Chapter 341: A Man of Absolute Power (Part II)
"WAAAAAAAGH!!"
Yanagi Ryuko's scream was a jagged tear in the silence of the night. He
scrambled backward, clutching his pulverized left hand. His mangled fingers hung
at unnatural angles, and the white, splintered edges of his metacarpals had
punctured through the skin—a gruesome open fracture.
"—That makes five times I've killed you."
Kuroki Gensai stepped back, lifting his wooden geta and releasing Yanagi's
bruised Poison Hand.
The pain was so absolute that Yanagi was past the point of retaliation. He
rolled across the damp pavement, curled into a pathetic ball of agony. His right
eye was a hollow socket, his left hand was a knot of crushed bone, and he was
hacking up bloody phlegm. He looked like a cornered, dying animal.
"Eee... ugh...!"
As he writhed, Yanagi's survival instincts flared one last time. From his fetal
position, he suddenly reached into his pocket and flung a handful of lime powder
at Kuroki's face—a desperate smokescreen to buy a second of escape.
"Hmph."
Kuroki simply moved his left arm in a tight, circular parry, the motion creating
a gust of air that swatted the powder aside. He watched Yanagi stumble away, his
gait uneven and desperate. Kuroki didn't pursue immediately; he remained rooted
to the spot, his expression clouding with a brief, somber shadow as he
remembered his fallen comrade.
"All of you... come out. Do you really intend to stalk me, Kuroki, all night?"
Kuroki didn't turn around, but he was clearly addressing the wall behind him.
Ren and the others didn't bother hiding anymore. They poked their heads out one
by one, each offering a greeting to the legendary assassin. Kuroki tilted his
head slightly, his gaze sweeping over Arisa, Ohma, and Ren before lingering on
Retsu and Yagyo.
"Hmph. A Kenpo master and a Kakerou Referee?"
Kuroki didn't seem to mind the audience. He began to walk after the fleeing
Yanagi, allowing the group of five to follow. Though he was an assassin, Kuroki
moved only to hone his own martial path; his personality was stoic but not
unkind, and he didn't dislike the presence of these "shining" youths.
Yagyo offered an elegant smile. "It is truly an honor to walk alongside [THE
DEVIL LANCE]."
"You Referees are always too polite," Kuroki replied. "Just call me Kuroki. I
have had little contact with Kakerou, but it is a pleasure."
Kuroki's eyes then settled on Ren Shiroki. "So you are the owner of the Soul
Combat Hub? Metsudo Katahara mentioned you."
Ren beamed, immediately fishing out a business card to offer the legend. Kuroki
accepted it, looking at Ren with a hint of something unsaid before shifting the
topic.
"I have two objectives tonight," Kuroki explained. "First: I was requested by
Metsudo Katahara to eliminate this pathetic convict who 'denies the sanctity of
combat.' Second: I am here to settle a blood debt for my late friend, Taizan
Matsumoto."
Matsumoto?
The name was common, but when Arisa heard it, she immediately thought of her
classmate and close friend, Kozue Matsumoto.
Ren nodded. "Taizan Matsumoto was Kozue's father."
Arisa froze. She remembered Kozue mentioning that her father had passed away
when she was very young. He had been a professional wrestler and underground
fighter. The story went that he had returned home after one last match, saw his
wife and daughter one last time, and died with a peaceful smile on his face.
Arisa pieced the clues together in her head.
"That's right," Ren added. "Years ago, Yanagi Ryuko fought Taizan. Yanagi killed
him."
Kuroki raised an eyebrow. "Young man, you are well-informed on such secrets."
Ren counted on his fingers. "Well, my girlfriend's (Fusui) grandpa's (Erioh)
friend's (Tokugawa) friend is... well, Tokugawa-jiisan told me when I was
looking into Yanagi's files. It's an old-timers' network of information."
Kuroki nodded. "Hmph. The bond of the previous generation."
Ren looked at Arisa. "Don't mention this to Kozue. Her mother clearly didn't
want her dragged into the violence of that world, and Baki doesn't know the
specifics either."
Arisa nodded solemnly.
Kuroki continued, his voice darkening. "What many don't know is that Yanagi
didn't kill Taizan through superior skill. I watched the recording of that bout.
It is why I am so incensed."
"If he had won using his Poison Hand, I would have accepted his lethality. But
mid-fight, he taunted Taizan by mentioning his young daughter, intentionally
breaking his focus. In that split second of hesitation, Yanagi used a Vacuum
Palm to tear open Taizan's chest and pump toxin directly into his heart."
Kuroki clenched his fist. "I can accept the result of a battle. I cannot forgive
the desecration of it."
"Enough talk." Kuroki's aura sharpened. "I allowed him to crawl away because I
sensed... several dangerous presences up ahead."
"You may follow, but stay sharp. If even I, Kuroki, find the aura 'dangerous,'
it is no ordinary master waiting for us."
Retsu wondered if the aura belonged to his master, Kaku Kaioh, but he noted that
Kuroki used the word "several."
Presences? Plural? Retsu looked puzzled.
However, what puzzled him even more was where Arisa had managed to procure a bag
of popcorn, which she was currently sharing with Ren, Ohma, and Yagyo.
When Retsu politely declined the popcorn, Arisa reached into another pocket and
offered him a handful of sunflower seeds.
Retsu: "..."
He accepted them. It would be rude to refuse.
Yanagi Ryuko staggered through the streets, a ghost of his former self. His eye
and hand were mangled, and while he wasn't bleeding out, the constant, throbbing
agony was making him delirious.
He began to hallucinate. It felt as if the shadows of the alleyways were full of
vengeful spirits reaching out to drag him into the dirt.
He saw the martial artists he had murdered over the years. He saw Taizan
Matsumoto. He saw the prison guards he had slaughtered during his escape using
the "Void Arts."
One guard's face was particularly horrific—the man whose eardrum Yanagi had
blown out with a palm-strike, sending a shockwave that liquified his brain.
"Eee... stop it...!"
Yanagi scrambled forward, his expression twisted in terror. The "ghosts" weren't
screaming; they were whispering. They weren't even angry. They were laughing.
They were mocking him. They were laughing at Yanagi Ryuko, the man who let
himself become a slave to his "toys," a man who was too cowardly to face the
true meaning of victory or defeat.
"Bastards...! My win or loss won't be decided by a bunch of dead men! Get away
from me! GET AWAY!!"
Yanagi screamed at the empty air. Suddenly, he stopped. At the corner of the
street, bathed in the pale glow of a lamp, sat a wheelchair. In it sat a
withered, ancient old man.
Who is this? I didn't kill him, did I?
Yanagi was so far gone he couldn't tell hallucination from reality. He took a
few more steps before the truth hit him.
This wasn't a ghost. It was an old man who looked like he was one foot in the
grave.
He wore traditional cloth robes and dark sunglasses. His white hair was sparse,
and his skin was a map of deep, scale-like wrinkles. He looked incredibly frail.
Was he a hundred years old? No—he looked far, far older than that.
Who would leave a man this old at a street corner in the middle of the night?
And why was he wearing sunglasses in the dark?
Yanagi stared with his one good eye, but as he looked, he felt an unimaginable,
crushing pressure radiate from the old man. It felt as if a massive mountain had
suddenly materialized in front of him. The old man sat at the peak, while Yanagi
was kneeling in the dirt at the base.
Yanagi was so terrified he couldn't even speak.
Then, the "old man" raised a hand, waving past Yanagi—toward the group behind
him.
"Hahaha! Retsu, you're here! Long time no see! Good work, sorry to make you come
pick me up so late—"
The old man laughed cheerfully, mumbling to himself.
Retsu Kaioh looked genuinely surprised. "Master! Why are you out here alone? It
was just raining. Where are the people who escorted you?"
"Once the rain stopped, I told them to head out! They aren't 'of the world,'
after all. It's no good to scare them."
The old man waved his hand dismissively. "Oh, and Retsu—Liu Kaioh mentioned he
missed you. Remember to give him a call when you have a chance."
Retsu offered a faint smile. "I will, Master. I haven't forgotten."
Retsu turned to introduce the group. "Liu Kaioh is my teacher from the White
Forest Temple. He's nearly a hundred, but still quite healthy."
The old man's eyes twinkled behind his glasses. "Retsu, you look well. It seems
you've made some fine friends—that is good! Very good!"
Yanagi was standing right in the middle of this exchange, a bleeding, invisible
obstacle.
Retsu tucked his sunflower seeds into his pocket, a proud smile on his face as
he made the formal introduction.
"Everyone, allow me to introduce... no." Retsu corrected himself with a tone of
ultimate reverence.
"Behold the 146-year-old miracle of Chinese Kenpo... my Master, [THE SEA
EMPEROR] Kaku Kaioh!"
Retsu didn't even need to speak.
Just like the instinctive, primal shiver one feels in the presence of Yujiro
Hanma, the moment Kaku Kaioh's aura washed over them, everyone—Ren, Ohma, Arisa,
and Yagyo—froze for a heartbeat. Then, they instinctively began to applaud. Even
Kuroki Gensai offered a nod of profound respect.
Clap-clap-clap-clap!
Yanagi Ryuko stood there, cold sweat pouring down his face as the legends
surrounded him.
☆☆☆
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