Chapter 260: I Want to See "What You Like"
Sunglasses, tactical gloves, headbands—these were the kinds of accessories Fusui
Kure was usually seen with. She leaned toward a clean, functional,
military-inspired style.
Ren Shiroki understood her tastes perfectly. He checked his phone; there was
still plenty of time before the doubles event began, giving them a few hours to
wander the district.
"Let me think about what we actually need—"
Fusui looked around, grabbing Ren's hand and leading him forward.
The two were very spontaneous. They didn't bother with a shopping list; they
simply walked and bought whatever caught their eye. Their haul was already a
chaotic mix: high-SPF sunscreen, folding umbrellas, patterned fans, and
high-lumen tactical flashlights.
Technically, none of it was strictly necessary—the Kure Village was a modernized
town, after all—but the feeling of "preparing for a trip" together was something
both of them were quietly enjoying.
They stopped at several boutiques, picking up a few sets of fresh shirts and
trousers. However, for a Summer Festival, traditional attire was mandatory. That
was the primary goal of the day.
Ren pulled out his phone and called Kizaki of the Hanayama-gumi. Following the
Yakuza captain's recommendation, he led Fusui to a prestigious traditional
clothing shop tucked away on a side street.
The shopkeeper was an elderly woman who had provided garments for various Yakuza
syndicates for decades. Her reputation in both the surface and underworld was
impeccable, and her craftsmanship was legendary.
Upon hearing they were friends of the Hanayama-gumi, the old woman became
incredibly enthusiastic. She practically dragged Fusui into the fitting room to
take her measurements, insisting on personally designing a Yukata that would
suit a Kure at a festival.
Ren, now burdened with several shopping bags, sat on a wooden bench outside to
wait.
The area was a cluster of traditional artisan shops, a pocket of Old Tokyo that
tourists rarely found, though a few well-informed foreigners wandered past.
"Oh? Shiroki-kun! What a coincidence!"
Ren looked up to see Rama XIII, the King of Thailand, dressed in casual Western
clothes. Standing beside him was the "God of War," Gaolang Wongsawat.
Rama beamed. "I'm here to experience the local flavor. It's quite charming! Tell
me, where is Little Arisa?"
Ren checked his latest texts. "She's with Marco. Probably terrorizing the
street-food stalls."
Rama nodded and strolled into the shop to look at the fabrics. Gaolang, acting
as the royal guard, stayed outside with Ren.
Ren noticed that Gaolang's "dead-fish eyes" were constantly scanning the crowd,
his posture unusually tense.
"It's not for His Majesty. It's for me," Gaolang explained with a weary sigh.
"Anyway... if a very loud Burmese man shows up asking where I am... tell him
you've never heard of me." (Note: Referring to Saw Paing.)
After a while, the old woman finished measuring Fusui and finalized the Yukata
design, promising it would be ready for pickup in two days. Rama had wanted to
order a custom male Yukata on the spot, but the shopkeeper refused, claiming
"perfection takes time." Rama eventually convinced her by offering a sum of
money that would have made a banker blush.
After parting ways with the Thais, Ren and Fusui continued their stroll. The
district was even more crowded than they had anticipated. They ran into more
familiar faces: Cosmo Imai (The King of Stranglers) and his mentor, Takeshi
Wakatsuki (The Wild Tiger).
The two had both won their most recent Kengan matches and were headed to a
celebratory all-you-can-eat Wagyu buffet.
"I'm in top form!" Cosmo chirped, bumping fists with Ren. He pointed to the
faint scars on his face—remnants of the beating he'd taken from Speck. "Thanks
to Dr. Hanafusa, the healing was perfect. They're barely visible now!"
As they crossed into another block, Ren and Fusui bumped into yet another
acquaintance.
Katsumi Orochi.
Unlike the other pairs, the current Head of the Shinshinkai was wandering the
street entirely alone, which struck Ren as odd.
"Haha! Ren-san, small world!"
Katsumi scratched his head sheepishly. "I came out with my parents, but shopping
with them is... exhausting. I made an excuse and bolted."
He leaned in and whispered to Ren with a helpless grin, "Being around them makes
me feel like a permanent third wheel. They're too much."
Ren understood instantly. The bond between Doppo Orochi and his wife was
legendary in the martial arts world. During the Tokyo Dome tournament, Doppo had
famously promised to give a 1-billion-yen championship belt to his wife as a
necklace. Being the child of a couple that intense was a heavy burden.
"I feel for you, pal," Ren said. He glanced at Fusui before offering an
invitation. "We're about to grab some lunch. Want to join us?"
Katsumi smiled. "Sure! My treat."
However, during the meal, Ren and Fusui fell into their own world.
"Are you happy with the Yukata design you picked?" Ren asked curiously.
"I am!" Fusui's eyes crinkled. She tilted her head. "I have a photo of the model
wearing it. Want to see?"
Ren thought about it for a second. "No. I'll pass."
Fusui looked slightly dejected. "It's really pretty, Ren-chin. Are you not
interested?"
"Mm... let's put it this way: if you think it's pretty, that's enough for me,"
Ren said, rubbing his chin. "You picked what you liked. I'd rather wait and be
surprised when I see you actually wearing it."
"I want to see what you like, not what I expect. That's how you get that 'wow'
feeling, right?"
Fusui blinked her black-and-white eyes. She didn't say anything, but she broke
into a wide crescent smile and hooked her arm firmly through Ren's.
Katsumi Orochi followed them for a few more blocks before suddenly clutching his
stomach and let out a groan. He made an excuse about a "bad breakfast," bid them
a hasty farewell, and promised to buy the next meal.
Zip-zip!
Katsumi vanished around a corner. He hid in the shadows and wiped a bead of
sweat from his brow. "Phew! Being with those two makes me feel even more like a
third wheel than with my parents!"
After lunch, the "Summer Limited Doubles Event" was finally set to begin. Ren
and Fusui headed to the plaza to register.
Due to the massive turnout, the event was split into two stages. There were
three preliminary booths scattered across the district, each selecting a
"Semi-Finalist" to move on to the grand finale. Ren and Fusui signed up for
Booth 1.
While waiting for the start, they ran into Lihito, who was currently carrying a
heavy crate of energy drinks.
"Oho! Shiroki-boss! And the Kure girl! You guys are actually doing this?"
Lihito tossed them two chilled cans and took a massive swig of his own. Since
taking over S-Frozen Foods from the Nogi Group, he had become a Kengan member
and fighter, often handling deliveries himself when they were short-staffed.
He looked at them with confusion. "Are you guys here for the prize? Or just the
fun?"
"You don't lack for money. You could buy ten pairs of those glasses. And the
games are just standard carnival stuff—nothing special—"
Ren patted Lihito on the shoulder with a grin. "It's like a piece of art,
Lihito-kun. When people pour their heart and will into a 'Thing' or an 'Act,' it
becomes fascinating. That's what I love most."
Lihito crossed his arms, looking thoughtful.
The Preliminaries.
Ren and Fusui teamed up for the first round: The Sandbag Can-Toss.
The rules were simple: stand ten meters back and hurl a sandbag at a pyramid of
tin cans. You only had one throw. The score was based on how many cans were
knocked down.
This was a test of precision and range—Fusui's specialty.
"Hee-hee—"
The girl weighed the sandbag in her hand. She dropped into a throwing stance
and, for a microsecond, triggered her [REMOVAL]. The veins around her eyes
bulged.
ZIP!
The sandbag was thrown with the velocity of a bullet. It slammed into the center
of the pyramid.
But to everyone's shock, even though the hit was dead-center, only one can from
the bottom row was sent flying. The rest of the pyramid remained perfectly
standing, barely even wobbling.
Fusui froze in disbelief.
"The answer is inertia and friction!" the MC explained, sounding impressed.
"That lady threw the bag so fast that the bottom can was deleted before it could
transfer any momentum to the others! It's like the classic 'fast tablecloth
pull' trick! The pyramid stays!"
"Score: 100 points!"
Fusui: "..."
The girl's face went dark as she walked back to Ren. Lihito could only offer a
dry, nervous laugh. Ren, however, was brimming with confidence.
"Nice. That's perfect! My turn."
The next game was a test of raw power: The High-Striker Hammer.
Players used a large plastic mallet to hit a sensor. Higher force meant a higher
score. After a few amateurs finished their turns, it was Ren's go.
"Phew—"
Ren exhaled a cloud of heat. He gripped the hollow iron handle of the mallet
with both hands, coiling his entire core. He aimed straight for the sensor.
He hoisted the hammer high, his 36 trillion cells igniting for a concentrated
strike.
WHAM!
But mid-descent, because Ren had gripped the handle with too much "monstrous"
force, the hollow iron pipe collapsed and flattened in his hands. The shaft bent
into a jagged "U" shape before the hammer-head could even touch the sensor.
Deprived of its kinetic energy, the hammer head simply tipped forward and gave
the sensor a gentle, rhythmic tink.
"S-Score: 100 points!" the MC shouted. "A new low record! This contestant has
produced the softest impact in the history of this machine! Incredible!"
Ren Shiroki: "..."
He handed the mangled handle back to the staff with a quiet "sorry" and walked
back to the group, his face a mask of stone.
Lihito stood between the two "black-faced" powerhouses, sweating. Is it too late
for me to run away?
The third and final round of the prelims arrived. Ren and Fusui were currently
dead-last. They needed a miracle to qualify for the finals.
"Ready, Ren-chin?" "Nice. That's perfect!"
The two slammed their palms together. The MC stepped up to announce the final
game: Rock-Paper-Scissors (Janken).
Ten rounds. The winner of each round adds points to the team total.
Fusui: "..." Ren: "..." Lihito: "...?"
Without a moment's hesitation, Ren pulled out his phone and dialed Arisa.
"Arisa. I'm in a high-stakes Janken match. I need you to say ten hand-gestures
in order. I'll buy you and Marco all the ice cream you can eat when I get back."
"WHOO-HOO!" came the cheer over the phone.
That afternoon, Ren Shiroki became a living legend of the commercial district.
He achieved a statistical impossibility: a perfect 10-0 victory streak.
Booth 1 Winners: Ren Shiroki and Fusui Kure!
Thanks to the miracle of the third round, they secured their tickets to the
Grand Finale. Led by the staff, the two (with Lihito tagging along) reached the
main stage for the final event: The Fun Obstacle Course!
Unlike the doubles prelims, the finale allowed only one representative per team.
Fusui's black-and-white eyes shifted to Ren.
Ren smirked. "Nice. I'm going to scare the hell out of everyone."
Booth 3 finished their prelims shortly after. The winner arrived at the final
stage. Ren and the others didn't pay attention at first, until the MC asked the
third finalist for his name.
"Ah, using my real name is a bit formal for a fun day out. Just call me OB."
The MC looked confused.
The broad-shouldered man with an eye patch let out a weary laugh. "OB—Old Boy.
It means an alumnus or a veteran. I've been around the block a few times!"
Ren: "?" Ren: "..." Ren: "!!"
His expression cycled through confusion, realization, and total shock. It was
Doppo Orochi.
(End of Chapter)
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