Chapter 409: A Real Fight in the Ring
The struggle reached its conclusion.
A private ambulance, stationed on standby outside the construction site, rolled
onto the sand. Medics quickly loaded Mohammad Alai Jr. onto a stretcher and
rushed him toward the hospital.
Kanoh Agito remained in the center of the lot, taking a moment to reset his
breathing.
On the sidelines, Ren Shiroki and Kosho Shinogi continued to stare at the empty
clearing where the "King" and the "Son of God" had just clashed. They were
dissecting the data of the previous frames.
"Alai Jr. fought a beautiful boxing match," Ren mused, crossing his arms.
Kosho's hands were tucked into his pockets, a faint smile playing on his lips.
"Indeed. Facing the relentless assault of the Fang, he managed to maintain his
'Stand and Fight' resolve. He has the heart of a pure boxer."
"But," Ren added, his eyes sharpening, "because he mixed it with a 'Sporting'
mindset, his perception of a real struggle was too complex. He was looking for
rules where none exist."
"A 'Battle'? That sounds too formal," Kosho thinned his lips. "I prefer to call
it a 'Scrap.' Agito vs. Alai Jr.—because their definitions of the outcome were
different, it was just an exchange of disciplines. It wasn't a true fight."
Kosho tapped his own nose. "You can tell by the 'Scent' in the air."
"What is Strength? That simple question shouldn't be cluttered with aesthetics.
It should be answered in the most primitive way possible."
Ren nodded slowly. "We have a date for a Street Brawl, don't we?"
"We do." Kosho flexed his ten fingers. "The definition of 'Street Combat' is
that it can trigger at any moment, in any place."
"We could start while we're having a pleasant conversation, or right after a
meal, or even just because the wind blew the right way..."
Ren let out a helpless, dry laugh. "Shinogi-kun, we aren't Death Row Convicts.
Let's not cause a public disturbance or give the local precinct a headache. We
should probably skip the 'Public Nuisance' part of the street fight."
Kosho grinned. "Naturally. We can find a suitable venue together!"
Standing side-by-side, the two friends traded barbs with light, airy voices. But
the content of their words and the pressure of their auras were heavy with
battle-intent. The air around them began to warp with the rising torque of their
spirits.
The circle of veterans nearby took notice.
Metsudo Katahara raised an eyebrow. "Ho ho ho! It seems the night is far from
over. Good thing I'm not an early sleeper."
Mitsunari Tokugawa was even more electrified. The little old man who ran the
Tokyo Dome Underground Arena sprinted across the sand, stopping right behind Ren
and Kosho. Even under the crushing weight of their combined killing intent,
Tokugawa didn't flinch.
"Shiroki! Shinogi!"
He clenched his fists, sweat beading on his bald head from pure excitement. "Are
you two doing it?! Right here?! Right now?!"
Ren and Kosho both paused, giving the suggestion a serious thought before
shaking their heads in unison.
"Even if it's a Street Fight, this is a rare opportunity," Kosho said with a
smile. "I want a proper stage. Not a building site."
"I agree with Shinogi-kun," Ren added, his eyes shimmering. "A real fight can
happen anywhere, so there's no reason it can't happen in a legendary venue."
Kosho turned to Tokugawa. "Jiisan. Is 'The Pit' ready for a walk-in?"
"EEEEE-HEHE!"
Tokugawa began to shake with delight, a wide, toothy grin splitting his face.
"Of course! It's ready whenever the monsters are!"
The location was set: The Tokyo Dome Underground Arena.
As Kanoh Agito had sensed, the two of them were finally ready to descend into
the abyss. On the surface, the arrangement seemed strange—calling a match in a
sanctioned arena a "Street Fight"—but the logic of the masters was different.
Katsumi Orochi put his hands on his hips and tilted his head. "If they're taking
it to a ring, does it still count as 'Street Combat'?"
"Why wouldn't it?" [THE BUSHIN] Doppo Orochi countered. "The street is a state
of mind. If they decide it's a brawl, then it's a brawl."
Thinking back on the Agito match, Doppo laughed. "A fight outside a ring can be
a hollow exhibition. Conversely, a fight inside a ring can be a visceral,
real-world execution."
Ren Shiroki vs. Kosho Shinogi. The "Passersby" weren't about to miss a main
event like this.
The journey from the construction site to the Suidobashi district, where the
Tokyo Dome sat, was a significant distance.
The Orochi father and son, along with Gouki Shibukawa, piled into Metsudo
Katahara's luxury sedan. The Shinogi brothers had arrived by train, so they
hitched a ride in Tokugawa's private car.
Ren, as always, hopped onto the back of Fusui Kure's heavy street bike.
The groups departed one after another, racing toward the Dome. Word of a sudden,
high-stakes duel began to ripple through the inner circle of the Arena regulars.
Those who were close enough immediately dropped what they were doing and
sprinted for Suidobashi. Those who were too far away let out cries of agony,
cursing Tokugawa for such a short-notice masterpiece.
Inside the Tokugawa car, the Shinogi brothers sat in the back. Dr. Kureha
Shinogi crossed his arms, watching his younger brother. Kosho was using the
limited space of the cabin to perform high-frequency flexibility stretches and
joint rotations.
Kureha let out a hearty laugh. "Haha! Kosho, I thought this was a 'Street
Brawl.' Why are you doing a traditional warm-up?"
Kosho didn't stop. He hooked his leg over the seat and continued his stretch.
"In a real struggle, performing technical drills while traveling to the
destination is a common frame," Kosho replied stoically.
He looked at his older brother. "To use everything available to you—that is the
style of the street."
"Mm. A fair point." Kureha leaned back, giving his brother more room to move.
Kosho continued, "Since we were children, I never wanted to lose to you, Aniki.
I wanted to be a man who stood on equal footing with you."
"Oh?" Kureha smiled. "So you're fighting the Shiroki boy for that reason? To
defeat the man who conquered me?"
"No," Kosho shook his head. "Tonight's match has nothing to do with you, Aniki.
I simply want to see... my Shinogi-style Karate... my 'Way'. I want to see
exactly how far I've taken it."
Hearing this, Kureha felt a sense of peace. "Good. That's as it should be. After
all—"
Kureha was cut off as the car slowed for a red light in a busy district. At the
same moment, Fusui's bike pulled up alongside them.
The two vehicles sat side-by-side. The Shinogi brothers looked through the glass
to see Ren Shiroki, helmet on, clinging to Fusui as the wind ruffled the girl's
short hair.
Kosho picked up where he left off, his voice carrying through the window. "After
all... when you face Ren Shiroki, you don't have the luxury of thinking about
anyone else."
"Fighting him carries an immense pressure."
Kosho had sensed it long ago.
"He's a breezy, cheerful guy outside the frames—the kind of person you can't
help but be friends with. But inside the ring? He's a different beast."
"The way he controls his styles... the way he manipulates the flow of a match...
it's reaching a level that defies imagination. He has too many tools."
"He isn't an athlete. He isn't just a martial artist. He is a 'Street
Combatant'."
"—And he is strong!"
"His strength lies in the infinite variety of his technical 'Greed'."
Kosho looked at his own hands. "That is why I must fight him. If I don't, my own
'Way' will remain stagnant and mediocre."
Kureha listened to his brother's resolve. But before he could respond, a
rhythmic tap-tap-tap sounded on the car window.
Ren Shiroki had leaned over from the bike, baring his teeth in a wide grin as
the light turned green.
"Shinogi-kun! I was thinking the exact same thing!"
The travel time vanished in a blur of anticipation.
The cars arrived at the Tokyo Dome one by one. The group met at the VIP entrance
and descended the private elevator to B6—The Pit.
Ren and Kosho led the pack. When they reached the corridor where the paths
split, they turned in opposite directions toward their respective gates.
Before they parted, Dr. Kureha Shinogi stepped forward, slamming his palms
against both of their backs with a thunderous CLAP.
The Great Physician looked at his brother, then at his friend, his expression
turning heavy and serious.
"Kosho. Ren."
"I bless this match. Go into those frames and give everything you have!"
"And remember this: as long as you crawl out of that ring alive, I promise
you... I will fix whatever you break!"
☆☆☆
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