With the referee's shout, the two fighters charged at each other and kicked simultaneously.
With a dull thud, their shins collided, producing the sound of bones clashing.
Imdiately after, Raian closed in and unleashed a rapid flurry of punches. But Mokichi blocked every single one with his palms.
"Ohh! Kure Raian is on the offensive, but Mokichi Robinson is blocking every blow—amazing!"
Sayaka narrated the action. When she turned to look at Rinji… that bastard was doing his howork again.
He clearly had no intention of properly comntating.
Sighing, she elbowed Rinji lightly on the shoulder.
"Oh."
Rinji looked up at the two trading blows in the ring and half-heartedly said, "Raian's attack speed is crazy. His APM's probably over 300."
Sayaka: "Wait… are you even comntating a martial arts match?"
While the two fighters were duking it out in the ring, Rinji and Sayaka were watching from the comntary booth.
"Let's sit over here. I think this spot has a better view."
"Eh… is it really okay?"
Just then, Karura pulled Elena over to the comntary area. Elena, seeing where they were, imdiately tensed up.
"It's fine."
Karura turned toward Rinji.
"Rinji, can Elena and I sit here to watch the match?"
"Oh, of course."
"Yay~"
Sayaka: "…"
Letting two non-participants sit in the comntary booth… well, it's not that big a deal.
Besides, the two girls were cute. Sayaka figured it was fine to let them sit and watch the match from here.
The view returned to the stage.
Raian's attacks grew fiercer while Mokichi stayed on the defensive. Almost every blow was blocked, but Mokichi rarely counter-attacked, and whenever he did, Raian managed to ward it off.
Standing to call the action, Sayaka announced into her mic, "Up to now, Kure Raian is leading in total strikes. Will he keep that advantage?"
Rinji kept scribbling howork, chatting with Karura now and then, and glancing at the ring. He noticed two things: first, Raian wasn't using any real technique—whether by choice or because he didn't know any was unclear; second, Mokichi wasn't fighting at full strength either.
After one fierce exchange, Raian was the one bleeding, while Mokichi remained unscathed. Unconcerned, Raian flicked his blood-covered hand, spraying drops into Mokichi's eyes.
"Mm…"
A cheap trick, but it worked. The mont Mokichi shut his eyes, Raian grabbed his collar and cocked a fist to smash down.
Smack!
Before the punch landed, Mokichi—eyes still closed—shot up a hand, laced his fingers around Raians's, and locked their hands together.
"So that's classical jujutsu," Rinji muttered.
Traditional schools differ from modern sport fighting—no targets are off-limits. Most public matches forbid finger-locks, but Kengan bouts are underground and have no such restrictions.
Still smiling, Mokichi twisted Raian's captured hand downward. An ordinary fighter's joints would have popped, but Raian suddenly laughed, rolled his shoulder and wrist in one motion, and reversed the hold on Mokichi's arm.
――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――
"Not bad—he broke the finger lock," Katahara said from the highest box, stroking his beard as he watched with interest.
Beside him, Kure Erioh chuckled. "Naturally—there's no lock the Kure Clan can't break."
Since the Asuka period, thirteen hundred years ago, the Kure had refined themselves into a battle lineage, marrying clan n to warrior-house daughters, or clan won to outsiders to bring in fresh "source." Generation upon generation, nearly every Kure was now a born fighter.
"Given that history," Katahara went on, "you strengthen yourselves by taking in new blood. So why object so strongly to your great-granddaughter being with young Rinji? His genes are among the world's finest—surely that benefits the clan."
"Don't be ridiculous!"
The mont Karura was ntioned, Erioh lost his composure.
"She's my most precious great-granddaughter! Why should she be used for clan breeding!"
"Ho ho ho! I, for one, am curious. If Rinji and the Kure Clan combined, what kind of monster would be born?" Katahara laughed loud enough to make Erioh grit his teeth.
――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――――
Back in the ring the tempo shifted again. Raian's raw talent was obvious, but his attacks remained wild. After escaping the joint lock, he suddenly found himself eating a series of crisp boxing hooks and crosses—Mokichi's stance had changed, and Raian couldn't adjust in ti, taking several shots to the head.
On Raian's last attempted counter, Mokichi caught the incoming wrist and hurled him with a shoulder throw. Raian flew head-first into the floor and blood spattered.
"Forgive ," Mokichi murmured, tracing a little cross over his chest. "I can't show you rcy."
"Rest and peace."
Ordinarily, no one gets up after landing head-down like that. Ordinarily.
Crunch.
Mokichi had taken only two steps when he felt a chill—coming from behind.
Raian pushed himself upright, head still bleeding from the slam. Veins bulged; his skin darkened toward purple. Mokichi didn't know what it was, but the pressure rolling off his opponent told him this was about to turn savage.
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