“See you at school tomorrow!”
“Bye~ Bye~”
It was around 6 PM when we parted ways after hanging out all day in the hotel suite where Sasha was staying long-term.
As everyone dispersed at the intersection in front of the hotel, Rika and I walked toward the subway station to head ho.
“I’ve found you.”
Sothing huge dropped down from above.
Thud!!
The ground shook from its massive weight.
A towering height of nearly 2 ters, a body packed with muscle, and an aura that I couldn’t quite identify.
Just facing him, I instinctively knew that the man before was an incredible fighter.
The man, with his long, dark purple hair fluttering, finally spoke.
“Are you Kim Yu-seong?”
“…Who are you?”
I instinctively stepped in front of Rika as I asked.
I’d faced countless dangers before, but it was the first ti soone from the underworld had openly confronted in the middle of the street.
Usually, fights happened in secluded or controlled areas.
“Wow? What’s this? A movie shoot?”
“They both look so ripped.”
Passersby began to gather around us one by one.
So were already taking pictures or recording videos.
But the man ignored the stares and took another step closer to us.
“Fuma Kotaro, does that na ring a bell?”
“!”
I was startled the mont I heard that na.
After all, in the underworld, there was only one person I knew of who went by the na Fuma Kotaro.
The man who disappeared ten years ago, Senior Fuma’s father.
“Ryu-chan….”
Behind , Rika tugged nervously at my sleeve.
“It’s okay. Nothing will happen.”
I reassured Rika in a low voice and then stared at the man before , Fuma Kotaro.
“What business do you have with , Senior Fuma’s father?”
Fuma Kotaro glanced at Rika, who was hiding behind , and spoke expressionlessly.
“The girl with you, is she your girlfriend? So you turned down my daughter’s proposal, huh? I see why now.”
At that, Rika jumped in surprise and exclaid.
“I-I’m not in that kind of relationship with Ryu-chan yet!”
Yet…?
I hesitated at her choice of words, but given the situation, I decided to let it slide.
However, Fuma Kotaro stroked his chin, seeming intrigued by Rika’s words.
“With that much Yang qi and no girlfriend? Are you perhaps impotent?”
“I am not!”
This guy’s spouting dangerous nonsense!
For soone who made such an impressive entrance, he sure was talking a lot of nonsense.
But as we were chatting, more and more people crowded around us.
When the number of people surrounding us reached dozens, Fuma Kotaro grinned and said.
“Shall we get started, then?”
What?
There was no ti to ask.
Pop!
By the ti I realized it, a sharp kick was already flying toward my chin.
‘Oikaze?!’
That’s Hayate’s footwork.
Much more refined than what I’d learned, his fluid shifting of weight made it seem like he was sliding on ice, even on asphalt.
“Tsk!”
I barely dodged the kick by tilting my chin back and imdiately counterattacked, mindful of Rika behind .
Hayate Fourth Form.
‘Tatsumaki (Whirlwind).’
Like a whirlwind, wind wrapped around my arms, pushing back Fuma Kotaro, who had closed in.
Tatsumaki was Hayate’s only counterattack technique, able to deflect most strikes to the side.
But just like , he seed unhard, flipping in midair to widen the gap between us.
“Hmm, you’ve got the basics down. Your response just now wasn’t bad.”
The crowd cheered at the rapid exchange of blows they had just witnessed.
Waaah!!
“What just happened?!”
“That was aweso! It felt like watching a Hong Kong movie!”
Fuma Kotaro glanced at the crowd, seemingly bothered by their reaction, and muttered.
“Annoying.”
But since he didn’t act on it, it seed he had no intention of moving the fight elsewhere.
I asked Rika to step back since I couldn’t fight and protect her at the sa ti if sothing like that happened again.
Rika looked at with a worried expression but clenched her small fists and said.
“Ryu-chan, I don’t know what’s going on, but make sure you win!”
Her cute encouragent made chuckle as I nodded.
“I’ll go easy on him.”
With Rika mixed into the crowd and ready to fight, Fuma Kotaro shook his mane-like hair and spoke.
“You’re probably wondering why I suddenly appeared and challenged you to a fight. But I won’t answer that question right now. We can have a civilized conversation after the fight is over. For now, let’s focus on testing our skills as fighters.” 𐍂ä₦оβĘș
He took a stance again, saying sothing eerily similar to what Ivan had said during Golden Week—like rival, like rival.
The stance he took, with both hands in front of his chest, was the high guard stance of Hayate, focused solely on offense.
On the other hand, my stance, with one forearm raised in front of and the other hand at my waist, was the mid-guard stance of Hayate, balancing offense and defense.
Though we practiced the sa martial art, our stances differed based on our individual styles.
That’s why these are called different schools in martial arts.
Normally, we would have a master-disciple relationship, but since he disappeared, I had to learn Hayate from the Fuma clan’s secret manual, so I didn’t know whose Hayate was closer to the original.
But in these cases, the stronger one is usually considered more correct.
“Your eyes have changed. It looks like you’re finally ready to fight.”
Fuma Kotaro grinned as if he liked what he saw and leaned forward slightly.
‘He’s coming.’
The mont I sensed it, Fuma Kotaro’s long hair swayed like a wolf’s tail and rushed toward in an instant.
Hayate Third Form.
‘Arashi (Storm).’
His twin palms shot forward like a storm, attacking from all directions.
Arashi wasn’t a form with a fixed pattern.
It was a continuous barrage using not just fists and palms but every part of the body, depending on the user’s skill.
And with each repetition, the speed and power of the attack increased.
To keep up with the blinding speed of his attacks, I responded with my own Arashi.
Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!
Our palms clashed repeatedly, creating sharp bursts of air.
It was a tense standoff, with neither side giving an inch.
“Hmph!”
I blocked his strike aid at my collarbone with my palm and then countered toward his ribs, only to be blocked by his forearm.
He aid for my temple, but I retaliated toward his solar plexus. When he kicked my knee, I pressed down on his thigh in response.
Exchanging blows, trying to land a decisive hit, felt like solving a puzzle.
“Your reflexes are good, probably because you’re young!”
Fuma Kotaro seed to be getting into the fight, so I shouted back at him.
“Getting old isn’t sothing to brag about!”
Bang!!
As soon as I said that, our first solid hits landed on each other’s faces.
He probably let his guard down on purpose because of my taunt, but for a strategy that sacrifices flesh to gain bone, he seed to have taken quite a bit of damage.
The punch I landed squarely on his chin seed to have caused a mild concussion, as Fuma Kotaro shook his head from side to side.
On the other hand, I had deflected his punch with Tatsumaki just before impact, so I took less damage.
Of course, I couldn’t completely deflect it due to the difference in skill, so I bit my tongue slightly—it hurt like hell.
Since we both landed a hit, it was my turn to attack first.
I spread my arms wide, lowered my body slightly, and charged at the staggering Fuma Kotaro with a body tackle.
“Tsk!”
Realizing that I was trying to take the fight to the ground, he tensed his thighs and braced himself, refusing to fall.
His wooden sandals screeched against the asphalt as they were worn down by the friction.
But soon, the sandals reached their limit, the straps snapping, causing Fuma Kotaro to lose his balance.
Thud!!
Riding the montum, I succeeded in taking him down and imdiately tried to switch positions to apply a joint lock.
But having faced countless situations like this at the GOF, where fighters from around the world gathered, his response under pressure was seasoned.
He quickly twisted his hips to create space, then wrapped his arm around my neck and attempted a chokehold in return.
Sensing danger, I imdiately retreated. He let go and quickly got back on his feet, regaining his stance.
“……”
He’s a formidable opponent.
We had been fighting for nearly 10 minutes, yet neither of us had managed to inflict significant damage.
Even considering that we weren’t using qi because of the onlookers, his body—like Ivan’s—showed the sa strength it had in its pri, despite his age.
I made a suggestion to him, noticing that his breathing had beco heavier.
“It seems like you’re getting tired. How about we call it a day?”
But Fuma Kotaro just shrugged and said nonchalantly.
“I could go all day, you know?”
…Of course, you could.
If he had any intention of letting go, he wouldn’t have attacked in a place where civilians were walking around.
As I pretended to catch my breath, trying to think of a way out of this ss, I heard a roaring engine in the distance.
Vroooom!
It took guts to speed like that in the middle of Tokyo, but the skill it took to weave through the traffic was just as impressive.
The sports car screeched to a halt, leaving a long skid mark, and out stepped Ivan, the man in a suit I had seen at the hotel earlier.
“Kuroyasha! You finally showed your true colors!”
“Ivan?”
The situation was getting more and more ridiculous, and I found myself instinctively pressing my palm against my forehead.
‘This is insane.’
Reviews
All reviews (0)