How many months and years have passed since I began studying Kazama-Style Aiki Jujutsu? Before I realized it, I had become the third most senior disciple in this dojo. Even so, I can hardly say I have fully grasped its principles.
Compared to physical training, this training is far longer, a repetition so endless it could make one faint—but I do not find it a burden. This is also training. If so, then I can only enjoy it. Repetition after repetition. My master is already over ninety, yet I still cannot defeat him. And that is fine. That is good. A goal is best when it is always set high.
Incidentally, my master, Ryūzen Kazama (風間 柳禅), was a Nen user. Back then, he apparently thought he didn't even need to use Nen.
He saw at a glance from my muscle structure that my muscles were not for combat, from my footwork and breathing that I was still a beginner in martial arts, and from the flow of my aura that I had fought only a handful of battles against Nen users.
Truly a master… He was only impressed by the total volume of my aura and the high level of my basic techniques.
My master's total aura was less than a quarter of mine when I first entered his tutelage. According to him, his Ken's duration plateaued at a certain point, and that made him realize that even with less aura, one could overwhelm others through pure skill.
That, he said, was the beginning of Kazama-Style Aiki Jujutsu.
Even my master did not believe he had mastered it yet, and so he trained every day alongside me and the other senior disciples. Thanks to his being a Nen user, my own Nen training progressed more smoothly than ever. Joyful days passed in the blink of an eye.
In recent years, my Ken's duration has not increased… Has my total aura finally reached its limit? Well, that's fine. These days, I can keep Ken for so long that I even train in other disciplines while maintaining it. Perhaps I have too much aura anyway. I will not neglect my basic training, and I will only aim to reach the ultimate in softness.
My muscles have weakened considerably. It cannot be helped—I am already over sixty. I am about the same age now as my master was when I first entered this dojo. I wonder… could I defeat the master of that time now…?
During my training, through inter-school matches, I realized that the Shingen-ryu also had techniques that aligned with the way of softness. I once foolishly believed that Kenpō was nothing more than striking down an opponent with blows. How shameful. Shingen-ryu Kenpō could truly be called a martial art that unites hard and soft.
Of course, I have no intention of abandoning Kazama-Style Aiki Jujutsu now.
My master has died… at the age of 106. Of old age. Even a master cannot triumph over aging…
Three days before his death, we had a sparring match, and as a result, I received the proof of full transmission. I cried like a child that day.
And then, only three days later, he was gone… far too sudden.
He must have sensed his own time approaching… That is why he gave me the opportunity to receive full transmission before his passing. I am certain of it.
Countless people attended his funeral. Not only his disciples, but townsfolk and even people from other schools came to pay their respects. Such was his virtue and how deeply he was loved. I felt proud, as though it were my own honor.
His face in death was so peaceful. I, too, wish to depart this world in such a state.
Though my master, who was like a second father to me, has passed, I cannot dwell in sorrow. I have a mission: to master the ultimate principles of softness and to spread my master's teachings across the world.
Of the two senior disciples who received full transmission before me, one inherited the master's dojo, and the other established his own in Jappon.
Then I shall build a dojo outside Jappon and spread our teachings worldwide.
To that end, I changed my name. I took my master's name and added part of my own. Ryūshō Kazama (風間 柳晶)—that is my name now. If this name spreads, so too will the name of Kazama-Style Aiki Jujutsu's founder, Ryūzen Kazama.
This is also my renewed pledge to lay my bones in this world.
The time I have spent in this world is far longer than in my original one. It is now difficult to even remember my former world. I have no hesitation about being buried in this world. My only regret is that I could not fulfill my filial duty to my father and mother.
If only I could apologize to them, even just once…
◆
I am now heading toward Heaven's Arena.
One month has passed since I left Jappon. As I traveled, pondering where to build my dojo, I heard rumors about Heaven's Arena.
Heaven's Arena—soon to be known as the holy land of savages. Currently, it is said to be the tallest building in the world… Or was it the fourth tallest? Perhaps I misremember. After all, it has been fifty years since I used my [Original Knowledge / Orishuno Tokuten]. I could hardly recall the "source material" now.
Still, Heaven's Arena… what a nostalgic name. I remember thinking of the "original story"… No, that may be wrong. That was fiction, but this world now exists in reality.
To call it mere fiction or "source material" would be an insult to all who live here—an insult to my master himself. That cannot be allowed.
In any case, if Heaven's Arena exists now, I must take advantage of it. By continuing to win there, Kazama-Style will receive great publicity. It will help spread my master's teachings and serve as my own training. Truly, killing two birds with one stone.
Indeed, fighting practitioners of other schools or self-taught fighters is a valuable experience. I have fought in inter-school matches and against dojo challengers, and each was refreshing. Techniques and abilities I had never seen before—and how best to respond to them. Some opponents even possess abilities against which Aiki is difficult to apply.
Even at this age, I am still lacking in experience. That only makes training worthwhile.
It took me about two years to become a Floor Master.
Reaching the 200th floor was easy, but from there, it became time-consuming. Not because the 200th-floor fighters were strong—very few could truly be called powerful Nen users.
I initially thought becoming a Floor Master would be simple, but it wasn't.
The system was the problem. At first, it was fine—they underestimated me for being an old man. But after four wins, they became wary and began avoiding matches.
Thankfully, I managed to fight before my preparation period expired. Still, it was a waste of time.
I thought I could now build my dojo, but I had miscalculated.
The funds I had saved, plus the prize money earned up to the 200th floor, were insufficient for establishing a dojo.
I pondered what to do, but the solution came quickly: a sponsor offered support—under one condition.
The condition was simple: to build the dojo in the city where my sponsor's home is located, on the Yorbian continent.
It seems his granddaughter wanted to learn martial arts for self-defense. However, he didn't want her to become too rugged, so a martial art that even a frail old man like me could practice seemed ideal.
…It is not something one can learn quickly, and as a martial art, injuries are inevitable—but he understood this. He assured me that he wouldn't cut off support or seize the dojo if self-defense wasn't fully achieved. He also said I need not give his family any special treatment.
He seemed trustworthy. So I gladly accepted his support.
It would take about six months to build the dojo, so I spent that time on promotion, moving preparations, and my own training—something I could never give up.
By the way, I resigned as Floor Master when leaving Heaven's Arena. I would soon be busy training disciples.
The dojo is complete. Naturally, it is a Jappon-style dojo. It is even grander than my master's dojo, which gives me some pause.
I am still my master's disciple, and to own a dojo grander than his feels inappropriate. But it cannot be helped. Better this than to disgrace his name with a shabby dojo.
Well then, life is about to get even busier.
◆
Five years since opening the dojo. Disciples are increasing rapidly, already over a thousand.
In truth, more wish to join, but even a large dojo has its limits.
Moreover, proper instruction cannot reach everyone. My body is only one, but the disciples are many. Even if I teach several at once, reaching all of them is difficult.
In fact, I even have the sponsor's granddaughter—my very first disciple—help with instruction. She is exceptionally gifted and diligent, improving at an astonishing rate. It feels wrong to have her act like an instructor, as she could progress further if she focused solely on her own training…
If only I had other instructors, assistant masters…
Thinking so, I had an idea. Yes, I would rely on my two senior disciples in Jappon. I took up my brush, explained the situation, and requested that they send capable instructors.
After about six months, three martial artists visited the dojo. I remembered all three—they had once been my junior disciples at the master's dojo. They had read my letter and volunteered to help.
I was grateful. That they would come willingly to this foreign land…
All three were fully capable of serving as instructors. This resolved our shortage, and we even established branch dojos. Among the three, the most skilled became the branch head.
Everything was going smoothly—until the day one man appeared at the dojo…
…Strong. Unfathomably so.
He looks to be over sixty—an age I can hardly judge, given my own years. Yet his body is honed to its utmost limit. Tightly refined muscles, not for show but forged solely for martial arts.
…The ultimate form of what I once sought—this man possesses it.
And not just that. His face radiates confidence, but not arrogance. His steps, breathing, and every gesture let me sense that he has reached the pinnacle of martial arts.
He seems to have come to test his skill. I understand immediately. Of course. That is not the face of someone seeking to become a student.
…Can I defeat this man…?
Heh. My blood boils despite my age. I calm my heart and accept his challenge.
Five minutes have passed since we faced each other.
Around us, the disciples sit in seiza, holding their breath. None speak a word.
Naturally. The pressure of our auras fills the dojo. My full power against his. Some disciples even faint under the weight of our aura.
He provokes me, but I do not move. My style is to use the opponent's movements and strength. I can attack first, but I doubt it would work on him. Better to devote all my senses to feeling his movement and wait for his attack.
He moves… I feel it. In that instant, he closes the five meters between us—not invisible to the eye, but at a speed that makes sight nearly useless.
Then comes an attack that even my trained vision, enhanced with Gyo, cannot follow. Later, I realized it was a straight punch—but at that moment, it left even sound behind.
The fact that I could react was the fruit of my training. His aura flow, muscle movement, and breathing were all first-class, yet I sensed the faint difference when he shifted into attack. Without that, had our ages been reversed, I would have fallen in an instant.
My body reacted before my brain, seizing his wrist and applying a technique unconsciously. I twisted the joint and spun him half-around. He reacted, leaping with the motion to avoid landing headfirst.
If I let him go, I would lose my chance. As his head passed near the ground, I swept at it, accelerating his rotation further.
As expected, he missed his landing timing. While he was still in midair, I struck his chin with a palm strike imbued with about seventy percent of my aura, slamming the back of his head into the floor.
He managed to defend with Gyo and take a partial ukemi. It wasn't much damage, but no matter. He couldn't fully protect his brain from rattling. I immediately moved in for the follow-up.
I gathered all the aura I could into a single finger and used Ko. Surely this would surpass his defense.
I thrust for a vital point to knock him out—at that moment!
A tremendous impact struck my whole body, and before I knew it, I had smashed through the dojo wall and was blown outside…
...
◆
After descending the mountain, a few years passed. I wandered through various dojos, fighting strong opponents, but… somehow, it wasn't enough.
At some point… I stopped attacking first and began waiting for the opponent to strike.
At some point… I got used to immediately taking the hands of those I'd just lost to, without a moment's hesitation.
…That's not it. That's not the fight I seek. The pinnacle of martial arts I'm looking for…
The next dojo is here. Kazama-ryu Aiki Jujutsu, huh? Supposedly, the head of this dojo is a former Floor Master of Heaven's Arena.
A Floor Master, huh. There weren't that many strong ones among them. I thought to myself that this place would probably be another disappointment as I visited the dojo.
The dojo master I found there was an old man. Definitely older than me. Around 170 cm tall, maybe 50 kg at most—a scrawny old twig. Judging by his muscles, he might actually be more fragile than an average person.
If I go all out, I'll break him… I thought—then it hit me.
!! What a massive aura…! Where in that body is he hiding that kind of aura?
And not just that. His aura is as calm as a still sea. I have the larger aura pool, but in control and refinement… he might be beyond me. His muscles are ordinary, but in the martial sense, he's different. His footwork, his breathing… has he reached a different pinnacle of martial arts than me?
…Interesting.
I never thought I'd meet such a formidable opponent here. The world truly is vast.
Five minutes passed as we faced each other. I tried to provoke him into attacking, but he didn't respond at all. He was like a willow in the wind.
Fine. This is exactly what I've been seeking. To take the initiative, to strike first—not waiting for the opponent's attack. Here I go! Don't you dare fall from just this one blow!
A step so powerful it cracked the floor, closing the distance. He didn't seem to react… but I wouldn't let my guard down. Anything can happen in a battle between Nen users. After decades of single-minded training, I unleashed my ultimate straight punch!
Before I knew it, he had grabbed my wrist. Unbelievable. I was sure he couldn't see my movement! Even when I tried to follow up, he used my own arm as a shield. Damn, he's good!
My wrist twisted. I knew immediately that he was about to throw me. This is bad. I jumped with the throw to avoid landing on my head—
What—!?
He kicked my head mid-throw to accelerate the rotation!
Tch! My timing was thrown off. I thought of countering while airborne, but at that moment, he launched his attack.
He's good… reading my intent to strike second, and countering it perfectly. I channeled aura into my jaw to block the attack, which carried around 70 offensive power.
Then he slammed the back of my head into the ground. I managed to take ukemi to minimize the damage. But the point wasn't the damage—it was to rattle my brain.
…Not good. My brain won't stop shaking for a fraction of a second. That's a fatal opening! Aura was gathering on his fingertip in an overwhelming amount. To concentrate that much aura into a single finger in an instant… what technique!
If I take that hit, it's over. I can't guard in time. To defend with Ko, I'd need to concentrate it at the same density, and a single mistake would be fatal.
100-Type Guanyin Bodhisattva!!!
Damn it! I used the 100-Type Guanyin instinctively… or maybe he forced me to.
…That's fine. Being pushed this far is actually exhilarating. But my opponent was attacking with Ko. That means every other part of his body was unguarded!
And that old man's physical durability is no more than that of an ordinary human… He's dead, isn't he?
…Damn it. I never intended to kill him. He was the first true worthy rival I'd met in years…
I barely registered the loud cries of his disciples as they worried for their master. Then I felt an aura behind me. I turned—and there he was, walking back into the dojo on his own two feet.
Impossible. How? Did he manage to guard with Nen in time!? If so, that's an unbelievable speed of aura shifting…
He took a stance. He's willing to keep fighting…
…To this man, and to everything that led me to this meeting, I give my gratitude.
I'd love to sit and have a drink with this man someday.
...
◆
I thought I was going to die.
What was that…? By the time I realized it, I'd already taken the hit. My subconscious reflexively guarded with Ken. Without that, I surely would have died. That's how lethal his strike was…
An unavoidable attack, too fast for me to even perceive. Even with my skill, all I could do was mitigate it. I staggered back to the dojo, scolding my wobbling legs to move.
As soon as I returned, the disciples rushed to me, but I silenced them. Their concern was touching—but the match wasn't over yet.
When he saw me, his face first showed shock, then a joyful smile. The face of a man starving for a worthy battle. For someone like him to feel that toward me… I could only be grateful.
All right. Let's continue.
From that battle, the challenger, Netero, became my friend. A true rival—though I call him friend. I never imagined I'd find someone like that. It made me genuinely happy.
That first battle ended in my defeat. The damage from the 100-Type Guanyin was too severe. I couldn't fight properly, and against Netero, I lost in under a minute.
I never expected it to be that Netero… I'd heard he'd gone on a dojo-breaking journey once, but I didn't think he'd come to my dojo now. It really is the world of Hunter × Hunter…
I sparred with Netero countless times after that. I don't remember the exact ratio, but I lost about six out of ten matches. And that's without him using the 100-Type Guanyin. If he used it, I'd have no chance.
My physical body isn't much more durable than an ordinary human. Even with aura defense, I can't block all damage.
Dodging or redirecting force works—but the 100-Type Guanyin is an unavoidable, body-agnostic aura construct. I can't deflect it. It's my worst possible matchup…
Through Netero, and with the cooperation of the Shingen-ryu, I integrated Nen training into Kazama-ryu.
Of course, only those deemed qualified were guided toward awakening Nen through meditation.
Several awakened, but very few were Enhancement types. …Maybe single-minded people rarely come to this dojo? No… Nen categories aren't always about personality.
My days training with Netero were truly joyful. Fighting someone equal or stronger always nourishes me.
One day, Netero invited me to become a Hunter, but I declined. I probably couldn't pass the exam. The Hunter Exam is brutal—you need more than just strength.
My stamina and durability are lacking. If there were an endurance marathon, I'd be the first to drop.
Besides, I'd rather spend that time training.
…He called me a training maniac. Coming from him, that's rich.
Even those days eventually ended. My death is near.
…A few days at most. It's just old age. I'm over 130. I've lived long enough…
I do have regrets… I haven't chosen a successor yet. I can't die like this… Perhaps my master felt the same.
I summoned someone to the dojo. A single old woman—my first disciple, the granddaughter of my benefactor. Even after her grandfather's death, she never stopped coming here, even while running his company. After passing it to her son, she trained here almost daily.
She has the position and the skill to succeed me. I entrusted her with the menkyo kaiden and the future of the dojo.
She was shocked and tried to decline, saying someone else would be more suitable. I persuaded her, saying I wanted to finally retire. Reluctantly, she agreed. I felt guilty for deceiving her—but it was my final selfish wish.
Then I wrote a letter to Netero. Just one line: "Do not neglect your training."
That's enough. He'll keep that promise. He might even prevent some unprecedented catastrophe in the future.
I didn't mention the uncertain future. Sharing knowledge I gained unfairly would be an insult to him and to the world.
The letter would reach him in a week. By then, I would already be gone.
I don't want anyone to see me in my dying moments…
It's time. Sitting alone in the dojo, I could feel the shinigami approaching… My heartbeat slowed… and would soon stop.
In the other world, I lost my parents—but I had a father. My master, Ryuzen.
I never saw my sister again—but I had brothers: my fellow disciples.
I never married or had a wife—but I had children: my countless disciples.
I barely remember my old friends—but I had a true friend: my rival, Netero.
I'm proud to have met them all.
I lived a life where I did everything I wanted.
In my life… not a single regret.
Thump… thump… thump…
Thump… …thump… …thump…
Thump… …thump…
Thump… …
…My heart… has stopped…
[Absolute Compliance / Geass] Deactivated
…Wait, WHAT!!?
What do you mean, "no regrets"!? I HAVE A TON OF REGRETS, DAMMIT!!!
Why the hell was I ready to die satisfied!? Am I stupid!? I'M ABOUT TO DIE FOR REAL!! I DON'T WANNA!! I'M STILL A VIRGIN!!
Over 130 years of purity!? Forget wizard—I'm a freaking Virgin Emperor!!!
I… I can't die like this! I refuse to die like this!!!!
Please! Activate, my third Nen ability!!!
I saved it for this moment! Please! Otherwise, I'll die full of regret!!!
Plea…se… no… more… my…con…scious…ness…
…
…
…
…
November 11, 1985 – Ryusho Kazama dies.
The third Nen ability, [Reincarnation / Stronger New Game], did not activate.
Age at death: 132. His funeral was attended by countless disciples, friends, and even the famed Hunter Association Chairman.
…
Prologue End.
The main story begins next time, now with dialogue.
Unactivated Third Nen Ability:
[Reincarnation / Stronger New Game]
Specialist Type Ability (important)
Allows the user to reincarnate into a new life, inheriting knowledge, experience, and aura capacity (physical ability depends on the new body).
Too unique to be used by a Manipulator-type main character (he hoped to shift into Specialist posthumously).
Restrictions:
Only activates upon death.
Any cause of death is fine except suicide (including intentional self-sacrifice).
The longer the user lives, the higher the activation rate, since long life is rare in this world.
Vow:
If the user has sex during their lifetime, this ability disappears.