Chapter 209: That is Life
Perhaps it was merely a coincidence.
Sizzle—snap!
The ancient street lamp at the end of the block flickered several times before
giving up entirely, plunging the road into darkness. Within that thick, heavy
gloom, Dorian walked with measured, heavy steps toward his destination:
The Soul Combat Hub (SC Center).
At the entrance to the courtyard, two suited men had been waiting for a long
time. They were part of Metsudo Katahara's elite security detail—men with combat
prowess rivaling professional Kengan fighters, each nursing the ambition to one
day climb the ranks. To that end, they intended to intercept the death row
convict before the masters inside could even stand up.
Metsudo, never one to stifle ambition, had given them his silent approval.
"..."
The two guards dropped into their stances, facing the towering 205cm giant.
Dorian looked like an ancient titan; despite being in his late sixties with a
balding head and silver beard, his frame was a mountain of solid muscle.
Dorian arched an eyebrow and let out a weary sigh. "Get lost—"
Zip!
Before he could finish, the guards launched a synchronized sneak attack. They
lunged forward from both sides, their fingers rigid in spear-hand strikes aimed
at Dorian's vitals.
Dorian's expression didn't flicker. He simply extended his hands, his thumbs and
forefingers snapping outward like iron clamps toward the guards' throats.
Tap.
It was a soft, delicate movement.
But Dorian's fingers had found the carotid arteries with surgical precision. The
blood flow to the guards' brains was severed instantly, their consciousness
turning into a void of white noise. Their bodies went limp, and Dorian caught
them by their necks, tossing them aside like discarded trash.
Thud! Thud!
The guards slammed into the outer wall, blood trickling from their heads.
"Trash like this... can never give me the taste of defeat I crave."
Dorian's demeanor remained serene as he strolled to the gate. The other guards
standing further back stared in horror, their instincts screaming at them that
this old man was a monster on par with the "Fang of Metsudo."
"..."
Dorian stepped one foot into the courtyard. His gaze swept over the gathered
legends, and a mysterious smile played on his lips. He pulled out the two
challenge letters and tossed them onto the ground.
"Doppo Orochi-dono. I have arrived."
With that, Dorian stretched his limbs, exhaling a cloud of hot breath.
"Phew!" He sighed with apparent satisfaction. "Thanks to your challenge, I've
had a week of perfect rest. It's been ages since I felt this refreshed!"
"So, who intends to be my first opponent? Retsu Kaioh? Or perhaps you,
Ren-sama?"
"..."
Before anyone could answer, Dorian held up a hand. "Wait, wait. I have a
question for you all first."
He placed a cigarette in his mouth and reached for his lighter. Then, in a
blurred motion, he reached under his hoodie and pulled out a bulging,
transparent bag filled with a shimmering liquid.
Dorian smiled. "Tell me, gentlemen... do you like gasoline?"
It was another one of his vile tricks. At this range, if Dorian ruptured the bag
and let the gas spray, he could ignite the entire courtyard and everyone in it
in a single heartbeat.
However, someone else raised their hand first—
"She says she'll go first."
Ren Shiroki pointed a thumb at the girl beside him. Dorian's eyes shifted,
following Ren's gesture to see a short-haired girl with the distinct
black-sclera eyes of the Kure Clan raising her hand.
A Kure? A girl?
Before Dorian could process the anomaly, Fusui Kure's voice rang out.
"Let me ask you a question instead, Dorian-san..."
Fusui smiled, holding up a small black remote. "Do you like remote-detonated
grenades?"
Dorian: "..." Dorian: "―?!"
BOOM!!!
The earth at Dorian's feet erupted. A thunderous roar shook the neighborhood as
flames and rolling black smoke shot into the air. Dirt and jagged shrapnel
sprayed in every direction. The gasoline bag was vaporized, some of the fuel
splashing onto Dorian's clothes and igniting instantly. He was swallowed by the
inferno and the smoke.
Crash—!
Dorian's silhouette vanished from the gate.
"Yes!"
Fusui clenched her fist, finally venting the frustration she'd been holding
since the last ambush. She turned to Ren, only to find him looking quite
displeased.
"Is it because the wall got scorched?" she asked, poking the corner of his
mouth. "Don't worry, Ren-chin. It's an easy fix. I'll help you patch it up."
Ren waved her off, his mouth twitching. "It's not the wall. I just really,
really hate grenades."
Fusui: "..." Fusui: "Fine. Next time, I'll use landmines."
Fusui's eyes shifted as she activated her [Release] state, her vision piercing
through the smoke to the street outside. She let out a small whistle of
admiration. "Fast reflexes. He stripped off his clothes in the split second of
the blast. He's barely scratched."
The others turned to look.
Gasoline had splashed across the entrance, ignited by the blast into a brilliant
"Line of Fire" that effectively bisected the world.
On one side of the fire was the Soul Combat Hub. Over a dozen people—masters,
guards, and billionaires—stood or sat in the warm, bright glow of the Hub's
lights. It looked like a lively, well-lit gathering.
On the other side of the fire—
In the deep, suffocating darkness of the night, Dorian had discarded his burning
hoodie. He stood bare-chested, his massive muscles rippling under the flickering
light of the flames. He wore only his brown trousers and leather shoes. He was
covered in soot, and his silver beard was singed, but he had taken no meaningful
damage.
"Phew...!"
Dorian exhaled, coughing out a lungful of black smoke and wiping a tear from his
eye.
"A remote grenade? Quite the escalation. But unless you've laid a full
minefield, little lady, that won't work on me."
"A pity. That isn't enough to defeat me."
He cracked his neck, his eyes peering over the line of fire into the Hub. He
began to laugh, his voice growing louder and more frantic. "And what's even more
tragic is that none of you are capable of giving me the defeat I seek!"
"If you don't believe me, come! Try it!"
"..."
Dorian's declaration was met with... absolute silence. No one argued. In fact,
it seemed like no one was even listening to him.
Fusui Kure was rubbing her chin, calculating the trajectory required to snipe
Dorian and realizing the difficulty was extreme.
The others were all occupied with their own thoughts.
Ren Shiroki sat cross-legged in silent meditation. Katsumi Orochi was brooding.
Retsu Kaioh was reflecting on his techniques. Gaolang was tuning his breathing.
Doppo Orochi was smirking to himself, and Lihito was staring blankly at the sky.
"..."
Dorian paused, the silence unnerving him. He shouted again: "I said I won! Come
and try me if you have the guts!"
No response.
Dorian stood on the dark side of the fire line, repeating himself over and over.
"Come on! Attack me! You can't beat me! I'm the winner!"
"I win! I'm the one who wins!!"
That night, Metsudo Katahara, Sayaka, and their guards witnessed a truly surreal
scene.
The line of fire seemed to separate two different dimensions. In the soft, warm
light of the Hub, a group of "Losers" who had all tasted Dorian's tricks sat
peacefully, chatting occasionally.
And on the other side—in the cold, bottomless dark—Dorian stood alone,
desperately screaming about his "victory" to a world that had already moved on.
Finally, Dorian let out a long, hollow sigh. He stopped shouting. He sat down on
the pavement, staring silently into the light and color of the Hub.
He began to hum a song—an old melody by the singer Yukari Kaneko. The lyrics
were obscure, a lamentation of bitter days and a cherishing of tiny, fragile
hopes. One line stood out above the rest:
"O! toi la vie"
Roughly translated: "That is life."
Dorian hummed the tune, a lone figure in the night, letting the song drift
through the air as he waited for the true duel to begin.
What is defeat? What is strength?
(End of Chapter)
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