On the other hand, Tom Lee and Jinchoel Park had also defeated codename HH. A drone was capturing all of this and broadcast it all across the whole global underworld.
Manager Kim who was also fighting other fodders also finished their fights.
A man wearing a white mask came into the scene followed by a black man. Baki's instincts were suddenly screaming with excitement. The opponent in front of him is a serious one. A mad grin appeared on Baki's face.
Seeing the newcomer, Tom Lee said with a grin, "... Oh my! Are you the trump card left by the Black Market?" Then his grin became ferocious, "By the way, what have you done with my members?"
But the man didn't reply, seeing this Tom Lee approached him with a smile, "Tch! You're disappointing–" Before he could finish his words, he was flipping upside down by the newcomer. As he was falling, the newcomer back kicked him in the face sending him flying.
Jinchoel Park was shocked seeing the scene. But he was more shocked by what he saw next. Suddenly the newcomer was sent flying from his spot crashing into a wall. Baki appeared before him. Baki was skipping on his feet.
The masked man pulled himself from the rubble. He wiped dust off his shoulder.
The masked man stepped in and threw a straight punch. Baki's head snapped to the side—the fist passed through empty air. Baki was already inside his guard. A hook slammed into the man's ribs.
The masked man grunted but twisted with the impact. His elbow came around fast, catching Baki on the temple. Baki stumbled back two steps.
"Not bad," Baki said, rolling his neck.
The masked man didn't talk. He rushed forward, footwork clean and tight. A low kick swept toward Baki's lead leg. Baki lifted his knee, blocked it, then fired a front kick. The masked man shifted, redirected it with his palm, and closed the distance.
They traded. The masked man slipped a jab, countered with a liver shot. Baki ate it, barely flinched, and threw a wild overhand. The masked man ducked under, pivoted behind him, and kicked the back of Baki's knee.
Baki dropped but rolled forward, popping back up instantly.
"Wonderful! It's really wonderful!" Baki said, eyes bright.
The masked man moved again. This time he faked a high kick, dropped it into a sweep. Baki jumped it but the masked man was already rising, knee aimed at Baki's chin. Baki twisted midair, took it on his shoulder, and grabbed the man's leg.
He yanked hard.
The masked man hit the ground. Baki stomped down. The man rolled, the heel cracked concrete where his head had been. He swept Baki's planted leg. Baki fell but caught himself with one hand, spinning his body and kicking out. His heel caught the masked man in the chest, launching him back.
Both stood.
The masked man's breathing was heavier now. Baki's grin hadn't faded.
"Sometimes I wonder," Baki said. "Am I mad that I enjoy fighting so much?"
He blurred forward. The masked man raised his guard, angled his body, tried to redirect the punches. But Baki's combinations came too quick. A jab. A cross. A hook to the body. An uppercut.
The masked man blocked three, absorbed two, slipped one. But the seventh punch—a straight right—crashed through his guard and snapped his head back.
The masked man staggered. Baki didn't let up. He stepped in, grabbed the man's wrist, and yanked him into a knee strike. The masked man twisted his torso, taking it on his side instead of his gut, and fired back an elbow. It clipped Baki's jaw.
Baki laughed.
He shoved the man away, then charged again. This time the masked man was ready. He sidestepped, used Baki's momentum against him, and slammed an elbow into the base of Baki's skull as he passed.
Baki's vision blurred for a second. He shook it off, spun around. The masked man was already moving, low and controlled, aiming a precise kick at Baki's knee joint.
Baki lifted his leg just in time. The kick glanced off. He countered with a roundhouse. The masked man ducked, came up inside, and drove a palm strike into Baki's solar plexus.
Air burst from Baki's lungs. His grin widened.
Then he grabbed the man's arm.
"My turn."
Baki pulled him close and headbutted him. The mask cracked. The masked man reeled. Baki followed with a brutal hook to the ribs, then another to the same spot. The third one made something break.
The masked man coughed, but his eyes stayed sharp. He drove his thumb toward Baki's throat. Baki leaned back, the thumb missed by an inch. He grabbed the man's wrist, twisted it, and threw him over his hip.
The masked man hit the ground hard. Baki dropped a knee toward his chest. The man rolled, the knee cracked pavement. He kicked up at Baki's chin from the ground. Baki caught the foot, twisted, and the masked man had to flip with it or his ankle would snap.
He landed on his feet, breathing hard. Blood dripped from under his cracked mask.
Baki stood across from him, chest rising and falling steady. His grin was back, bigger than before.
He blurred forward one more time. The masked man tried to sidestep but Baki read it. His fist crashed into the mask dead center.
The white mask shattered. Pieces scattered across the pavement, revealing the face beneath—Asian features, cold eyes.
The man's expression didn't change even with his face exposed. He just stared at Baki.
Baki's grin stretched wider. "There you are."
On the other hand, Manager Kim squared up with the black man. Both pulled knives.
The black man came in fast. His blade went for Manager Kim's throat in a straight thrust. Manager Kim slapped the wrist away with his left hand, stepped off the line, and slashed at the man's forearm. The blade bit flesh. Blood welled up.
The black man didn't flinch. He reversed his grip and stabbed down at Manager Kim's shoulder. Manager Kim raised his arm, redirected the blade with his knife, and drove a front kick into the man's thigh. The leg buckled slightly but the black man stayed upright.
Manager Kim moved in. He slashed high, forcing the guard up, then cut low across the man's ribs. The blade opened a line through his shirt. More blood. The black man's expression didn't change. He lunged forward, ignoring the wound, and thrust his knife at Manager Kim's gut.
Manager Kim pivoted, the blade passed by his side. He grabbed the man's knife hand with his free hand and slammed his elbow into the man's face. Nose crunched. Blood sprayed. The black man didn't react. He twisted his wrist free and slashed at Manager Kim's neck.
Manager Kim ducked under it and cut across the back of the man's knee. The tendon split. The leg gave out. The black man dropped to one knee but immediately swung his blade in a wide arc. Manager Kim stepped back. The knife missed by inches.
The black man stood back up on his damaged leg. He limped forward, knife held low. Manager Kim watched his movement. The leg was compromised but the man wasn't slowing down much.
Manager Kim shifted his stance. He led with his knife hand now, keeping it extended. The black man came in again, slashing at Manager Kim's extended arm. Manager Kim pulled it back, let the blade pass, and kicked the damaged knee. It buckled harder this time. The black man dropped again.
As he fell, he stabbed upward. Manager Kim twisted but the blade caught his side, carving a shallow line. Manager Kim gritted his teeth and drove his knife down into the man's shoulder. The blade punched through muscle, scraped bone.
The black man grabbed Manager Kim's wrist with his free hand. His grip was strong. He pulled Manager Kim down and headbutted him. Manager Kim's vision sparked but he didn't let go of his knife. He twisted the blade in the wound. Something tore inside.
The black man's grip loosened slightly. Manager Kim yanked his knife free and slashed across the man's face. The blade cut from cheek to jaw.
The black man finally let go. He tried to stand but his knee wouldn't hold anymore. Manager Kim kicked him in the chest. He fell backward, hit the ground hard.
Manager Kim stepped over him. The black man tried to raise his knife. Manager Kim stomped on his wrist. Bones snapped. The knife clattered away.
The black man stared up at him. Still no fear. No pain. Just empty eyes.
Manager Kim drove his knife into the man's throat. Blood bubbled up. The black man's body jerked once, then went still.
"What the? Being less sensitive to pain is one thing, but from the beginning till the end, showing no emotion is something else."
Across the area, Baki was still grinning at the now unmasked man.
Tom Lee pulled himself up from where he'd crashed. He laughed. "Hey kid," he called to Baki. "Leave some fun for me."
Manager Kim, who had just finished his opponent was shocked as he looked at the mask man's face.
The global underworld was watching.