Chapter 286: Am I Cowardly?
Late Morning. Kure Village Central Plaza, Temporary Festival Ring.
"Everyone! Thank you for waiting!"
A young Kure girl with the distinct black-sclera eyes of the clan was serving as
the announcer and referee. Dressed in a summer sundress, she gripped the
microphone and shouted to the crowd: "This year's temporary arena uses a King of
the Hill format!"
"In our opening bout, the [Saint of War] Gouki Shibukawa defeated the [God of
Destruction] Haruo Kono in a masterclass of technique!"
"And yesterday... after a sudden, high-stakes spar, the Master acknowledged the
[Soul Combatant] and yielded the ring to the next generation!"
"Now, the octagon prepares for a new soul to enter the fray! We cannot afford to
miss this!"
The announcer marched to the center of the ring, her boot slamming into the
sand. "The two warriors are entering the arena—!"
"From the Soul Combat Hub, Ren Shiroki!!" "VS!" "The Harmony of Hard and Soft,
Master of Ku-ken-do, Jaku Kaioh!!"
The plaza erupted in a wall of cheers and rhythmic clapping as the two
combatants stepped onto the stage.
Both were bare-chested and barefoot. Ren wore his standard training shorts,
while Jaku wore traditional martial arts trousers. The contrast in their styles
was visible in their very posture. They settled into their respective corners,
loosening their muscles.
Ringside.
"Ren-chin! Go for it!"
Fusui Kure raised her hands and cheered, her eyes crinkling behind her goggles.
She was clearly loving the festival energy.
Behind the girl, a hulking, violent silhouette let out a dismissive snort. Raian
Kure crossed his arms, sparing Jaku a brief, side-eyed glance. "Tch. Boring."
"Fusui, are you blind? The power gap is obvious. This is a slaughter, not a
match."
Fusui shrugged, her grin never wavering. "True, but it's a festival ring, Big
Brother. Anything can happen in the sand."
Raian's lips curled into a jagged smirk as a thought struck him. "You're right.
Maybe I'll jump in and butcher that bearded fossil myself. That would liven
things up!"
He prepared to vault the barricade, but a hand clamped onto his shoulder. Erio
Kure was massaging his temples. "The match is starting, brat. Sit down and stop
causing trouble."
Nearby, Gouki Shibukawa let out a high-pitched laugh. "Hahaha! Youth is a
blessing! Erio-dono, why not let the homicidal kid play? It would be a hell of a
show."
Erio let out a long, weary sigh. "If I let Raian on that stage, there wouldn't
be any matches left for the rest of the festival. I have to think about the
optics of a Kure event."
"Besides, you're the one who gave the spot to Ren-kun. If the ring gets quiet,
I'm blaming you."
Shibukawa smiled but said nothing.
Raian bared his teeth. "No matter. I'll kill some people later. MPD,
Pro-Wrestlers, Ku-ken-do... I'll bury them all."
Fusui giggled. "Whoa! Big Brother is being so dramatic! You'd almost think he
wasn't joking~!"
Official Sonoda, standing right beside Fusui, began to sweat profusely at the
talk of mass murder. Phew... okay. Just pretend I didn't hear that. Law and
order don't exist in this village...
Up in the ring, Ren and Jaku were ready.
"Finalists! To your marks!"
The Kure announcer raised her hand high and slashed it downward. "BEGIN!!"
Zip!
Ren Shiroki stood bladed. His left shoulder was raised to guard his jaw, his
right fist tucked against his ribs—a rock-solid, high-alert stance. He locked
onto Jaku Kaioh.
But to the shock of the crowd, Jaku didn't drop into a guard. He offered a
gentle, serene smile and stepped forward, addressing Ren with total honesty.
"Ren-kun. I've realized it... I have absolutely zero chance of beating you in a
fight."
The audience froze. Did he just forfeit at the bell?!
Ren looked surprised, but Jaku continued: "However, for the sake of young
Haruo-kun, I must show him my martial soul. I must demonstrate the possibilities
of the art. Therefore... I have a request."
Jaku bladed his body, extending his right palm forward in a vertical,
open-handed gesture. "Please... grant me a Sparring Kumite!"
Kumite (Sparring Drill)— A traditional form of controlled combat training. Both
sides trade offense and defense without "showy" movements, focusing on the
tactical reality of the art while adhering to the principle of "Controlled
Impact."
Jaku was proposing to turn a live Kengan match into a technical demonstration.
Ren Shiroki rubbed his chin. His mental archives hummed as the data on Jaku
Kaioh surfaced. He couldn't help but smirk.
Based on his personality? Not a chance.
This was a trap. A classic Jaku maneuver. He was using the "Kumite" as a
smokescreen to close the distance and find a gap in Ren's guard. But Ren didn't
mind. He was genuinely curious to see how the Master would play his hand.
"Sure. Why not?"
Ren offered a relaxed grin. He stepped forward, adopting a matching bladed
stance and extending his own right palm until the backs of their hands touched.
The announcer project her voice: "Ren Shiroki has accepted! Is Jaku Kaioh really
going to turn this match into a training drill?!"
Jaku offered a warm, maternal smile. "Regardless of the outcome, thank you."
He spoke softly, his tone educational. "I seek to popularize absolute
self-defense. My goal isn't to maim, but to secure a victory."
"The lesson I want Haruo-kun to learn isn't one of raw power, but of the
'Possibility' of struggle when facing an overwhelming foe."
Jaku slowly adjusted his center of mass.
"I am not like the Great Retsu Kaioh. I do not possess his upright soul. When I
know a frontal assault is suicide, I will do anything to create an opening."
"Against a cunning foe, I use extreme caution. Against an upright warrior... I
set a trap."
Jaku looked into Ren's eyes with a look of profound sincerity. "Tell me,
Ren-kun... do you find a man like me to be... Cowardly?"
Ren arched an eyebrow. "Cowardly? You're a manipulative, scheming, underhanded
bastard!"
Jaku froze, a dry laugh escaping his lips. "Ah! Hahaha... direct, aren't you?"
"But," Ren's tone shifted, "looking at it from the other side... isn't it
impressive that the 'Weak' can find a way to face the 'Strong'?"
"To have the courage to protect yourself against a monster... a man like that is
a hell of a lot more interesting than a common thug!"
The words filled Jaku with a surge of genuine joy. "Splendid!"
The next heartbeat—"FORGIVE ME!"
Zip!
Jaku's hand snapped into a reverse-grip, his fingers clamping around Ren's right
wrist. He performed a rapid-fire backward pivot, his feet tracing a semi-circle
in the sand.
Despite his burly frame, Jaku's flexibility was elite. While keeping Ren's wrist
pinned, he pulled his arms back to their limit and unleashed a reverse-hand
back-fist aimed directly at Ren's jaw.
"HA!"
The speed was terrifying. This wasn't a drill; it was a high-velocity execution!
But Ren had anticipated the betrayal. He snapped his left arm up, aiming his
elbow outward to intercept the back-fist.
An elbow is a dozen times harder than the bones of the hand. Meeting it head-on
would have reduced Jaku's knuckles to powder. Sensing the danger, Jaku aborted
the punch mid-swing. He drove off the floor and pivoted, trying to wrench Ren's
arm into a full shoulder lock.
Zip-zip!
Ren's left leg drove into the sand, providing the torque for a violent right-leg
scan.
[SAGAT'S LOW SCAN KICK]!
THWACK!
The kick was a blur. Jaku was forced to release Ren's wrist, hopping backward to
clear the arc of the shin. He wasn't fast enough; the heel clipped his ankle.
"Gah—!"
Jaku let out a sharp cry of pain, stumbling back on a gimpy leg. He retreated to
a safe distance, rubbing his throbbing ankle and staring at Ren with a look of
genuine shock.
"That was close... you almost ended my career right there!"
The announcer finally caught on. "An ambush! It was a sneak attack!"
"Jaku Kaioh used the Kumite as cover to launch a lethal strike, but Ren Shiroki
forced him back with a low scan! The trap has failed!"
The plaza erupted into a chorus of boos. Jaku had been in the village for days,
and while his skills were respected, his constant, sappy lecturing had worn thin
with the younger Kure generation. Seeing him use a dirty trick only intensified
their annoyance.
"Stop with the sappy lectures, old man!" "Just fight or get out!" "Ren! Kill the
fossil!"
Jaku ignored the noise. He stared at Ren Shiroki, his eyes filled with a mixture
of nervous tension and predatory excitement.
"Again..." Jaku panted, then roared: "AGAIN! Ren-kun! Let's continue the Kumite!
I have more to show you!"
He extended his right hand again, beckoning Ren to close the distance.
The experts watching could see the problem. For a master of joint locks and
grappling like Jaku, closing the gap against a striker as explosive as Ren was a
tactical nightmare. The "Kumite" was his only reliable way to get within reach.
Jaku offered a playful, alluring smirk. "Don't you want to see the rest of my
toy box, Ren-kun?"
"Sure."
Ren didn't hesitate. He walked back into Jaku's personal space, the backs of
their hands touching once more.
"SHINK!"
Jaku growled, launching a low-level offensive. He stepped his right leg forward
to trip Ren's lead foot while his hand snapped into a wrist-lock, his entire
bodyweight driving forward. He intended to snap Ren's radius and ulna in a
single motion!
But the next micro-second, Ren's right leg snapped up. He drove his weight
forward, leaning his back against Jaku's chest to neutralize the leverage of the
wrist lock.
The unpredictable fluidity of Drunken Boxing manifest! Ren had completed his
"Throw Setup" before Jaku could even begin his lock. Ren pulled his right arm
back and delivered two rapid-fire elbow strikes over his shoulder.
[JAMIE'S BACK-ELBOW CLIP]!
BANG! BANG!
Jaku took both hits flush on the nose. Blood sprayed from his nostrils as the
acid-like sting of the impacts filled his vision. He was forced to release his
grip, stumbling backward in a daze.
"Jaku Kaioh's second ambush has been dismantled!" the MC cheered. "Ren Shiroki's
counter-striking is relentless! The Master is leaking blood!"
The crowd's cheers for Ren grew deafening. They wanted the "Bearded Preacher"
off the ring immediately.
"GET OUT OF HERE, BEARD-KUN!" "FIGHT FOR REAL OR DIE!" "WHERE'S THE BLADE?!"
Among the shouting crowd, a group of hulking giants suddenly burst into
laughter. "Hahahaha!"
It was Kugo Kurachi and the SJPW wrestlers. Their boisterous amusement left the
nearby Kure and Police confused.
Kurachi wiped a tear from his eye. "Acting, sneak attacks, tanking hits, and
using any dirty trick to win... Jaku Kaioh isn't a martial artist. He's a
Pro-Wrestler!"
The logic clicked for the crowd. The boos turned into a wave of resigned
head-shaking. Well, when you put it that way...
Ignoring the audience, Jaku bladed his body for the third time. Blood coated his
mouth and dripped from his chin, staining the sand of the ring.
He offered the invitation for the third time. "Ren-kun... do you still have the
'Guts' to come closer?"
Ren strolled forward, entering Jaku's reach. He extended his hand, the back of
his wrist resting against Jaku's palm.
Jaku moved to lock the wrist for the third time.
But this time, Ren's hand snapped into a reverse-grip first. He dropped into a
deep bow-stance, mimicking the start of a Karate [Shoulder Throw]. The sudden
shift in momentum shattered Jaku's rhythm.
"—?!"
Jaku retreated a half-step, but his instincts suddenly screamed. By breaking the
grapple, he had placed himself in the perfect range for a high-velocity strike.
I'm open!
Jaku looked up just in time to see Ren's left foot driving into the sand. Ren
spun 180 degrees, his right leg whipping around in a horizontal arc toward
Jaku's stomach.
"HA!"
[DRIVE IMPACT: DEE JAY'S WILD BEAT]!
BOOM!
The high-speed spinning back-kick connected flush with Jaku's solar plexus. Even
with the Master hopping back to shed the force, the impact was too fast. Jaku
was launched off his feet.
"GUUGH—!!"
(End of Chapter)
☆☆☆
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