"Ding, ding, ding! Ding, ding, ding!"
His phone suddenly rang. Allen picked up his phone, and on the screen was a location message Baki Hanma had just sent.
Baki Hanma: Tonight at 8 PM, Aikido dojo. There's something I need to tell you.
Allen checked the time; it was already 3:30 PM. He hadn't expected evolving the Hanma Blood to take over two hours!
He hadn't felt time pass so quickly while evolving. It seemed that next time he evolved a talent like Hanma Blood, he would need to prepare in advance.
Allen looked at the foul-smelling black mud oozing from all over his body and decided to take a shower first… Meanwhile, in a derelict factory in Tokyo.
Sikorsky, one of the five death row inmates, stood before a wall covered with information and photos of Allen and the other three.
"It seems the opponents this time are quite good," he said, his rough finger tracing Allen's photo.
"It would be even better if I could fight him." As he thought this, Sikorsky's Adam's apple bobbed, and he couldn't help but lick his lips… Night fell, and Allen arrived at Gouki Shibukawa's Aikido dojo, following the location.
Outside the dojo, several black-suited bodyguards from the Tokugawa family stood, a strict cordon isolating the entire area from the outside world.
Pushing open the ancient wooden door, the sight inside made him slightly pause. Besides the expected Gouki Shibukawa, Baki, and Mitsunari Tokugawa, Kaiou Retsu and Doppo Orochi were also present.
The five sat around a tatami mat, exquisite tea sets placed before them, and a heavy atmosphere permeated the air.
"You're here?" Mitsunari Tokugawa's voice was a little hoarse. He was sitting cross-legged in the main seat, with a tea set placed before each position.
Allen keenly noticed that all five had very solemn expressions. He silently sat down, waiting for what was to come.
Once Allen was seated, Mitsunari Tokugawa slowly raised his wrinkled face, and a pained light flickered in his cloudy eyes.
"I'll get straight to the point."
"Apart from Allen-kun, everyone else lost without doing anything."
"And it was two against one."
"Two martial arts experts were utterly defeated by Dorian, a death row inmate who had just escaped from the hospital."
Mitsunari Tokugawa sighed deeply, the teacup in his trembling hand shaking slightly.
"Ah, this is understandable. You are merely ordinary fighters protected by competition rules."
"To put it bluntly, you are also amateurs in fighting, which is why this happened."
"But in unarmed combat, there is Baki, a warrior from the Underground Arena, who can confidently claim to be the world's number one, and he is one of the strongest candidates."
"To think, he was forcibly put on the same level as an ordinary young master martial artist."
"Hehehehe." At this point, Mitsunari Tokugawa couldn't help but let out two bitter laughs, which sounded particularly grating in the silent dojo.
"This is the drawback of the competition system!"
"No matter how big the competition, if you really want to trace the origins of martial arts…" Mitsunari Tokugawa's expression was serious, his voice high-pitched.
"Then it will never be on a spotlight-bathed arena!"
"Suppressing the illegal violence that can happen at any time in daily life is the right path!"
"No matter how much praise and acclaim a fighter receives, if they can't perform in a real fight, they are worthless!"
As he said this, Mitsunari Tokugawa couldn't help but shed tears. This kingpin who controlled the underground world of Neon was now crying unashamedly, his body hunched, letting tears soak his kimono.
"I am the most heartbroken!"
"More than you… more than all of you here, I am heartbroken!"
"If there's anyone who believes more than anyone else that the fighters from the Underground Arena are the strongest, it's this old man!"
Mitsunari Tokugawa's hoarse shouts echoed in the dojo. Except for Allen, everyone else silently lowered their heads, their faces showing some self-reproach.
"Bang, bang, bang."
Allen clearly heard several muffled thuds from outside, but seeing that the others were unresponsive, he said nothing.
"Baki, Doppo, Shibukawa, Retsu, it's this old man who believes in you more than anyone else!"
"Do you even know how heavy my regret is?!"
"Click."
Just then, the wooden door was pushed open, and Dorian stood at the entrance, carrying a bucket of unknown liquid.
"Good evening, perverts," Dorian said, slowly walking into the dojo, the unknown liquid sloshing in the iron bucket with his steps.
Except for Allen, who was calmly sipping tea, everyone else stood up and stared intently at Dorian, as if facing a formidable enemy.
"Everyone's gathered," Dorian said, a smirk on his face, looking at the people in the room without any fear.
"The guards?" Mitsunari Tokugawa looked at Dorian with some surprise. Clearly, none of them had heard any sounds outside.
"Are you talking about those good-for-nothings?" Dorian stepped aside, pointing to the bodyguards lying haphazardly on the ground, bloody and mangled.
"Do you like gasoline?" Dorian sneered, pulling a metal lighter from his pocket.
"Snap."
Just then, Dorian felt a hand on his shoulder. His body stiffened, and he slowly turned his head, meeting Allen's unfathomably deep eyes.
Dorian's instinct told him to leave immediately, or he would be in mortal danger. This young man, after a few days, had become several times more dangerous. What a monster!
Allen casually took the lighter from Dorian's hand and kicked over the iron bucket.
Gasoline instantly spilled all over Dorian, and a pungent smell filled the entire dojo.
"Mr. Dorian, do you like gasoline?" Allen toyed with the lighter in his hand.
Dorian's pupils suddenly contracted, his body trembling uncontrollably, and large beads of sweat rolled down his temples. He had never felt the breath of death so closely.
The source of the death aura was not the lighter in the young man's hand, but the young man himself. The oppressive feeling emanating from him was like a demon crawled out of hell.
"I…" Dorian's voice caught in his throat. He subconsciously took half a step back.
"It seems you like playing with fire." Before he finished speaking, Allen's figure suddenly disappeared.
Dorian only felt a gust of wind hit him, followed by a tearing pain in his abdomen. Allen's fist had deeply embedded itself in his stomach.
"Bang! Boom!"
Dorian's body flew backward like a rag doll, crashing heavily into the wooden wall. The entire wall split open, and wood splinters scattered.
"Cough, cough, cough…" Dorian curled up on the ground, coughing up large mouthfuls of blood. He looked up at Allen in disbelief.
That punch from the young man was several times stronger than the one he delivered a few days ago at the Shinshinkai!
The air in the dojo seemed to solidify. Mitsunari Tokugawa looked at Allen with shining eyes, and Kaiou Retsu and Doppo Orochi exchanged glances, their eyes filled with shock.
Baki watched this scene, clenching his fists, his knuckles cracking, his eyes burning with fighting spirit.
Allen, who was on par with him just a few days ago, had now become so strong. He needed to work even harder; he couldn't fall too far behind Allen.
Gouki Shibukawa looked at Allen before him, somewhat stunned, cold sweat beading on his forehead. He had a very special ability: he could accurately perceive the strength of an opponent.
And Gouki Shibukawa had just curiously sensed Allen, but all he saw from Allen was an unfathomably deep darkness…