CHAPTER 97: THE SONIC PUNCH!
"Look—look at their right legs!"
A Teiai agent was the first to cry out, his voice cracking with shock.
Every eye in the Grand Ballroom locked onto the exposed shins of the two fighters. Across their lower calves was a jagged, circular ring of scar tissue. The skin there was pale and tight, contrasting sharply against the tanned muscle of their ankles and knees. It looked as if their legs had been placed in a high-pressure clamp and detonated from the inside out.
Though the wounds had been closed with surgical precision, the sight was enough to make a layman's stomach churn. It was a mark of extreme, prehistoric violence.
Had they been hit by the same monster?
Ren Shiroki and Katsumi Orochi—two titans who had fought to a standstill tonight—had both looked into the abyss of the same nightmare.
"Kaoru Hanayama!"
Atsushi Suedo growled, his teeth bared in a snarl of remembrance.
"In the second round of the Maximum Tournament at the Tokyo Dome... General Katsumi faced the Boss. He endured the Vice Grip! He allowed his flesh to be shredded just to find an opening!"
Fusui Kure's eye twitched. She hadn't witnessed Ren's fight with Hanayama personally, but she had seen the aftermath. It had been a struggle that defied human limits. Hanayama had been choked until he couldn't breathe, yet he stood as a pillar, swinging until both he and Ren collapsed from pure exhaustion.
In the underworld, some called it a draw. But to Ren, a "Drunken Draw" wasn't a victory. It was an unresolved chord.
"What was the result?" Fusui asked, looking at Suedo. "When Katsumi faced the Boss... who walked away?"
"The General won!" Suedo shouted, his chest swelling. "He was the one who finally put that legendary beast on his back!"
Kaede Akiyama blinked, her corporate composure shattered. "Wait... so Katsumi Orochi won the entire tournament that night?"
"...No."
Suedo shook his head, his expression turning somber. "The General fell in the next round. He was dismantled by the Fist Master, Retsu Kaioh. The man who took the crown that night was a seventeen-year-old boy... Baki Hanma."
"..."
The silence that followed was heavy. Kaede couldn't fathom a world where monsters like Katsumi and Suedo were merely the "mid-card" for a teenager.
Katsumi Orochi retracted his leg, standing still as he focused on his final breath.
"Ren-kun... I know you won't back down."
"Let's settle this with the move that ended the Legend!"
Ren Shiroki remained silent. He was deep in the [ENGINE], his breathing a rhythmic, metallic hiss. Sweat and blood merged on his forehead, painting his vision in a hazy, vibrating red.
Katsumi's face was serene. "I've realized something tonight. Facing you... I cannot guarantee a victory. All I can do is offer up everything I am."
"Your 'Might' comes from an intense consciousness. You've manual-overridden your own biology to achieve a perfect union of mind and action."
"You are a terrifying warrior."
"But my path is different. I don't pilot my body; I surrender to the Art. I pour my soul into Karate until the technique becomes more real than the man."
SHING.
Katsumi stepped forward with his left foot. He stood side-on, his left arm extended like a probe, his right fist chambered deep at his waist, palm upward.
"The move I dedicated to Kaoru Hanayama... it is the summation of my life. It is the 'Miracle' of modern sports science."
"..."
SNAP!
A sharp, whip-like crack echoed across the deck.
The spectators blinked. No one had seen Katsumi move. He was still standing in the same stance.
"Did... did he hit something?" Kaiji whispered.
"The 'Sound' is the clue," Katsumi said, his voice calm.
"When a master cracks a whip, the tip generates a violent boom. That is the sound of an object breaking the Sound Barrier. It is a miniature sonic boom."
Katsumi slowly retracted his right arm. He moved with agonizing deliberation, showing Ren the mechanics of the joint-linkage.
"From the ground up... I accelerate every joint in a kinetic chain. From the big toe to the ankle. From the ankle to the knee. From the knee to the hip. From the hip to the waist. From the waist to the shoulder. From the shoulder to the elbow. From the elbow to the wrist. And finally... the fist."
"If you can successfully accelerate all eight joints simultaneously... you create a miracle."
SNAP!
Katsumi threw the punch again. Once more, the movement was a blur that defied the human eye.
SNAP! SNAP! SNAP!
The "Sonic Booms" echoed through the night, vibrating the very steel of the Espoir's deck.
"That's it..."
Fusui Kure's pupils were shaking. She could barely track the terminal velocity.
Katsumi Orochi was using a level of biological coordination that was impossible for a normal human. He was turning his entire 115kg frame into a high-speed projectile.
This was the ultimate crystallization of the Shinshinkai: THE MACH PUNCH!
"How...?"
Fusui turned to Suedo. "How did Retsu Kaioh beat that?!"
"Retsu... he used his 'Breath' to disrupt the General's vision before the strike could launch. He used tactical interference. He didn't dare take it head-on."
"In other words," Fusui whispered, looking at Ren. "Even a god of Kung Fu refused to block that punch."
Ren Shiroki settled into his stance. He was back in Guile's [SOLID PUNCHER] form, his [ENGINE] redlining.
He saw the Mach Punch. He heard the sonic booms.
But Ren didn't look for a "Breath" interference. He didn't look for a tactical exit. He was a Seeker. He wanted to feel the "Might" of the sound barrier for himself.
"Ren-kun... HERE IT COMES!"
Katsumi lunged. His eight joints fired in perfect, terrifying sequence. He launched the Mach Punch directly at Ren's guard.
SNAP!
BOOM!!!
The sound of the sonic boom merged with the dull, heavy THUD of a fist hitting meat.
The shockwave erupted. Ren Shiroki was launched off his feet as if he'd been struck by a high-velocity tank shell. He flew ten meters across the deck, crashing into a stack of shipping crates.
CRASH-SHATTER!
The heavy timber splintered as Ren was buried in the wreckage.
Only one punch.
A 97kg man had been treated like a pebble.
"Ren-nii!" Marco cried out.
Ren lay in the ruins of the crates, coughing up a thick slurry of blood. His eyes were streaming with tears—the sheer sensory overload of the impact had bypassed his pain suppressors. The jagged lacerations on his arms and chest were weeping fresh crimson.
The agony was absolute. It vibrated through his bones, causing his pupils to stabilize.
The [ENGINE] sputtered and died. Ren was back to being mortal.
Am I... failing?
Is this the end?
SHING!
Ren threw a piece of broken timber aside. He braced his hand against the deck and forced his shaking legs to stand.
His eyes were bloodshot, his vision swimming. But he found his footing.
It was the final stand. The last of his stamina condensed into a single frame of existence. He looked at Katsumi and bared his bloody teeth.
"Round... three... isn't... over..."