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Chapter 453 - Chapter 453: Pitch Black

Chapter 453: Pitch Black

"Hiss—huu!"

Setsuna Kiryu let out a muffled groan, coughing up the blood clogging his throat

and nose. He transitioned into a slanted, ambush-style Rakshasa's Palm, cutting

directly into Ohma's blind spot on his inner flank.

Suddenly?!

Kiryu's footing hitched.

Looking closely, Ohma had stepped half a step forward, using his left knee to

clamp down on Kiryu's right knee while driving his weight inward.

Just like that, Kiryu's lower base was disrupted, throwing his entire body

off-balance.

Seizing the opening, Ohma launched a relentless wave of heavy, rapid punches,

shattering Kiryu's structural balance before grabbing him by the wrist.

Without breaking his footwork, he delivered a swift low sweep.

[NIKO STYLE: REDIRECTION KATA — WILLOW]!

Swish!

Kiryu staggered, leaving his center completely exposed as Ohma smashed a barrage

of heavy punches straight into his face, sending crimson spray blooming like

shattered petals.

Crash—!

This wasn't some flashy secret ultimate technique, but a fundamental Niko Style

principle—a technique focused on redirecting force vectors, though common enough

in other martial arts as well.

"Ugh—"

Kiryu felt a stinging ache radiate through the bridge of his nose as he

desperately tried to pull back and create distance.

I won't let you escape!

Ohma slammed his foot hard into the concrete, closing the gap in a single

breath. He lunged forward, wrapping his arms around Kiryu's waist to tackle him

straight to the ground.

Thud!

Ohma mounted Kiryu's hips, raining down heavy, hammering blows. After barely

managing to block a few, Kiryu violently arched his spine to throw him off,

immediately following up with a low sweep.

Swish!

Yet Ohma beat him to the punch once more, thrusting forward with a mid-level

front kick that slammed square into Kiryu's chest. Spotting the opening, he

fired a straight right.

[NIKO STYLE: ADAMANTINE KATA — IRON BREAKER]!

Boom!

This blow connected dead-center against Kiryu's lower abdomen, landing with a

heavy, concussive thud—a punishing strike straight to the core.

A sharp wave of agony tore through his chest, finally halting Kiryu's momentum.

Ohma didn't let up. Seizing Kiryu's right wrist, he aimed straight for his head

and snapped his leg up into a high-kick.

Bang!

To Ohma's surprise, however, the blow missed its mark.

At the very last split-second, Kiryu intentionally dislocated his own right

shoulder, sliding his joint out of the socket to wriggle free from the lock!

No—not just that—

Ohma's razor-sharp instincts warned him that Kiryu was unleashing something else

entirely!

It's coming!

Ren Shiroki saw it crystal clear from the sidelines.

Right before his eyes, Kiryu's right arm hung limp and useless. His long hair

was disheveled, his skin flushed to a feverish red, and the whites of his eyes

were completely shot through with crimson veins—he looked like a cornered, dying

beast.

Memories flashed through Ren's mind.

This supreme secret technique of Kiryu's was called [Fallen Demon]!

It was like "summoning a demon" from within the body—forcing the brain to lift

its safety limits during extreme crisis, plunging the user into a state of

near-death temporal stasis.

It was a phenomenon where the brain operated at hyper-acceleration when facing

mortal peril, shifting the user's entire field of vision into agonizing slow

motion.

On paper, Kiryu's technique shared a striking common ground with Ren's [ENGINE]:

both were deeply tied to hyper-accelerated brain activity.

Yet, a fundamental difference separated them—

Ren's [ENGINE] was focused inward; it cast aside all subconscious hesitation and

drove the body purely through sheer willpower, acting as the foundational

development of his "form."

Kiryu's [Fallen Demon], on the other hand, exploited the near-death temporal

stasis phenomenon, turning it into a chronic state. It forced everything in his

field of vision into slow motion just to face his opponent!

The latter was far more bizarre, far more pathological—the absolute pinnacle of

self-destructive impulse!

Whoosh!

Ohma threw a heavy punch.

This time, Kiryu reacted instantly, snapping his head back to shed the impact

and brushing past Ohma's fist by a hair's breadth.

Bang!

But Ohma's combo of fists and feet didn't slow down. Matching Kiryu's

accelerated speed, he pivoted and followed up with a vicious back-fist.

"Ugh—"

Kiryu coughed up blood from the impact, yet the crazed smile on his face only

widened.

He realized that even with [Fallen Demon] active, he still couldn't completely

evade Ohma's attacks!

Magnificent! What absolute bliss!

Ohma...

The you right now might have already surpassed Tokita Niko.

If you were to use [The Advance] on top of this, just how terrifyingly strong

would you become, standing there like a living god?!

—Now!

The moment Ohma's next heavy punch closed in, Kiryu found his window.

He wasn't chasing victory; he was waiting for Ohma's opening—waiting for the

precise micro-second to strike straight at Ohma's heart!

If he succeeded, he could forcibly trigger [The Advance], plunging Ohma into an

even deeper, more violent frenzy!

Right now—!!

Whoosh—!

Kiryu swiped Ohma's wrist aside, driving a Rakshasa's Palm straight into Ohma's

chest. It landed with a solid, meaty impact, muffled thunder rolling through the

air.

Thud!

That's it!

Ecstasy washed over Kiryu's face.

If he did this, Ohma would cast aside that boring Niko Style nonsense. His heart

would hammer into overdrive, and he'd turn right back into that mindless "God of

Destruction"!!

Time stops for a second, and next is—

BOOM!!

With a ferocious counter-strike, Ohma blasted a punch forward that blew Kiryu

completely off his feet. Kiryu hurtled backward, smashing into the ground and

skipping across the pavement like a skipping stone, kicking up a storm of

shattered bricks and flying debris.

Crash—!

Kiryu skidded to a halt, his face drenched in blood leaking simultaneously from

his ears, nose, mouth, and eyes, yet his expression radiated an extreme,

distorted euphoria.

Brilliant!

Struck by [The Advance], and soon to be killed by [The Advance]—give me a

fitting end just like this!

Thinking this, he forced his head up to look at Ohma.

To Kiryu's utter disbelief, however, Tokita Niko hadn't gone berserk. He stood

there as calm as before, a single stream of blood trickling from the corner of

his mouth.

"Why...?"

Kiryu froze, rage instantly eclipsing his euphoria as he roared, blood spitting

from his face, "Why are you still like this?! Why won't you turn into a god?!"

To be fair, Kiryu's final Rakshasa's Palm had landed with terrifying solidity;

Ohma had barely managed to weather it.

Ultimately, he had scraped by using [Indestructible] to absorb the brunt of the

kinetic energy, avoiding a forced relapse into [The Advance].

"I don't reject [The Advance], and I'll probably use it again down the road. But

right now... I want to beat you using only the Niko Style."

Ohma coughed up a clot of blood, stepping forward to look down at the prone

Kiryu, breathing in heavy, ragged gusts of hot air.

"If you're asking for a reason... I suppose it's simply because this is what I

want to do. This is how I've decided to fight you. That's all."

With that, Ohma glanced back toward Ren Shiroki, his mind drifting to the other

fighters who had crossed his path. "This is the mindset those guys gave me...

the foundation that lets me stay 'me'—"

Hearing those words, Kiryu finally snapped.

He trembled violently, every muscle spasming. "Stop fucking around! Kill me with

[The Advance]! I can't take this anymore—just put me out of my misery!"

"—Yeah, I'm going to put an end to this."

Tokita Niko crouched down, raising his fist to take aim at Kiryu, yet his stance

remained purely rooted in the Niko Style.

Kiryu was still thrashing, frantically begging Ohma to use [The Advance], but

Ohma's heavy fist descended all the same, slamming into Kiryu's chest.

Thud!

The blow made the surrounding air shudder, rattling Kiryu's frame and drawing a

fresh spray of blood from his lips.

Yet, if one looked closely, Ohma hadn't struck with a "fist"—he had struck with

an open "palm."

Thump—

Ohma rolled over, sitting down beside Kiryu, completely spent.

Noticing Kiryu was still conscious, though temporarily robbed of speech, Ohma

wheezed out an explanation between gasps:

"This technique is the Niko Style's [Redirection Kata — Chi-Blocker]... The same

trick Niko used to stop my rampages. It suppresses the autonomic nervous

system."

"The reason you still think Tokita Niko is alive... is probably because you

abused [Fallen Demon], ending up with auditory hallucinations and memory damage,

just like I had before."

"Since your nervous activity's suppressed, at least your condition won't get any

worse."

"6—Let's leave it at that."

Ohma let out a long sigh, his fatigue so crushing he couldn't even lift his

head.

"Today's match is over."

"After this... maybe I'll come looking for you to settle old scores, or maybe

you'll still want to kill yourself. Either way... I want to face your actual

choices, not deal with some raving lunatic manipulated by phantom voices and

scrambled memories."

"Damn it... you still managed to clip my vitals at the end there. Hurts like

hell..."

Ohma rubbed his chest, coming away with a palm full of blood. "..."

Kiryu remained silent, staring blankly up at the sky.

He probably wanted to say something, but he lacked even the physical energy to

twitch. Besides, did he even have the right to speak anymore?

"Speaking of which—"

Ohma asked, curiosity flickering in his tone. "I only just got back to The

Inside. How did you manage to find me? Though, you don't have to answer if you

don't want to."

"—Someone... told me."

Kiryu rasped out weakly. "They've been operating inside The Inside lately...

They went out of their way to pass your movements on to me, Ohma-kun."

—!

Filtering out random independent intruders and matching it against the current

chaotic state of The Inside, realization struck Ohma like a bucket of ice water.

"The ones who reached you... Was it IDEAL? Or The Worm?!"

Kiryu blinked sluggishly. "Probably them... yeah..."

Perhaps calming down slightly, Kiryu answered mechanically, without any intent

to hide anything—mostly because his brain was too fried to keep track.

"If it was them, is there a problem?"

Ohma's brow furrowed deep. Something felt deeply wrong here.

Was Kiryu being targeted? Or was he the target? What exactly were these criminal

syndicates plotting by infiltrating the Fourth Turtle District?

"...?"

"...?"

Failing to connect the dots after a moment's thought, Ohma prepared to stand up

and call out to Ren Shiroki to get Kiryu medical attention.

Right at that moment, a dark shadow abruptly rose from the gloom in the

distance, leveling a tranquilizer rifle and squeezing the trigger.

Whoosh!

A pneumatic hiss cut through the air as a heavily-loaded tranquilizer dart

punched straight toward Ohma's upper arm.

Under normal circumstances, such a cheap, petty ambush wouldn't stand a chance

of landing. But Ohma had just fought a grueling, high-intensity battle, taking a

direct hit to his vitals from Kiryu, leaving his stamina completely bottomed

out.

"Tch!"

Just as Ohma gritted his teeth, preparing to force his exhausted muscles to

intercept it, Kiryu suddenly lunged upright beside him, throwing his own body

into the dart's trajectory to shield Ohma.

Kiryu couldn't even tell whether the projectile was a live bullet, a

tranquilizer dart, or a lethal poison, but he threw himself in front of it

anyway.

Ohma hadn't killed him yet—he would never stand by and watch Ohma die here!

"6—"

The next fraction of a second—Whoosh!

On the other side, Ren Shiroki broke into an explosive sprint. He closed the

distance in a blur, launching into a ferocious side-kick that blasted the two

tangled men out of harm's way, while burying the incoming tranquilizer dart deep

beneath his heel.

Crash—!

Ohma and Kiryu tumbled across the dirt, kicking up a thick plume of dust and

leaving long, skid-mark trenches in the earth.

When Ren planted his foot down with crushing force, the sheer impact

reverberated through the ground, parting the lingering fog like a shockwave.

"Ah~~~ Haa—!"

Ren exhaled a massive, chest-clearing breath, feeling wonderfully refreshed.

"The solemn battle of destiny is over. Now comes the fun part: a good

old-fashioned street brawl!"

He bared his teeth in a wide grin, turning his gaze toward two familiar faces

emerging from the shadows ahead.

The elite enforcer and professional assassin for IDEAL—[The Caracal] Billy

Greco;

And the veteran assassin-master of Kenpo—[The Hundredfold Slaughter] Paklong!

"..."

"..."

If the clash between Ohma and Kiryu had been a fateful collision of "Martial

Arts" and "Obsession," these two sudden arrivals embodied pure, unadulterated

pitch-black malice.

They weren't martial artists pursuing enlightenment; they were cunning,

cold-blooded predators operating purely for profit!

Memories surged through Ren's mind.

The Worm organization had deep, tangled roots with Ohma; the dark conspiracy

behind the murder of Tokita Niko had borne the unmistakable fingerprints of "The

Worm" all along.

And now, Billy and Paklong—were these two operating on a contract for The Worm,

sent here to hunt down and capture Tokita Niko?

Well, none of that mattered.

The only thing set in stone was that, within the ecosystem of Ren Shiroki's

Inside, these two had just drawn aggro. There was no avoiding this fight!

"..."

"..."

Ren slowly raised his hand, curling his fingers in a mocking beckoning motion.

—Ready—?

—Fight!

☆☆☆

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