Chapter 202: The Ashura
What drew Ren Shiroki to this place was a "feeling."
Turning the corner of a bustling commercial street, he found two men preparing
to trade blows in a secluded, empty parking lot.
One was Ren's acquaintance—the man nicknamed "The Superman," Lihito (real name:
Ichiro Nakata).
Standing opposite him was a youth around twenty-five years old. He wore a hooded
jacket, stood just over 180cm, and weighed roughly 85kg. Even through his
clothes, the defined silhouette of his musculature was clear. He was lean,
athletic, and possessed the classic "V-taper" of a professional fighter—broad
shoulders narrowing into a tight waist.
Visually, Lihito—at 188cm and 102kg—was significantly taller and bulkier.
Yet, the hooded youth was already bouncing in a rhythmic warm-up, a savage smirk
playing on his lips under the shadow of his hood. His battle intent was a
physical weight in the air.
The youth had been the one to start this confrontation.
"..."
Ren Shiroki leaned against the wall, finding a comfortable position. He settled
in to enjoy the show with genuine interest.
In the center of the lot, the hooded youth continued his warm-up while
questioning Lihito.
"Hey, Blondie. Just to be sure... you know about the Kengan Association, right?
And that 'Kengan Annihilation Street Brawl' everyone's talking about?"
"Hah?" Lihito kept his hands in his pockets, clearly irritated by the
provocation. "So what if I do? You didn't grab me by the collar in the middle of
the street just to hear urban legends, did you?"
"Kid, you're getting a little too big for your boots!" Lihito bared his teeth in
a predatory grin. "You clearly know I'm a 'Fighter' of the underworld. Do you
really want to find out how many days you'll have to spend in a hospital bed?"
"You talk too much, pal."
The youth finished his stretches and reached up to flip back his hood. He
revealed a handsome, rugged face with calm yet incredibly aggressive eyes. His
black hair was a wild, messy mane—resembling a tangle of seaweed.
"If you're admitting to being an underground fighter, then I didn't waste my
time." The youth slowly tightened his fists. "I'm interested in this 'Street
Brawl' too. I want in on the fun. So... let's fight."
"..."
Lihito arched an eyebrow. "Give me a break. Don't tell me you're one of those
punks who took a week of MMA classes and thinks he's a street-fighting god?
Can't you tell the difference in our levels?"
Upon hearing this, the youth's smirk widened into a full-blown laugh.
"Difference? Obviously, I'm the stronger one. Stop dreaming, you moron!"
"..."
Veins throbbed on Lihito's forehead and hands. Ordinarily, he would have
attacked already, but having made several high-level "friends" recently, his
mood was surprisingly stable. He managed to suppress his temper—for now.
"Fine. I guess I'll have to teach you a lesson." Lihito tilted his body and
pointed a thumb at his chest. "The name's Lihito. My real name is classified.
You might as well give me yours so I know what to tell the paramedics."
"Hmph. Didn't expect a brute like you to care about manners..." The youth gave a
faint smile. "I am Ohma Tokita."
"Hah! I'll remember that, Ohma!"
Lihito cracked his knuckles, the sound like dry wood snapping. The pressure
radiating from him spiked. "Don't worry. I'll make sure to call you an ambulance
with a pretty nurse."
"...Better enjoy the women while you can," Ohma replied, dropping into a
stance—left leg forward, lead arm extended, right hand tucked near his ribs to
guard his jaw. It was a highly mobile, fluid posture. "Because you're going to
be horizontal for a long time."
Lihito's stance was far more aggressive. He spread his fingers wide, his arms
reaching out as he dropped into a low, wrestler-like crouch.
Crunch!
Ren Shiroki took a bite of an apple—one of the few Fusui Kure had pressed upon
him earlier. It made for an excellent spectator snack.
"Nice. That's perfect!"
Ren's mind hummed as his "memories" of the seaweed-haired youth surfaced.
Ohma Tokita.
Raised in the lawless district known as "The Inside," disciple of the Niko
Style. After his master, Niko Tokita, was murdered, Ohma was raised on the
philosophy that "losing or dying is simply a proof of being too weak." He had
spent years wandering, seeking to find and defeat his master's killer.
In the original timeline, Ohma would have challenged "The Nio" Komada in an
alleyway, been scouted by Hideki Nogi, and entered the Kengan matches that way.
But now, with the invasion of the Five Convicts and IDEAL, the "Annihilation
Tournament" had been replaced by the Kengan Annihilation Street Brawl.
Consequently, Ohma's "Path of Challenge" had shifted slightly.
But to a man like Ohma, the format didn't matter. Step one was always the same:
find a relevant powerhouse, beat them, and keep moving until he found the top.
It was only a matter of time.
Ren sat back, munching his apple, accurately guessing Ohma's current mindset.
However, "Fate" is often as irrepressible as a warrior's fighting spirit. As Ren
watched, a timid, scrawny middle-aged man accidentally stumbled upon the mouth
of the alleyway.
He was dressed in a standard salaryman suit, wore thick glasses, and his face
was a mask of post-overtime exhaustion. He peered into the parking lot, his eyes
widening in shock. He let out a small, stuttering gasp.
"W-Whoa! Is that... a fight...?"
"..."
Ren looked toward the voice, studying the man's face. Sure enough, this was the
man destined to be entangled with Ohma Tokita.
Kazuo Yamashita.
Age: 56. A regular office drone who had worked in the second sales department of
a Nogi Group subsidiary for thirty-four years.
In that potential future, Kazuo would be chosen by Chairman Nogi to serve as a
Kengan Association member and Ohma's personal handler. Right now, this was the
moment of their "First Encounter."
"――?!"
Seeing the two men in the parking lot about to clash, Kazuo panicked. He fumbled
for his phone to call the police, but some inexplicable force made him stop.
Ren tilted his head and smiled. "If you aren't going to call the cops, why not
just stay and watch?"
Kazuo froze, staring blankly at Ren. It was only then that he noticed this
"severely injured" spectator beside him was radiating a battle aura nearly
identical to the two men in the lot—perhaps even more intense.
Ren was covered in bandages, his shirt just draped over his shoulders, yet he
made Kazuo's entire body tremble with primal fear!
"Y-You... sir..." Kazuo's voice shook, but before he could say more, the battle
exploded.
Zip!
Ohma and Lihito charged toward each other simultaneously. In the blink of an
eye, Ohma seized the initiative!
POW!
A right straight fired out, slamming into Lihito's face. But Lihito took the hit
directly on his forehead, refusing to flinch even as blood began to trickle down
his brow.
"ORA!!"
BANG!
Lihito swung a heavy right roundhouse, slamming it into Ohma's left arm. The
force blew Ohma back, giving Lihito a second to snort the blood from his nose.
"That's a boxing trick. Using the hardest part of the skull to take the hit,
misaligning your impact point to shed the power." Lihito smirked. "I just picked
that up recently. Not bad, right?"
"..."
Ohma shook out his left arm and reclenched his fist. "Oh? I thought you were
just a brawling amateur. Turns out you've actually got a brain!"
The words had barely left his mouth when Ohma lunged again. He launched a
vicious knee that caught Lihito flush on the jaw.
THUD!
Lihito couldn't dodge in time. His head snapped back, and he stumbled several
paces before steadying himself. Blood poured from his nose and mouth.
What the hell was that? Lihito thought, his vision swimming. I almost blacked
out!
He thought back to the Boxing Expo—being one-shotted twice by Ren, witnessing
the monsters Retsu Kaioh and Gaolang. That day had opened his eyes. He realized
now that the world was full of "Real" powerhouses.
Ohma Tokita was clearly one of them.
"Heh. Guess I can't hold back anymore..."
Lihito spat out a mouthful of blood. He spread his ten fingers wide, holding his
hands horizontally in front of him.
Human "Grip Strength" is generally categorized into three types: Crushing
(squeezing), Supporting (holding), and Pinching (fingertip).
Lihito's fingertip strength was a biological anomaly. He could dig into human
flesh and muscle as easily as a hot knife through butter. This was his legendary
"Special Move": [RAZOR'S EDGE].
If he put his mind to it, he could slice through steel plating like paper.
"A sneak attack would be more surprising, but since there's no audience to hype
up, I think I'll just go with 'Pulverizing' you instead."
Lihito swung his left hand in a wide arc. Five deep, jagged gashes appeared
instantly in the concrete wall behind him.
"Get ready to bleed out, Ohma!"
"..."
The battle was reaching its peak. Ren Shiroki watched with a satisfied grin,
while Kazuo Yamashita beside him was sweating buckets from the tension.
Across the street from the alleyway, a short middle-aged man in a janitor's
uniform was pushing a small utility cart. His aura was cold, sinister, and sharp
as a needle. He had been wandering the area for a while, searching for
something.
Suddenly, the "janitor" paused. He turned his head toward the alleyway, his eyes
narrowing.
"Hm...?" (Yanagi Ryuko).
(End of Chapter)
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