Chapter 280: The Southern Comet
[DEE JAY'S STEPPING BEAT]—
A rhythmic suppression technique. First, stagger the opponent, then stomp onto
their knee to use it as a platform, launching the other foot to drive into the
opponent's face, pinning them under the weight of the descent. Unlike Ryu's
[Shoulder Throw] or Sagat's [Tiger Throw], this wasn't technically a "throw" in
the traditional sense, but when fused with high-speed striking, its startup was
nearly instantaneous.
And there was another factor—
Under Ren Shiroki's superlative sense of balance and physical coordination, the
motion could be frozen at any frame, allowing him to hold a "pose" perfectly for
the audience's benefit.
"Haha! The view from up here is great!"
Ren's right foot was planted firmly on Jose's left knee, while his left foot was
pressed into Jose's face. He scanned the gym with a grin. "Jose-kun, I know how
to do a German Suplex, but I can't exactly pause mid-air while I'm hoisting you.
I figured a stylish striking-throw would look better for the cameras!"
"..."
Veins throbbed on Jose Kanzaki's forehead behind his mask. He stabilized his
body in a half-kneeling posture, his arms swinging out in a pincer motion to
seize Ren's left calf.
The next second—SLAP!
Ren drove his left heel forward, kicking off Jose's face. The force launched
the 115kg wrestler backward into a series of rolls across the canvas while Ren
used the counter-force to perform a back-hop, resetting the distance.
Tap.
Ren landed steadily, dropping into a relaxed fighting stance. His posture was
looser than usual; though he remained bladed, his arms weren't tucked tight
against his body. He held his fists in a wide, rhythmic guard.
Gouki Shibukawa, a man of vast experience, bared his teeth in a grin. "Oho! A
kickboxing hybrid style? Ren-kun has some flashy toys in that box of his!"
Kugo Kurachi leaned in as well, impressed. "Kickboxing with that kind of flair?
The flow is magnificent!"
Ren didn't pursue. He waited for Jose to recover and stand back up in the center
of the ring.
"How was that, Jose-kun? Did you feel the beat?"
"It's just practice, so my Rhythm isn't quite as sharp as my Master's, but that
was a pretty clean sequence, wasn't it?"
Ren looked around at the crowd. To his disappointment, most of the spectators
looked stunned rather than excited. They hadn't quite processed the sudden
reversal yet, so the cheers were thin.
Ren bounced on his toes. "I guess once isn't enough. For a Pro-Wrestling debut,
a one-shot finish is way too boring."
"Tch!" "Nngh...!"
Jose spat out a mouthful of blood and rubbed his jaw where the boot had
connected. "You held back, didn't you?"
As a professional, Jose could feel it. Ren had pulled the power of that final
kick and had intentionally forfeited the chance to follow up on the ground.
"You really are a friend of Kureishi-senpai's," Jose muttered, lowering his
center of gravity. "I understand your level now... I can't beat you. But in this
ring? That doesn't matter!"
Ren tilted his head. "Exactly. It's Pro-Wrestling. We've got to give the people
what they want."
"Phew—THEN LET'S GIVE IT TO THEM!"
Jose exhaled a cloud of heat and charged at Ren once more.
Zip!
He reached out with his massive hands, seizing Ren's left shoulder and left
wrist. He drove his weight forward, attempting to ram Ren into the turnbuckles.
Ren retreated half a step, coiled his core, and drove his head forward.
[ZANGIEF'S HEADBUTT]!
CRACK!
A fighter's flexibility is often their greatest shield. Ren easily whipped his
head forward, his forehead colliding with Jose's face.
BANG!
The impact sent a spray of blood from Jose's nose. Stunned by the acid-like
sting in his face, the wrestler instinctively leaned back. Ren seized the
moment, bending deep and hooking both hands behind Jose's ankles. He threw
himself backward onto the sand, using Jose's own left leg as a fulcrum to drive
his foot into the wrestler's back.
Ordinarily, this was a move done by grabbing the arms and pushing the torso, but
Ren adapted it on the fly.
Reverse [RYU'S TOMOE NAGE]!
WHOOSH!
Ren's right foot snapped out, launching Jose over his head. The wrestler was
propelled across the ring toward the elastic ropes, the two men effectively
swapping positions.
Jose slammed into the ropes, the high-tension cords letting out a vibrating
roar.
BOING—!
The massive wrestler performed a tactical "break-fall" mid-air. He was bounced
off the ropes, performed a full backward rotation, and hit the canvas flat on
his back.
"GUUGH!"
Jose let out a low growl, coughing up saliva as the world spun. He lay
spread-eagled on the mat, his vision a blur of gym lights.
"Hahaha!"
Ren dropped his arms and began a slow, rhythmic stroll across the ring.
"Not just Kickboxing. I've got Karate, Sambo, Kenpo... a little bit of
everything in the 'Throw' category."
Again, he didn't follow up.
This time, the audience finally snapped out of it. The excitement in the gym
spiked, especially among the SJPW wrestlers. A roar of cheers and gasps erupted.
"Jose got tossed again?!" "It's not like the Master's Aiki. That was pure, raw
torque!" "Nice one, kid! Do it again!"
The shouts filled Ren with a surge of adrenaline. His muscles felt white-hot. It
had been a long time since he had fought for a crowd like this. He raised both
hands and began to clap rhythmically.
CLAP—!
The tempo increased, a steady, driving beat that acted as a countdown for Jose
to stand. The audience instinctively joined in.
CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! CLAP!
The sound of a hundred palms hitting in unison turned the gymnasium into a
pressure cooker of hype. Fusui, Sonoda, the wrestlers, the Judo cops—even
Shibukawa and Kurachi joined the beat!
Jose began to rise slowly.
In Ren's mind, the ink-wash lines accelerated their swirl. The feverish
atmosphere had finally drawn the attention of a specific "Master."
A powerful, "Superstar" silhouette emerged from the cheers. He leaned casually
against a corner post before dancing forward in time with the clapping.
He wore thick dreadlocks held back by a headband and a vibrant, yellow-and-red
tropical beach shirt paired with neon green trousers. Sunglasses, a heavy gold
chain, high-end headphones, and professional MMA gloves—he was a one-man party.
His name: Dee Jay. Jamaican fighter known as "The Southern Comet" and a global
music icon.
Always upbeat, always passionate, he lived for the intersection of music and
combat. He was constantly composing new tracks or calculating how to make a
crowd explode with a single move.
[...]
Watching his student lead the crowd in a rhythmic chant, Dee Jay adjusted his
sunglasses and flashed a row of brilliant white teeth.
[Oh! You want the roar of the fans, Buddy?]
[Baby, I don't mean to be a downer, but that's a tough gig you're signing up
for!]
Dee Jay's ink phantom drifted through the room, passing through Jose, Kurachi,
and the other wrestlers.
[Do you have any idea how much work these boys put in behind the scenes to win
those cheers?]
[Loving a Superstar is easy. Becoming one is a whole different track!]
[...]
Jose had finally reached his feet, staring at Ren through ragged breaths. Ren
offered a helpless, happy smile to the phantom in his mind. "It's not a math
problem, Sensei. Don't be so strict."
[OK, OK!] Dee Jay put his hands on his hips. [I can't say no to that much soul,
Baby! Let's do a soundcheck!]
"Nice. That's perfect!"
Ren hoisted a thumb high in the air, gesturing to Jose and the entire crowd. His
own spirit had reached its peak.
"OORA—!!"
Jose let out a thunderous roar. He lunged into Ren's range, unleashing a 1-2
combination of heavy straights. Ren didn't dodge; he tensed his muscles and took
the hits on his guard.
BANG! BANG!
Seeing the strikes fail, Ren performed a lateral shift. He and Jose began to
circle each other, trading rapid-fire flurries that blurred into a chaotic dance
of violence.
Bang! Pow! Snap!
The rhythm was locking in. Dee Jay couldn't resist snapping his fingers to the
beat.
[Yo! Yo! This is Dee Jay, and this is my rhythm!] [If you're a dreamer, stand
tall!] [If you won't give up, you gotta move!] [DO IT!]
Dee Jay tightened his fist, gesturing to Ren. [C'mon, let's DANCE!]
"HYAH!"
Ren stepped into Jose's reach. Jose fired a double-handed grab, the same move as
before, intending to seize Ren's arm.
But this time, as Ren prepared to break the grip, Jose suddenly leaned his body
back. Using his massive core strength, he used Ren's own momentum to whip the
youth away.
ZIP!
Ren was sent stumbling backward, his heels hitting the ropes. His offensive
rhythm was momentarily shattered.
Dee Jay waved his hands frantically.
[NO, NO, NO, Baby! That's off-beat!]
[Catch the Rhythm! Move with YOUR Rhythm!]
STOMP—!
Ren used his back muscles to "spring" off the ropes. He dropped his center of
gravity to the floor and launched a low-altitude charge, diving straight for
Jose's waist.
[ZANGIEF'S SIBERIAN EXPRESS]!
WHOOSH!
Ren's arms locked around Jose in a Sambo-style clinch. He twisted his entire
mass, upending the 115kg wrestler and driving him into a high-angle Powerbomb.
Jose's back slammed into the canvas with a bone-jarring crash.
BOOM!!!
[Haha—OK, OK!]
Dee Jay clapped along as the spectators erupted into a standing ovation.
"UNBELIEVABLE!!" "WHAT A FINISH!!"
There were no amateurs in the room. Everyone could see the technical gap—Ren
Shiroki had controlled the pace from start to finish.
But it didn't matter.
What mattered was the Fantastic energy of the exchange. The crowd couldn't stop
talking about the sequences they had just witnessed.
"Those two are absolutely fantastic!"
Kugo Kurachi crossed his arms, sharing a knowing look with Shibukawa. He let out
a boisterous laugh and shouted:
"DRILL COMPLETE!!"
(End of Chapter)
☆☆☆
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