Chapter 137: Iron Fist of Love
"Time's up."
Aokiji patted the area hidden by the control console.
Tatsumaki, who was blowing bubbles, hurriedly swallowed.
She quickly tidied herself up, smoothing the wrinkles of her high-slit skirt, and came to the side of the capsule pod.
Though she was a bit puzzled as to how Fubuki's hands had broken free from the restraints, Tatsumaki was mostly focused on keeping calm and pretending nothing had happened, so she didn't pay much attention to such a small detail.
Her Psychic Power lifted the soaking wet Fubuki into the air.
She sweated so much; Fubuki must have been in a lot of pain.
Tatsumaki felt a pang of heartache seeing the pure white lab coat completely drenched.
Fubuki's determination to gain that bit of enhancement and not become a burden was too firm.
Tatsumaki couldn't bring herself to object.
She had indeed changed.
In the past, Tatsumaki would have definitely belittled her first and then forcefully demanded Fubuki stop, insisting she just accept her protection.
Now, she remained silent, her Psychic Power gently supporting Fubuki, finally showing some of the tenderness of an elder sister.
Fubuki really wanted to enjoy her sister's rare tenderness... but the previous sounds were still echoing in her mind.
Fubuki could only keep her eyes closed, quietly wiping the sticky sweat onto her clothes.
"Take Fubuki to the villa for a bath; I still have things to do," Aokiji said as he stood up.
"More things?" Tatsumaki's green hair drifted, obscuring the expression on her face.
"Hmph! Suit yourself. Go be busy then. It'd be better if you, the'Strongest Hero,' worked yourself to death!"
Aokiji walked over and brushed aside the hair hiding her displeased expression.
Tatsumaki tried to turn her head away to avoid looking at him.
But her small face was gently cupped in his palm, and he gave her forehead a soothing kiss.
"I'll be back tonight. You two get some rest."
"Hey!" Tatsumaki froze at first, then her face flushed as she gave a start.
She hurriedly and nervously glanced at Fubuki.
Fortunately, she hadn't opened her eyes; she was probably too tired.
Since there hadn't been any noise just now, Fubuki shouldn't have noticed.
Fubuki: Yes, I know nothing. Can we hurry up? Being covered in sweat is very uncomfortable.
"Get lost, get lost," Tatsumaki pushed him away.
Even though she was still shooing him away, Tatsumaki no longer had that faint gloominess from before.
A slight curve appeared at the corner of Aokiji's mouth. He said nothing more, but before leaving, he reached out and stroked her little curly hair again.
His fingertips brushed through the green hair, catching a hint of a pleasant fragrance.
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Garou sat cross-legged in the center of the Dojo's wooden floor, his hands resting wide on his knees, staring at the tightly closed Dojo doors.
At this time of day, the other Disciples would usually have already started cleaning up.
It would end once Bang finished his summary of the day's Training.
But everyone else's movements were exceptionally slow.
It took five or six people just to Move a training wooden post, and they would stop to rest after only a few steps.
Of course, it wasn't that they lacked the stamina from their Training.
Rather, everyone wanted to stay and see how Mr. Aokiji would persuade Garou.
Garou, who had returned from prison, had changed somewhat; he no longer mocked them at every opportunity like before.
But he still didn't look like a hero at all.
"I don't know what Master and Mr. Aokiji are thinking, actually wanting that kid to become a hero. Can he even do a good job?!"
Sour Face gripped the wooden post, complaining in a low, resentful voice.
"I hope he doesn't end up ruining our Dojo's reputation."
"Shh—Senior Brother, keep your voice down. Garou seems to have become even stronger since he came back. Don't let him hear you."
Charanko looked nervously at Garou in the center of the field.
Seeing that the other party remained sitting in silent meditation, he breathed a sigh of relief.
"It's not like I'm saying anything bad," Sour Face said sullenly, adding another defiant remark.
"Everyone thinks the same, right? I can't imagine Garou having anything to do with being a hero at all."
"If anything, as long as he doesn't go around attacking heroes in the future, he'll be doing right by Master."
At that moment, Bang, who had approached them at some unknown point, spoke up:
"Sour Face, do not say things that are detrimental to unity."
"M-Master!"
The group instantly stood at attention.
Bang did not scold them for their sluggish cleaning.
Nor did he reprimand them for talking behind someone's back.
Bang only silently watched the lean back sitting there, which looked remarkably similar to his own when he was young.
Once, I was defeated by my older brother. From his fist and his martial arts, I felt the will he carried out.
Thus, I reflected and returned to the right path.
What about you now, Garou?
Garou naturally heard the idle gossip of his fellow Disciples.
He didn't care at all.
A bunch of trash who aren't even clear about what they truly seek.
Their questioning words couldn't disturb Garou's heart in the slightest.
He continued to look toward the door.
Waiting for that man's arrival.
Garou also had some understanding of what Aokiji had been doing these days.
He only felt that it wasn't enough!
If it were a true, perfect hero, they would never stop at this level!
Only by completely destroying all "evil" along with the cradle that births "evil" can it be called perfect justice.
Aokiji's actions, which seemed radical in the eyes of the world,
were a bit too conservative for Garou.
Since a perfect hero and the best prescription to heal society do not exist,
then "absolute evil," fighting poison with poison, is still the optimal solution!
Garou had no intention of playing out some juvenile plot where he gets beaten up by a hero, turns over a new leaf, gives up his ideals, and joins the side of justice.
He only wanted to fight Aokiji again!
To test how much of a gap still remained between them.
The Dojo doors were slowly pushed open.
"Yo, everyone's still here," Aokiji greeted the crowd with a lazy wave.
"Then let's begin. I'm in a hurry."
Needless to say, after Bang relayed the message to Garou, the guy still hadn't agreed.
Aokiji decided to use his fists for a simple and crude "heart-to-heart."
While unbuttoning his white martial arts uniform jacket to reveal a black tight-fitting training top,
Garou stood up steadily.
He didn't say any nonsense or provocations.
In any case, he had already decided in his heart not to join the Hero Association.
He would just treat this as a pure battle.
With a flick of his arm, the white martial arts uniform fell to the side.
Garou was solemn and focused.
Aokiji was lazy and casual.
The atmosphere gradually grew heavy.
After a brief standoff that made people afraid to breathe loudly,
Garou's figure burst into motion!
So fast! This thought had just flashed through the minds of the surrounding Disciples.
Garou had already arrived in front of Aokiji and launched a fierce offensive!
After fighting many times with Puri-Puri Prisoner, who had a mysterious damage-taking ability, the destructive power of his Moves had significantly improved in pursuit of more efficient attacks!
It poured out like a violent, surging torrent!
But Aokiji simply raised a single fist.
It passed precisely through the many afterimages of attacks.
Striking second but arriving first!
It slammed painfully onto Garou's head!
The wooden floor shattered instantly!
Garou's head was buried into the floor, and a large lump visibly swelled up.
"As expected..."
"It's just as I thought."
"This is the right flavor."
The spectating Disciples all sighed with no surprise at all.
This scene was simply too familiar.
Let's put it this way: except for the resting room area, Garou's head had been buried into every part of the entire Dojo.
The backyard, the front yard, inside the Dojo, the mountain climbing steps... the pits where traces could still be seen had become a local feature.
Aokiji held up his fist, his eyes filled with a bit of surprise and eagerness to try more.
Did that old man Garp's Iron Fist of Love specifically optimize the striking sensation?
How could the feeling of hitting someone's head be so satisfying?