Basketball Club.
"What! He shattered the backboard with a single dunk!"
Baseball Club.
"Pitching speed unmeasurable?! No way! Is the machine broken?"
Judo Club.
"Uooooh! It's like fighting a tree trunk!"
Tennis Club.
"He left a ball-shaped crater in the court!"
After touring the sports clubs that were holding trial sessions for new students, there were only a few places left to go.
Ichijo Academy, being a school primarily for the wealthy, had a surprising number of sports clubs for a humanities-focused institution, but by the third day, we had finally run out of options.
"Yes! Triple bingo!"
Kishimoto, who had drawn a bingo grid over the sports clubs in the promotional booklet, crossed off another square with a marker and let out a cheer of joy.
I stared at her with blank eyes and asked.
"Rika, how many sports clubs are left?"
"Hmm? Hold on a sec."
In the booklet she showed me, the only clubs without an X through them were the Track and Field Club, the Swimming Club, and the Kendo Club.
Honestly, at this point, there was no need to continue my club-crushing tour.
My physical abilities were abnormally strong, no matter who was looking.
I considered the possibility that the effects of being a comedy character might be at play.
After all, in romantic comedies, the muscular male characters are usually the comic relief.
They casually perform feats that defy common sense, and in some cases, they're practically immortal, surviving being hit by a speeding car or walking away from a helicopter crash unscathed.
If my body was influenced by such laws, then my current abnormal physical abilities would make sense.
Thinking it was about time to wrap up the experiment, I decided to knock on the door of the Kendo Club for my final stop.
"He's heeeere!!"
"Kim Yu-seong has shown up at the Kendo Club!!"
"Quick, call the kids who went to watch the swimming and track clubs!"
Somehow, a rumor that I was on a dojo-storming tour seemed to have spread throughout the school.
In reality, I was just trying out the clubs.
I had expected the place to be relatively empty since I came after school, but the Kendo Club's dojo was packed with a considerable number of students.
Just then, a microphone shot out from the crowd.
"Mr. Kim Yu-seong, how are you feeling right now!"
"Ah, please direct all interview requests through me, his manager."
By now, Kishimoto was fully in character, enjoying every moment.
She was even wearing a pair of black sunglasses she'd gotten from who knows where.
While she dealt with the student from the newspaper club on my behalf, I came face to face with the Kendo Club president, who had come to the entrance to greet me.
"So you're the famous Kim Yu-seong?"
I rubbed the back of my neck in embarrassment and replied.
"I don't know about famous, but I am Kim Yu-seong."
"I hear you're trying out all the sports clubs. The whole school is already buzzing about it."
Fuma Yukika, the Kendo Club president with dark blue hair tied neatly into a single ponytail, pointed her bamboo sword at me and spoke.
"But our Kendo Club won't be such a pushover."
At her charismatic declaration, the crowd filling the dojo erupted in cheers.
"Kyaa! I love you, sis!"
"As expected of one of the academy's three great beauties. She's not intimidated even in front of that human weapon."
"She's as beautiful as ever today. And she's got such a big heart."
Ignoring the crowd spouting their usual cringe-worthy lines without a filter, I gave a slight bow to Fuma Yukika, the Kendo Club president and a third-year senior.
"Please tell me the details of the trial."
Fuma Yukika then tapped the floor with her bamboo sword and said.
"A single-point match. The first to land a valid strike wins. How about it? I'll be your opponent."
"Sounds good."
This was the last one, anyway.
To be honest, it didn't matter if I won or lost, but I had never intentionally thrown a match.
That would be disrespectful to my opponent.
"Do you need bogu?"
"I doubt you have any that would fit me, so I'm fine."
"Then, to be fair, I won't wear any either."
"...I won't be responsible if you get hurt."
"That's my line."
With that, Fuma Yukika took a few steps back.
In the meantime, a female kendo club member with short red hair handed me a bamboo sword.
I gripped it lightly and swung it through the air, producing a menacing whoosh.
I felt like I was finally getting the hang of controlling my strength.
Until now, I often ended up using 50% of my power when I only meant to use 30%, but through my tour of the sports clubs, I had learned to control my own strength.
The decreasing amount of property damage was a result of that.
On the polished floor of the Kendo Club's dojo, she and I stood facing each other.
I, who didn't know how to wield a sword, stood in a natural stance, while my opponent, the kendo master Fuma-senpai, assumed a middle guard.
"Let's have a good match."
"Likewise."
We exchanged a slight nod in place of a formal bow.
The red-haired club member who had given me the bamboo sword stood between us.
She glanced back and forth between my face and the senior's, then raised her right hand above her head.
"Both fighters! Fight fair!"
In the next instant, her hand chopped down.
"Begin!"
***
"Men!"
The moment the match began, Fuma Yukika closed the distance to Kim Yu-seong.
A surprise attack.
It was a movement as swift as a swallow, impossible for an ordinary person's eyes to follow.
*Clack!*
'He blocked it?'
But the junior in front of her had blocked it with ease.
Unfazed, Fuma Yukika took a step back, then began to swing her bamboo sword again, finding her unique rhythm.
Someone as large as Kim Yu-seong should typically be slow.
And Fuma Yukika, who had often faced such opponents, was startled by the incredible speed of his reflexes.
'He didn't block by predicting the move; he saw it and then blocked.'
In truth, a fundamental characteristic of sports-oriented sword arts is the incredible speed of each movement.
Kendo was no exception, and in fencing, an official Olympic sport, fighters exchanged mental blows several times a second.
For him to cover that with sheer physical ability meant his dynamic visual acuity was astounding.
'But a fight isn't won on physical ability alone.'
"Do!"
As she shouted while swinging her sword, Kim Yu-seong moved to block his torso, only to hastily change the angle of his blade.
"Kote!"
This time, she feinted a strike to the wrist while actually aiming for the head.
As she deliberately made her calls and actions differ, Kim Yu-seong's reactions were a fraction of a second too slow.
'As I thought, his movements are simplistic.'
It was the footwork of someone who had never been properly trained.
In other sports, he might have overwhelmed opponents with his sheer physicality, but that wouldn't work in the world of kendo, where technique and speed were more important than size and strength.
'Time to end this.'
Using a secret technique in a place with so many onlookers was something to be avoided, but it wouldn't be a problem if no one noticed.
She aimed her bamboo sword at Kim Yu-seong and calmly gathered her breath.
She was about to use *Aku Soku Zan*, one of the Fuma clan's secret techniques, as a small show of respect for the junior who had come this far with no technique to speak of, when he spoke.
"...I'll end this with my next attack."
Kim Yu-seong, who had been purely on the defensive until now, suddenly said this as he raised the bamboo sword in his hands above his head.
With just that simple motion,
Fuma Yukika, the promising heir of a ninja clan, felt the threat of death for the first time in her life.
'I'm going to die, I'm going to die, I'm going to die, I'm going to die, I'm going to die.'
The presence of the man named Kim Yu-seong, which had felt harmless just moments before, turned terrifyingly ferocious.
This man hadn't never learned any techniques.
He had never had a *reason* to learn them.
Is the lion, the king of beasts, strong because it trains?
No, the man named Kim Yu-seong had simply been at the top of the food chain from the very beginning.
Fuma Yukika realized this only in the final moments before her death.
'Grandfather! I'm sorry!'
If only she hadn't stubbornly come to Tokyo, vowing to revive her fallen clan,
If only she hadn't, out of a petty need to satisfy her pride, insisted on fighting this man herself instead of letting another club member do it,
Could she have avoided death?
Her body instinctively froze in the face of the mortal terror she was feeling for the first time, and the slowly approaching bamboo sword felt like the blade of a guillotine.
The moment her head was about to fall—
*Tap.*
"I win."
Her life spared by the sudden deceleration of the blade, Fuma Yukika's legs gave out, and she collapsed onto the dojo floor.
"Thank you for the match."
As she watched his back recede coldly, Fuma Yukika's hakama was slightly damp.
***
"Aah! After going around to all those sports clubs, you ended up joining the Board Game Club!"
Watching Kishimoto speak as if it were all for nothing, I gave her a look of disbelief.
"You seem to be enjoying it quite a bit yourself."
"That's because it's fun!"
"Haha, you two always get along so well. It's your turn to draw a card, Ryusei."
Satoru, who had been a member of the Board Game Club from the start, had joined us, and the three of us were in the middle of a game of Halli Galli. Hearing him, I quietly placed my hand on the deck of cards.
Aah.
I can feel it.
The breath of the cards.
"Draw! Banana card!"
When all was said and done, the Board Game Club was truly my home.