Chapter 278: Ring Drills
Even just as a bystander, the training methods of Super Japan Pro-Wrestling were
the kind that made one break into a sympathetic sweat. For a professional
combatant, they were enough to set the blood on fire.
High-speed rope climbing, explosive push-ups, neck-breaking German suplex
bridges, and a relentless volume of Hindu squats—and all of that was just the
Warm-up.
The wrestlers—especially those in the elite SJPW unit led by Kugo Kurachi—forged
their bodies through these unscientific, hellish drills to attain what they
called "Resilient Muscle." It wasn't just for show; it was muscle designed to
absorb impact and keep moving.
[...]
In Ren's mind, the ink-wash lines swirled violently. The phantom of Zangief
stood behind him, clapping his massive palms together to cheer his student on,
practically pushing Ren toward the mats.
Ren Shiroki put his hands on his hips, looking at the scene with a pained grin.
"Being personally invited by Kurachi-san... I can't exactly say no, can I?"
Ren bounced on the balls of his feet, his eyes drifting toward the central
wrestling ring. "So, what's the protocol? How do we scrap in your world?"
Seeing Ren look at the ring rather than the conditioning zone, Jose Kanzaki—the
tall, masked "4D Latin American"—couldn't help but chuckle.
The Mexican-born powerhouse had been a young prospect years ago during the
"Street Fight Incident" alongside Mitsuyo Kureishi (The Freak). Now, he was a
seasoned veteran whose skills in the ring were reaching a new peak.
"Ren-kun, you're just like Kureishi-senpai," Jose said with a helpless shrug.
"You subconsciously think wrestling is just another way to have a back-alley
brawl. It doesn't work like that!"
Jose shook his head. "Conditioning with us? Sure. A private spar? I'm game. But
stepping into a 'Pro-Wrestling Ring' is an entirely different logic."
"Mm..."
Ren looked disappointed. "Can we at least do some technical flow-drills? I
haven't tangled with a heavyweight in a while. I have a lot of new ideas I want
to test out."
Jose looked toward Kurachi. The "God of Pro-Wrestling" smiled and explained: "If
you truly want to experience our world, Ren-kun, you need a script, a persona,
and an audience. True Pro-Wrestling only happens when the struggle is fueled by
the roar of the crowd. A spontaneous match lacks the 'Soul' of the sport."
Kurachi flexed his massive arms. Then his grin turned sharp. "However... this is
a rare opportunity. A 'Ring Practice' session could be arranged."
Hearing this, Ren's eyebrows shot up. Jose's competitive spirit flared
instantly.
"Heh! You're way too indulgent, Senior!"
Jose, who had been leaning against the wall, blurred forward. He pressed a
massive, calloused fist against Ren's chest, giving him a playful, challenging
shove.
"Kureishi-senpai mentioned you every time we grabbed drinks. I've been itching
to see what you're made of, but the SJPW tour schedule is a nightmare. Let's see
that 'Soul Combat' of yours!"
"..."
Ren didn't respond to the shove. Instead, he looked up at the ceiling, murmuring
in a low, hollow tone, "It's a shame 'Hell's Angel' Sekibayashi isn't here. I
was hoping to trade souls with a 'Famous Ace' from both the surface and the
underworld."
The bait was obvious. Ren was essentially saying Jose wasn't on that level yet.
Jose's temper spiked. He sprinted toward a stack of equipment, hooked his foot
under a heavy iron folding chair, and flipped it into the air.
ZIP!
As the chair hung suspended in front of him, Jose unleashed a thunderous heavy
punch, pulverizing the metal frame. Shards of steel whistled through the air,
clattering against the gymnasium wall.
CRUNCH!
Jose tightened his fist, veins bulging across his massive forearm. He glared at
Ren, his teeth gritted. "Just because you're a friend of Kureishi's doesn't mean
you can get cocky with me!"
"..."
Ren remained silent, still staring at the ceiling, playing the part of the
unimpressed protagonist. He acted as if his only regret was not seeing
Sekibayashi.
The atmosphere turned toxic with killing intent. Official Sonoda broke into a
cold sweat, his hand hovering over his radio. He was certain a riot was seconds
away from starting.
But to Sonoda's bewilderment, Fusui Kure was giggling. She looked at the
confrontation as if it were the most entertaining comedy she'd ever seen.
Are the Kure really this obsessed with violence? Sonoda wondered, feeling
trapped between two predators.
Just then, Ren dropped his gaze. His bored expression vanished, replaced by a
wide, mischievous grin. "So, Sonoda-aniki? How was the 'Heat'? Did you feel the
tension?"
Sonoda froze. "...Eh?"
Ren laughed, slapping his thigh. "Everything that just happened was the 'Script'
before the match! You've gotta have a proper build-up if you want it to feel
like Wrestling, right?"
"Specifically, the 'American-style' promo logic," Kurachi added with a chuckle.
"Not quite a perfect execution, but you definitely understand our world,
Ren-kun. Kureishi taught you well!"
Jose Kanzaki pouted, looking slightly annoyed. "Why'd you have to explain it to
the old man? It's like explaining a joke; you ruined the vibe!"
Ren leaned in and whispered to Jose, "Because if I didn't, Sonoda-aniki would
have called in the Riot Squad. Hard to have a match if the building is full of
tear gas."
Jose: "..." Jose: "Fair point!"
To Ren, every moment was a training opportunity. Whether he was at the Hub, the
Plaza, or this gymnasium with a bunch of wrestlers, he viewed the intervals
between combat—including the rest and the banter—as part of his cultivation.
With his mind set, Ren moved to the mats to begin his tactical stretches,
preparing for the session. Fusui watched from the side, enjoying her popsicle.
Gouki Shibukawa, having grown bored with his tea, was about to find a chair to
watch the show. But then, he noticed the heavy bag Ren had struck earlier.
The two clean, deep gashes in the leather caught the [SAINT OF WAR'S] eye.
"Oho... such a sharp fist. It looks like the work of one of those monsters from
the Underground Arena. How terrifying~!"
The old master sighed in mock horror, then looked over at Kugo Kurachi. His
interest was officially piqued. He strolled over to Ren, poking his head out
from behind Fusui.
"Hey, kid. Room for an extra player in this 'Game'?"
The request made everyone—Ren included—pause.
An Aiki Grandmaster playing at Pro-Wrestling?
Kurachi looked troubled. "It's not that we won't have you, Sensei... but
Pro-Wrestling doesn't have ranks or 'Dans'. It isn't a brawl. It's a
performance."
"If a Master like you joins in..."
"Hahaha!"
Shibukawa laughed, waving his hand dismissively. "No matter! Just follow the
rules of the Ring! That old bastard Igari got me all itchy with his talk of 'No
Masters' in Wrestling. I want to see for myself!"
The little old man spared a glance at Ren. "Ren-kun. What's the objective for
today?"
Ren thought for a moment. "In the weights room, we count sets. On the track, we
count distance. On the mat, we count time. But in a Wrestling Ring..."
He paused, then shared a look with Shibukawa. The two smiled in synchronized
mischief.
Shibukawa bared his teeth. "Hahaha! Youth is a blessing! I'm going to have a
blast with you boys!"
The old and the young walked toward the ring together. As they stepped onto the
apron, they traded a crisp high-five.
CLAP!
"Today's training objective... is to make the audience ROAR!"
Ren Shiroki vaulted over the ropes, his body beginning to hum with combat
energy. He bounced on his toes, his expression serene.
The "Saint of War" took the stairs at a leisurely pace, standing beside Ren with
a playful, wicked smirk on his face.
Standing across from them—
Jose Kanzaki (The 4D Latin American) had already taken his position. Seeing two
opponents, Jose was about to call for a partner when another figure stepped into
the ring. The metal of the turnbuckles groaned as he flexed his massive arms.
Kugo Kurachi (The God of Pro-Wrestling)!
"It's been an age since I felt this fired up," the legend boomed. "This is going
to be... FANTASTIC!!"
Tag-Team Pro-Wrestling Drills— 2-vs-2! START!!
(End of Chapter)
☆☆☆
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