Chapter 249: Terrible Compatibility!
Zip!
A small, rice-sized "capsule" whistled from Gaia's mouth, flying toward Ren
Shiroki like a bullet.
Ren snapped his left arm up to block.
Splat!
The shell, which Gaia had crushed with his teeth just before firing, shattered
on impact. The liquid inside sprayed across Ren's forearm.
Sizzle—
Ren immediately felt a searing, caustic heat. Faint wisps of white smoke began
to rise from his skin.
"Ngh—?!"
He reacted instantly, tearing the fabric of his sleeve away and wiping the
liquid off with a piece of dry cloth. Despite his speed, the chemical had
already left a reddened, angry burn. Another scar for his collection.
"Sulfuric acid?"
Ren tossed the scrap of cloth aside, shaking out his hand as he looked at Gaia.
Gaia chuckled, looking unapologetic. "Sulfuric acid capsules. You keep them in
your cheek and fire them with a tongue-flick. It's a little trick Motobe-sensei
taught me. Just a bit of 'street' flair."
Ren arched an eyebrow, a cold sweat prickling his neck. "If I hadn't blocked
that... if it hit my eyes... that would have been a nightmare. Your Master is a
real old fox."
"Talking about Motobe-sensei? You've got that right!"
Gaia bared his teeth in a grin. "Funnily enough, when Baki took that hit years
ago, he called me a 'Skunk Bastard'!"
For a fleeting second, both Ren and Gaia thought they heard the sound of someone
sneezing on the roof of the building. They shared a look, their respective
killing intents surging even higher.
The display left the spectators—especially Sikorsky—staring with wide eyes. The
Russian convict felt a fresh wave of pressure. He knew that if he had been the
target, he wouldn't have anticipated a projectile coming from a man's mouth. He
would have been blinded instantly.
Gulp—
Sikorsky swallowed hard, a bead of sweat rolling down his blood-stained face.
"How... cowardly..."
Gaia caught the remark and turned his head, offering a breezy, easygoing smile.
"My, my. Hearing that from a death row convict? That's rich."
Gaia spread his arms. "I heard you lot pride yourselves on using any means
necessary to win. If that's the case, you should be prepared for your opponent
to use the same logic. For example..."
Gaia suddenly reached into the side of his combat boot and pulled out a tactical
dagger. The blade caught the moonlight, gleaming with a cold, silver light.
"Or this—"
Whoosh!
Gaia moved like a blur. He didn't lunge; he danced. He performed a high-speed
knife routine around Ren, the blade whistling inches from the youth's throat and
chest. With surgical precision, he sliced away a few stray hairs from Ren's head
without nicking the skin.
Suddenly, Gaia spun and hurled the dagger.
Zip!
The knife became a flying blur, heading straight for Sikorsky. It thudded into
the concrete wall an inch from the Russian's ear, the handle vibrating with the
force of the throw.
Sikorsky flinched, his rage finally overcoming his exhaustion. He snarled,
coiling his muscles to charge.
But the next heartbeat—BANG!
A single gunshot echoed through the hall, freezing everyone in place.
Sikorsky stopped dead. He looked up to see Gaia holding a compact handgun, a
thin trail of smoke drifting from the barrel.
Gaia had fired a round out of the shattered window into the night. He sniffed
the air, savoring the scent of the cordite.
"And then there are handguns. Standard equipment," Gaia said casually.
Sikorsky was drenched in cold sweat now. His instincts told him that this "Gaia"
person wasn't an amateur who relied on the weapon to be strong. There is a
fundamental difference between having a weapon and knowing a weapon.
Gaia was an expert. He moved with the gun as if it were an extension of his own
hand.
"You—?!"
Sikorsky stammered, his eyes darting between Ren and Gaia. Eventually, he threw
his hands up and sat back down, choosing to remain a spectator.
Seeing the convict settle, Gaia lost interest in him. He turned back to Ren
Shiroki, his eyes narrowing into happy crescents. "Hahaha! As I thought, you
didn't even flinch. Petty tricks like that won't work on a man like you."
"—And besides, I don't intend to use them."
Without hesitation, Gaia tossed the handgun over his shoulder. It was caught
mid-air by Kuraishi.
"This isn't a warzone. This is a duel."
"People have called me the Master of 'Environmental Utilization Tactics' for a
long time."
Gaia opened his hands, palms up. "Using a pre-prepared weapon is an insult to
the art. That isn't 'Environmental Utilization'."
"This—" Gaia gestured to the ruins of the 17th-floor lounge. "The space we are
standing in right now. Using only what is available in this specific moment...
that is the core of my style."
Ren settled into his bladed stance, lead arm low, right hand guarding his jaw.
He began his rhythmic bounce.
Gaia watched Ren's movement and added: "And the 'Environment' includes
everything within it. My body, your body... our consciousness... and even our
souls."
The philosophical talk made Sikorsky scowl. "There he goes again with the
psychological warfare."
"...No. He's not," a raspy voice interrupted.
It was Ohma Tokita. Still supported by the Knife Expert, the young Ashura had
forced his eyes open to witness the clash. He stared at the standing Gaia, his
voice a low murmur.
"Gaia isn't bluffing. Fighting him is... a nightmare. It feels like your body
and your techniques are transparent to him."
"No matter how hard you hit, you feel like you're missing. It's as if your fists
are just passing through him like he's made of smoke."
"I managed to touch him once... I think I have a lead on the logic... but I
still can't find that 'feel' again."
As Ohma spoke, Kazuo Yamashita felt a strange sense of relief. He tightened his
grip on Ohma's shoulder. "I feel like... you're getting better, Ohma-san."
"Am I?" Ohma paused, then gave a faint smile. "Then I should thank you lot. And
you, too... Yamashita-san."
Inside the ring of destruction, Ren Shiroki had reached his limit of patience.
He drove his foot into the floor and lunged.
[DRIVE RUSH]!
WHOOSH!
A heavy straight punch aimed for Gaia's solar plexus.
But Gaia didn't block. He didn't even move his arms. He simply stood there,
waiting for the impact.
The punch fired out, but as it reached the target, there was no sound of impact.
No resistance. The strike reached its maximum extension, Ren's knuckles stopping
an inch from Gaia's stomach. The wind pressure from the blow ruffled Gaia's
shirt, making the soldier smirk.
"A powerful fist. But it will never find its mark."
Ren didn't stop. He pivoted half a step and fired a lead-leg snap-kick toward
Gaia's head.
[LUKE'S MUZZLE]!
Zip!
The foot whistled through the space where Gaia's head should have been, but
again, it felt like kicking through a ghost. To the observers, it looked like
Ren had simply whiffed the strike.
"Heh..." Gaia signaled for him to keep coming.
"Aha!"
Ren laughed, finding the sensation exhilarating. He exploded into a rapid-fire
barrage, using his fastest techniques.
A high vertical kick that descended like a falling axe.
[RYU'S HEEL DROP]!
Bang-bang-zip-thud!
[LUKE'S TRIPLE IMPACT]!
Light, Medium, Heavy—three different rhythms, three different ranges, three
different levels of torque.
Every single strike "passed through" Gaia's body. Gaia remained an untouchable,
semi-transparent entity. Ren couldn't lay a finger on him.
"..."
Ren finished the combination and retreated two steps to reset his breathing.
Gaia raised a hand, offering a faint smile. "I see it now. I understand."
Ren tilted his head in confusion.
"Before we arrived," Gaia explained, "Motobe-sensei spoke to me about your
combat style, Ren Shiroki."
"He evaluated us as having a 'Terrible Compatibility' (Aisatsu). I didn't get it
at first. Now, I do."
Gaia looked at Ren, his voice dropping into a serious, analytical tone.
"According to Sensei, your martial arts focus entirely on the perfection of the
Self-Consciousness. You rely on an intense, focused will to pilot your body,
purging every scrap of the 'Unconscious'."
"You call it the [ENGINE], right?"
"That level of willpower allows you to master the human machine. It lets you
surpass biological limits. Even Motobe-sensei was impressed by it."
Gaia's eyes sharpened. "But that is exactly why, Ren Shiroki... you can never
beat me. In fact, your chances of winning are even lower than the Ashura's!"
"This isn't a gap in technique. It is a fundamental mismatch of archetypes!"
Gaia pointed a finger at Ren.
"I have lived on the battlefield for a long time. My primary talent is the
ability to read an opponent's 'Battle Spirit.' I look into their mind, perceive
their intent, and predict their next move before it even happens. I react to the
thought, not the strike."
"In other words... you, a man who has purged the 'noise' of the unconscious and
operates on pure, high-intensity Consciousness? You are a bright, shining signal
in the dark. To my eyes, you are a book written in giant capital letters!"
"Heh... I see now. This match was decided before you even threw the first
punch."
Gaia spread his arms wide, standing like a true Deity of the Earth. He offered a
serene smile, welcoming Ren's next move.
"I can feel your every thought. I can read your every intent."
"Your fists and feet are useless against me!"
(End of Chapter)
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