Want me to recommend a dentist? I've got a guy who fixed me
and Cosmo up after the tournament. He's great with 'Combat-Related' trauma."
Ren spat out a mouthful of pink saliva. "Nice. Simply perfect."
The two friends stood together for a moment, letting the adrenaline fade.
Then, Fusui Kure and Motobe Izo descended from the hillside to meet them.
"Ren-chin! You're still standing!"
Fusui strolled over and immediately took over the duties of propping Ren up. She
spared a glance at the human pretzel in the corner. "Ooh. Kureishi-senpai really
went to town, didn't he?"
Kureishi waved a hand. "Keep it a secret, okay? I have a 'Healthy Sensei' image
to maintain for Cosmo!"
Kureishi departed shortly after, claiming he had an early morning appointment at
the clinic. Once he was gone, Fusui looked at Ren, her black-and-white eyes
sparkling.
"Alright, Ren-chin. Destination: Hospital. After that? I'm continuing our date."
Ren: "..."
Ren: "Wait. I think I'm misinterpreting 'Date' in this context."
Fusui giggled, her arm firm around his waist. "If you're lucky and nothing is
broken, we'll get a private suite at a nice hotel. I've been wanting to test
your 'Vibration' up close."
Ren: "..." Ren: "This is bad. My life is in danger."
But having just finished a deathmatch with a 500lb monster, Ren didn't have the
"Might" left to resist. He allowed himself to be dragged toward the parking lot.
"Wait," Ren rasped. "I need Motobe-san's card."
"Already got it for you!" Fusui chirped.
In the blink of an eye, the three of them—and the official Referee—vanished into
the night.
Motobe Izo stood alone in the plaza, looking at the silent Ferris wheel. He felt
a bit left out; he'd had a dozen tactical critiques he wanted to share.
He lit a cigarette and sighed. "Youth these days... no patience at all."
Five minutes later, the "Patient" Motobe Izo was nearly arrested.
A fleet of police cruisers roared into the park, riot squads spilling out to
secure the area and reclaim Speck.
If Motobe hadn't been a master of the "Environment," vanishing into the branches
of a nearby tree like a shadow, he'd be spending the night in a holding cell.
"Hoo...!"
Motobe crouched on a high branch, his presence completely erased. He watched the
officers struggle to lift Speck's folded body onto a reinforced stretcher.
"That was close," he whispered. "I guess being 'Patient' has its risks, too."
☆☆☆
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