Chapter 245: The Tiny Pebble
"A-Ah—! W-wait—!"
Looking at the pure, unadulterated fury on Ohma Tokita's face, Kazuo Yamashita
broke into a frantic cold sweat. He looked left and right, eventually turning a
desperate gaze toward Ren Shiroki.
"Ren-san! Please, talk some sense into Ohma-san! We're all on the same side
here—!"
To Kazuo's horror, Ren simply offered a comforting pat on the shoulder. "Relax,
Yamashita-san. Don't you think the atmosphere is perfect right now?"
Kazuo: "..." Kazuo: "Haha..."
The fifty-six-year-old "former" ordinary salaryman suddenly had a realization:
Ren Shiroki was just as "un-ordinary" as the rest of these monsters.
"You say I've got zero chance against Gaia?"
Ohma Tokita's lips curled into a bloodthirsty smirk. He locked his eyes onto the
Knife Expert. "Fine then. Call him out. Let's see what this 'God' is made of. Or
is he too chicken to show his face?!"
Seeing Ohma's aggressive stance, the Knife Expert let out a weary sigh, dropping
into a slight crouch to prepare for the inevitable. Beside him, the hulking
giant known as Kuraishi stepped forward to play peacemaker, his voice deep and
booming.
"Ohma Tokita... is it?"
Kuraishi rolled the name around his tongue, looking down at Ohma. "You've got a
magnificent build. You're clearly a top-tier martial artist. The fact that
you've fought your way through this building proves your strength."
"But 'Combat' and 'Martial Arts' are two different worlds."
Kuraishi let out a light sigh, his gaze drifting toward Ren Shiroki. "Even for
Shiroki-san, whom Motobe-sensei spoke so highly of... I wouldn't want him
fighting Captain Gaia. My reason for refusing him is because I'm afraid the
Captain wouldn't be able to pull his punches."
"But my reason for refusing you—"
Kuraishi looked back at Ohma, stepping into his personal space. "You simply
can't win. Your mental state is a total wreck."
"Hah?" Ohma's brow furrowed, his expression becoming even more demonic. "The
hell is that supposed to mean?"
"People who have lived on the battlefield can see it easily. You look terrible,"
Kuraishi said, his eyes boring into Ohma's. "Is it drugs? Overtraining? Or have
you just been fighting too long without sleep?"
"I don't know what you've been through, boy, but your body is clearly reaching
its limit. You're radiating the aura of a desperate man looking for one last
gamble. You're like a green recruit who's been broken by the sounds of artillery
and fallen into a mindless frenzy."
"A recruit like that looks dangerous and loud, but they're on the verge of a
total collapse. They can't access their true potential. Just like you."
Kuraishi patted Ohma on the shoulder with a comforting, patronizing hand. "Take
a nap, kid. You aren't fit to fight."
Kuraishi turned his back, and the Knife Expert stepped up to add the finishing
blow. "Just leave it to the professionals, Seaweed-kun."
Ohma stood frozen, his eyes wide as he processed the insult. Several seconds of
silence followed before his lips pulled back in a jagged snarl.
"You talk a big game, you oversized target... telling me to take a nap—"
He tightened his fists with enough force to make his knuckles white. He dropped
into his bladed stance, a raspy growl vibrating in his chest. "Let's settle this
right here! I'll prove I'm a hell of a lot stronger than any of you!"
The words had barely left his mouth when—ZIP!
Kuraishi, who had been walking away, suddenly pivoted on a dime. His combat boot
exploded forward in a lightning-fast snap-kick, catching Ohma square on his
crossed forearms.
THUD!
The muffled sound of the impact was followed by Ohma's own arms being slammed
into his face. The force was staggering. Ohma was launched backward, his feet
leaving the floor as he hurtled through the air.
BOOM!
His back slammed into the hallway wall with enough force to crack the masonry, a
cloud of dust raining down on him.
The recoil bounced Ohma forward. He collapsed onto his hands and knees, his
entire frame trembling from the shock. He coughed, spitting a few drops of blood
onto the carpet.
"Staying down and resting is much luckier than fighting Captain Gaia," Kuraishi
said, waving a hand dismissively as he walked away. "At least this way, you
won't die."
The Knife Expert let out a low whistle, grinning at his teammate. "Hey,
Kuraishi. Getting rough with our allies? How are you going to explain that to
Motobe-sensei?"
"Getting rough?" Kuraishi didn't even turn his head. "I was just flicking away a
tiny pebble. It's better than you cutting him, right?"
"Heh. Good point."
The Knife Expert shrugged and walked over to Ren and Kazuo. "Kuraishi is a
softie, Shiroki-san. If it had been me, Seaweed-kun would be leaking blood by
now. Honestly, you should get him to a hospital. A soldier's intuition for
'Condition' is never wrong. That boy is physically falling apart."
"What was his name again?"
"..."
Ren Shiroki opened his mouth. "Tokita—"
But before he could finish, Ohma—still on his hands and knees—began to rise.
Kazuo Yamashita watched in terror as the youth stood up.
"—OHMA TOKITA!!"
Ohma rose slowly, his arms hanging limp at his sides. Suddenly, every vein in
his body began to throb and bulge, tracing the outlines of his dense muscles.
His skin began to turn a deep, sickly shade of purple-red.
He opened his eyes wide, his pupils lost in a sea of bloodshot sclera.
[NIKO STYLE: THE ADVANCE]!
Ohma was forcibly increasing his heart rate, driving his blood circulation into
an explosive state. He was converting the sheer thermal energy of his biology
into raw physical output, skyrocketing his speed and power.
But as Yanagi Ryuko had noted, the [Advance] was a suicide technique. The
vascular pressure would lead to brain hemorrhaging, memory loss, and
hallucinations. It was a fast-track to self-destruction.
"Shut up, Niko!" Ohma growled at the air, spitting a blood clot.
"Hah... Phew..."
He exhaled a cloud of heat. His crimson eyes swept across the room, locking onto
Kuraishi and the Knife Expert. The two special-forces soldiers felt their pupils
contract.
Kazuo Yamashita was paralyzed. He had seen this state many times in the Kengan
matches, but it never got less terrifying. "No... Ohma-san, don't! You always
vomit blood after using that! Your body can't take much more—!"
"It's fine, Yamashita-san."
Ohma twisted his neck, his voice dropping into a low, predatory rasp. "I have a
feeling... this is the only way I can get better!"
The soldiers froze. As professionals, they lived by their instincts, and their
instincts told them that Ohma's words weren't a delusion. He was truly evolving
through the trauma.
"Improving through a suicide-strike?" Kuraishi sighed. "Forget it, Ohma. Go back
to your hospital bed."
"I SAID SHUT UP!"
Ohma's gaze centered. He lunged forward with a speed that left afterimages, his
right fist firing at Kuraishi's head.
Zip!
Kuraishi raised his forearms to block, but the weight of the blow sent him
skidding back several meters. He felt a piercing, bone-deep ache in his arms.
"—Wait, what?!"
The Knife Expert gasped. He reached for his blade, but Ohma was already there. A
low-level sweep caught the soldier on the shin. The expert bared his teeth in
pain, his mobility momentarily compromised.
Ohma turned his head toward the other three soldiers. "You lot want a piece
too?"
The Twins didn't hesitate. One drew a tactical baton while the other pulled a
high-tensile wire from his belt.
Even the Babyface soldier took a deep breath and drew his combat dagger, though
his hands were shaking from the pressure Ohma was radiating.
"Thanks for playing. This feels... great!"
Ohma murmured the words as a drop of blood fell from his lip. He blurred
forward.
ZIP!
He closed the gap with the Twins in a heartbeat. He dropped into a deep crouch
to evade their pincer strike, then exploded upward to shatter their formation.
The Babyface soldier tried to move in for a sneak-stab, but Ohma sensed him. The
youth retreated frantically, but Ohma was faster.
On the way, Ohma passed the grounded Sikorsky. Seeing the Russian convict trying
to crawl away, Ohma casually delivered a brutal body-blow to the convict's
liver.
THUD!
"GUUGH—!"
Sikorsky collapsed again, retching bile. He wasn't getting up anytime soon.
In the same motion, Ohma caught up to the Babyface soldier. He kicked the dagger
out of the youth's hand and sent him sprawling with a heavy shoulder-check.
"Aha... Hah..."
Ohma panted, his breath sounding like a wounded beast.
Before him, Sikorsky was out of the game. But the five soldiers—Kuraishi, the
Knife Expert, the Twins, and the Babyface—had all reset and were looking at him
with new eyes.
"Heh. Finally willing to look me in the eye?"
Ohma's demonic grin returned. "Now... do you still think I'm not qualified to
fight this 'Gaia' person?!"
"..."
The five soldiers hesitated. They could feel it now—the power Ohma was wielding
was surpassing the human limit.
But the problem was... they could feel something even greater from Gaia. Gaia
wasn't just a soldier; he was the God of War.
The stalemate was broken by the most unexpected sound.
The "Babyface" soldier—the one Ohma had just bullied—suddenly began to sob.
"Eee... hee..."
His features scrunched up. He began to let out a series of high-pitched,
rhythmic wails. "Eee! HEE!! EEEEE—!!!"
The sound grew louder and more piercing with every second.
The other four soldiers instantly went pale. Their eyes widened with genuine
terror.
"Nomura! Stop! Shut it down!" Kuraishi shouted, but it was useless.
He could only watch as Nomura's crying grew more frantic, the sound vibrating
through the hallway.
"Heh... I thought the targets here wouldn't be enough to draw him out." The
Knife Expert retreated several paces, positioning himself near Ren Shiroki for a
sense of safety. Cold sweat was pouring down his face. "Is it for Ohma? Or for
you, Ren-kun? Either way... we're in trouble."
He swallowed hard, his voice trembling.
"Gaia is coming out..."
"He's returning to the squad!"
(End of Chapter)
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