Chapter 346: What Kind of Fight?
At the ramen shop counter.
"What kind of fight am I looking for?"
Ren Shiroki heard Baki Hanma's question and couldn't help but chuckle. "Man,
hearing that from the [CHAMPION] himself... I'm honored."
"Don't give me that, Ren-aniki," Baki said, raising an eyebrow. "Kozue told me
about your history—the chronic brain condition you suffered from for years. You
used to wander off and lose your memories, right?"
"From where I'm standing, that's a hell of a lot scarier than the poison I was
dealing with." Baki looked up at the ceiling. "If I crossed a single 'Dead
Line,' you were living on one for years. That's way more impressive than
anything I've done."
Ren felt a bit sheepish and buried his face in his bowl of noodles.
Baki let out a long sigh. "I've always thought you were incredible, Ren-aniki.
You opened your own business, you take care of your family... Honestly, all my
friends are amazing in their own way."
The boy bared his teeth in a grin. "Doppo-sensei founded the Shinshinkai,
Katsumi-aniki is working his heart out as the successor, Hanayama is... well,
Hanayama. Then there's Motobe-san, Shibukawa-sensei, the doctors, the cops—all
of them are legends."
"But my Old Man... he's in a different category."
Baki finished the last of his broth and waited for Ren's answer.
What kind of fight?
Ren thought about it seriously.
"I don't have a god-like father like yours. The old man who raised me was just a
normal martial arts athlete, so I can't fully understand your struggle,
Baki-kun."
"But I have one thought that's similar to yours."
Ren spoke slowly. "I didn't start fighting for gain or loss."
"I just... I want to see it. The winning, the losing, the blood, the sweat, and
the tears of people giving everything they have. That's the only way I can truly
experience what 'Strength' is."
Ren bared his own teeth in a grin. "Outside of a 'Fight,' you'd never get to see
someone like Baki Hanma. Or Doppo Orochi. Or Sekibayashi... or even Yujiro
Hanma."
Baki pondered this for a moment and gave a cheerful nod. "Yeah. I guess that's
true."
The boy was still thinking about his father, but having finished his ramen, he
stood up and bid the siblings farewell.
Kuroki Gensai. Kaku Kaioh. Yujiro Hanma.
The night that had felt like the eve of a war had finally returned to a state of
peace. But no matter what happens, as long as you're still breathing, humanity
always wakes up to a new "Tomorrow."
Rest, food, fun, and training—all for the sake of tomorrow.
Two days later, a new routine settled over the Soul Combat Hub.
Arisa's school term had begun.
It was mid-morning, the autumn air crisp and clear. Taking advantage of the
bright sunlight, Ren hauled a set of heavy dumbbells out to the courtyard for
some high-intensity [ZANGIEF STYLE] squats.
{COMPRESS! ONE MORE! GOOD THINGS HAPPEN TO THOSE WHO STAY LOW!}
The ink-wash smoke swirled as the phantom of Zangief let out a deep, boisterous
roar, training alongside his disciple.
When the final set was finished, Zangief looked satisfied. He gave Ren a heavy,
bone-rattling clap on the shoulder and dissipated.
"Hah... hah...!"
Ren dropped the dumbbells, gasping for air. His bare torso was slick with sweat,
droplets hitting the dirt in a steady rhythm.
Whistle~!
From the second-floor balcony, Fusui Kure let out a sharp whistle. Ren looked up
and caught the long towel she tossed down, offering a grateful smile.
After a brief rest, it was time for striking drills.
Ren stood before the heavy bag, a traditional Muay Thai kicking post situated
nearby. Fusui came downstairs, sitting on the porch to maintain her firearms.
Thud-thud-thud!
Ren unleashed a flurry of strikes—Luke's aggressive, modern MMA style mixed with
punishing Sagat-style low kicks. He adjusted his weight and rotation under the
watchful eyes of his phantoms.
The more he struck, the more fluid he became. His speed increased, pressure
mounting like a rising tide.
After a while, he intentionally slowed his movements. He wasn't tired; he was
focusing on the internal mechanics of each motion.
Whoosh. Whoosh. Whoosh.
Every strike was weighted and grounded. From an outside perspective, you could
see the ripple of his muscles as the power traveled from his feet to his
knuckles.
Finally, Ren's movements reached a glacial pace. He pivoted his right foot,
driving the torque upward into a massive rising uppercut.
[SHORYUKEN]!
The move combined a paradoxical sense of weight and lightness.
"Phew!"
Ren landed softly, putting his hands on his hips to catch his breath. He
finished the session with some deep flexibility stretches, rotating his joints.
This was the most relaxed time of the day—perfect for casual talk.
"Hey..." Fusui said, wiping oil onto a gun barrel. "Some members of the Kure
Clan just got a contract to act as bodyguards for a few Kengan Association
members."
Ren leaned against the wall, stretching his hamstrings. "Is IDEAL making a
move?"
"Hard to say. The Worm is sniffing around the underground circuit too, and there
are some restless factions within the Association itself."
Fusui expertly snapped a component back into place. "But the leads all point to
the same place: 'The Inside'."
The Inside. Also known as "The Ward." A lawless territory contained within the
heart of Tokyo, surrounded by high walls—and the birthplace of Ohma Tokita.
Ren nodded. "I see. On a different note... I'm heading out this afternoon. Do
you need anything?"
"If it's on the way, grab me the latest issue of my magazine. Thanks,
Ren-chin~!"
Fusui blinked her black-and-white eyes, leaning against a pillar to catch the
breeze. "By the way, where are you going?"
"The Tokugawa Estate."
Ren crouched down, hugging his knees to his chest while maintaining perfect
balance. "Tokugawa-jiisan heard about the 'Night of the Ogre' and said he's been
too excited to sleep. He practically begged me to come over and chat."
That afternoon.
Inspector Morio Sonoda had finally finished the mountain of paperwork regarding
Yanagi Ryuko. As a death row convict and a mass murderer, Yanagi's death was a
"justifiable end," requiring no liability—only rewards.
However, since Yujiro Hanma was the one who delivered the final blow, no one
dared to hold him responsible, nor did they dare to publicly reward him.
The Superintendent, Haru Takeyama, solved the issue by splitting the
commendations between Sonoda and Ichika Iori's respective departments. But along
with the praise, Takeyama gave Sonoda a new task:
"Babysitting" the last convict—Doyle.
Doyle had been captured in Kure Village after being defeated by Ren and
Sekibayashi. Having finally learned the "Meaning of Battle," he had surrendered
voluntarily.
Doyle was the most unique of the five. He was a former British intelligence
operative whose execution and records were classified at the highest level.
There was no legal ground to process him as a standard criminal.
Fortunately, Doyle had no desire to flee. Until the top brass decided what to do
with him, Sonoda was acting as his escort, showing him around the city.
To Sonoda's surprise, Doyle had made a specific request: he wanted to see Super
Pro-Wrestling again.
And so, earlier that day, the two had visited the Super Pro-Wrestling Club,
meeting up with the Hub's old friends. Jun Sekibayashi had personally hosted
them.
After some talk, Doyle had even stepped into the ring, asking Sekibayashi to
teach him a proper "Chop" as a souvenir of his time with the wrestlers.
Satisfied, Sonoda asked Doyle what was next on his list.
"Heh. You're far too kind, Sonoda-san. Thank you for the trouble."
Doyle pondered for a moment, the fire of combat still smoldering in his eyes.
"Tomorrow... how about we go check out the Karate of the Shinshinkai?"
[Tokugawa Estate]
Ren Shiroki arrived as scheduled, stepping into the massive, luxurious
traditional mansion. He walked through the elegant front gardens and was led to
the private guest wing.
Mitsunari Tokugawa was already waiting at the porch, practically vibrating with
excitement.
The bald little old man was the 11th-generation descendant of the Mito Tokugawa
line and the 13th head of the Tokugawa Zaibatsu. His influence was so vast that
top politicians bowed to him.
But the Tokugawa family had a multi-generational obsession with fighting.
Mitsunari was the ultimate fanboy. When it came to martial artists, he had zero
ego—he was just a little old man who loved a good scrap.
"Aha! Welcome, welcome~!"
Tokugawa rubbed his hands together excitedly, ushering Ren into the tatami room.
As they sat down, Tokugawa called for tea and sweets before snapping open his
folding fan.
"Shiroki-kun! We haven't known each other long, but even I can see it..."
Tokugawa appraised him, a wide grin splitting his face. "You've gotten even
sturdier than when we first met! Your training is bearing fruit!"
Fwap!
The old man fanned himself slowly.
"The police are still figuring out what to do with Doyle, but he's already
admitted his defeat."
"So it's safe to say that the 'Five Death Row Convicts' who came to Tokyo
seeking defeat through Synchronicity... have all achieved their goal."
Tokugawa squinted at Ren playfully. "I want to hear your thoughts on the
matter—"
☆☆☆
-> 30 Advanced chapters Now Available on Patreon!!
-> https://www.pat-reon.co-m/c/Hollowborn
(Just remove the hyphen (-) to access patreon normally)
If you like this novel please consider leaving a review that's help the story a lot Thank you