Chapter 50: This Punch Packs the Power of a Top 100 Pro
Natsuya wasn't surprised that his opening feint was easily parried. After all, he was facing one of the Nine Hashira.
But this spar wasn't about winning. It was about showcasing his current level and field-testing his theories on Breathing Style integration and combat flow.
Time to go all out.
His fluid combo paused for a fraction of a second. Natsuya shifted his footwork, raising his forearms into a high guard while his feet began a series of light, rapid, rhythmic bounces.
Igarashi blinked. He'd seen a similar stance during his time studying in the West.
"That posture... is that...?"
Modern Boxing.
The corners of Natsuya's mouth curled upward. In the moment of Igarashi's surprise, Natsuya moved.
Right Slip.
His body rotated around his core as an axis, then immediately snapped into a Left Slip. Even without triggering a Breathing Style, the sheer frequency of his lateral movement and weight shifting created a blur of afterimages within a two-meter radius.
It was an '∞' shaped pendulum motion.
[The Dempsey Roll!]
This was a footwork pattern Natsuya had mastered in a legendary boxing simulator.
Igarashi could roughly predict the general direction, but the high-frequency oscillation made it impossible to pin down the exact frame for a perfect counter-attack.
If I don't use a Breathing Style... the Hashira thought. He tested the waters with a horizontal slash using the back of his blade.
Natsuya ducked and slid under the arc. As the blade passed overhead, the Wind-Breaker on his right hand exploded forward. He wove his arm inside Igarashi's guard, following the Hashira's own limb toward the neck.
[Cross Counter!]
It was lightning-fast. Because his arm was entangled with Igarashi's, the Hashira couldn't immediately pull back for a standard block.
Seeing the punch about to connect, the Storm Hashira forcibly cancelled his own recovery animation, took a sharp step back, and tilted his head.
The punch grazed his collarbone, hitting only empty air.
Igarashi was stunned. Natsuya was even more so.
I landed a perfect defensive counter with a combo, and he still dodged at the last possible frame?
And he hasn't even used a Breathing Style yet!
My 'Cheap Senior' is strong enough to make me actually hype. This is a blast!
Is 'Sen-no-Sen' prediction really this broken?
Then try this!
Natsuya didn't pursue the clinch. He took a step back, maintaining a half-length distance from the retreating Igarashi.
Next second.
[Thunder Breathing!]
Massive amounts of oxygen flooded his system, boosting his physical stats by a whole tier. Natsuya didn't use a named Thunder Form. He used the most basic, fundamental tool in a striker's arsenal.
The Jab.
Simple. Honest. But with an incredibly high skill ceiling because of its speed. He traded raw body-weight power for pure, unadulterated velocity.
Like a 'Thrust' in Kendo.
[Lightning Jab: Fivefold!]
Clang-clang-clang-clang! CLANG!
Five sparks erupted almost simultaneously. The Storm Hashira, moving with even greater speed, successfully parried every single strike.
Speed didn't matter if the destination was predicted. Even with the precision and lethality of modern combat sports, Natsuya was being read.
Igarashi tilted his body, the back of his katana precisely catching the impact point of Wind-Breaker and guiding the force away. Natsuya felt his final jab hit nothing but air, his center of gravity dragging him forward.
He broke my fifth strike before it even finished!
Igarashi's other hand, still holding the scabbard, moved like flowing water toward Natsuya's exposed ribs.
[Wind Breathing!]
Natsuya's reflexes were top-tier. He forcefully twisted his torso, using the fluidity of Wind Breathing to dodge by a hair's breadth while whipping his left arm around like a lash.
It wasn't a slash. It was a hammer-fist.
He utilized the "Whirl-Force" from an ancient martial art—violent, heavy, and crushing.
BOOM!
The gauntlet slammed into the scabbard. The impact sounded like a war drum.
"Intriguing," the Hashira said, his voice steady. "Abandoning sword forms entirely to drive the power of Breathing through raw 'Striking'?"
He gave his wrist a subtle flick. A supple but irresistible force traveled up the scabbard into Natsuya's fist, sending the boy staggering back several steps.
He didn't fall? His lower body is more stable than I thought.
I can turn up the pressure a bit more.
The next second, Igarashi's Nichirin Sword accelerated. It became like a pervasive breeze, eroding Natsuya's defense from every angle.
Natsuya gritted his teeth, using every ounce of his skill to parry. But every time their weapons met, Igarashi's technique would dampen Natsuya's kinetic energy, making his blocks progressively more desperate.
Igarashi's swordplay was surgical. Every poke, flick, and press landed exactly at the moment Natsuya was most vulnerable—either the peak of his exertion or the "recovery frames" between movements.
Natsuya felt like he wasn't fighting a person, but a sentient, omnipresent web of steel and foresight.
Damn it! Sen-no-Sen is so annoying!
Natsuya shifted gears again. A lunging straight punch followed by a low leg-sweep. But the Hashira had seen it coming. The katana blocked the punch half a beat early, and a tiny step back made the sweep whiff.
Igarashi even had the spare capacity to flick a counter-slash toward Natsuya's neck, exposed by the sweep.
Sweat began to bead on Natsuya's forehead. The tide had turned. The active Hashira was now completely suppressing him. Amidst the non-stop sparks and the ring of metal, Natsuya's stamina bar was draining fast.
I can't stay on the defensive!
Time for that move...
Natsuya suddenly disengaged and assumed a stance that looked nothing like boxing.
[Water Breathing!]
Faint ripples appeared to spread from Natsuya's feet. He had hyper-focused his mind and spirit, creating a 360-degree defensive perimeter with himself as the center.
This was the result of his weeks spent trying to analyze Sen-no-Sen. It was a wall of prediction built from thousands of hours of gaming experience.
A Prototype Domain.
The Hashira's sharp strike crossed the boundary of this zone.
Natsuya's Wind-Breaker moved. Blade grated against blade, throwing off a shower of sparks. But Igarashi felt zero resistance. His Nichirin Sword seemed to pierce right through...
No. It had grazed Natsuya's uniform and, due to a high-speed rotation from the boy, it had whacked into empty space.
[Zenith Style: Flowing Water Defense Circle]
"This...?" Igarashi's eyes showed a flash of shock. "Absolute Force Redirection?"
Before the shock could settle, Natsuya had already reset his posture. His right fist was pulled back to his hip. Strength was being compressed, condensed into a single point in his lower dantian.
Then, he funneled it back out into his limbs.
[Stone Breathing!]
This was an unfinished technique inspired by a "Maximum Output" theory—engaging every muscle fiber in the body to focus on a single point of impact.
One step.
He entered the Hashira's "Pocket."
One step.
Body like a bow, legs like pillars.
The stone ground beneath Natsuya's feet shattered.
It wasn't a technical jab or a redirect. It was the most primitive, most violent straight punch imaginable. Where his fist passed, the air compressed into visible, distorted ripples, emitting a low-frequency roar.
Force upon force. Impact upon impact. He lunged with his entire body, his kinetic energy surging beyond his limits.
A One-Inch Punch!
Faced with a strike that defied the logic of his rank, the Storm Hashira finally lost his composure. His relaxed expression vanished, replaced by grim focus. He abandoned the single-handed grip and slammed both hands onto his hilt.
Sword raised. Total Defense.
He braced for the impact of Natsuya's massive fist-blade.
I can block this...
[Total Concentration!]
Natsuya closed the final inch. Within that tiny gap, his force began to stack, vibrate, and undergo a qualitative change! He followed his instinct, pushing the compressed power that threatened to burst his arm one step further.
One-inch punch!
One-inch punch!
ONE-INCH PUNCH!
"BREAK!!!"
The punch Natsuya threw carried more than his full strength. It carried the mastery of a man who had once been ranked in the Top 100 in the World Championships. He had successfully reconstructed his ultimate technique in this world.
The peak of power. The summit of skill.
[One-Inch Punch: HEAVEN SPLITTER!]
BOOM!!!
It wasn't the sound of clashing steel. It was the sound of a thunderclap detonating at point-blank range.
This was Total Concentration far beyond a normal Slayer's capacity. A nearly doubled, unreasonable, concentrated explosion of kinetic impact!
Igarashi felt like he had been hit head-on by a siege ram!
What the hell is this?!
Even his Sen-no-Sen hadn't accounted for a follow-up explosion of that magnitude. Caught off guard, he stopped holding back.
[Storm Breathing, Sixth Form: Mountain Breeze of Aoyama!]
His Nichirin Sword spun, trailing a clear mountain gale, creating a complex series of redirections to try and bleed off the terrifying force.
But... it was too late. He couldn't fully nullify it.
The next second, even while maintaining a perfect parry, the Hashira was turned into a fixed point of resistance against an uncalculable violence. Remaining in his elegant posture, he was blasted backward, his feet carving furrows in the ground.
Finally, he was lifted off his feet!
The Hashira performed a series of graceful mid-air flips, bleeding off the remaining momentum. He landed steadily five meters away.
But the stone ground where he landed was instantly covered in a web of deep cracks.
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