Chapter 364: The Start of the Rhythm
Gulu-pah!
Naoya Okubo's body spun through the air. Ren Shiroki had hoisted his right arm
over his shoulder and executed a high-amplitude forward throw, sending the MMA
King tumbling across the sand.
Screee—!
Okubo skidded for several meters before his momentum died, his head spinning
from the sudden change in perspective.
Wait... what just happened?
The throw itself hadn't been particularly heavy; it wouldn't even rank as
high-impact during a standard training session. But neither the spectators nor
Okubo himself were focused on the impact. Their minds were stuck on the
"Previous Frame."
It felt as if Ren's left arm had simply ceased to exist for a fraction of a
second.
"H-He threw him! Shiroki has thrown the King of Synthesis!!" the announcer
shrieked, struggling to find the words. "Okubo's flawless MMA flow has been
severed at the root!"
[The Stands]
Rama XIII's eyebrows shot up in genuine surprise. "Was that a jab? It was fast
enough to rival Gaolang's Flash Paws. I couldn't even see the movement."
Gaolang, however, shook his head. "No. That wasn't just a 'Fast Punch.' That was
the pinnacle of Datsuryoku (Relaxation)."
Rama tilted his head, waiting for the [GOD OF WAR] to elaborate.
"In combat," Gaolang explained, his voice heavy with technical analysis,
"Relaxation is the key to both flexibility and explosive power. But what Shiroki
just did... if my eyes didn't deceive me, he achieved a level of 'Absolute
Relaxation' in that limb."
"It's as if his arm lost all weight and shape. He didn't have to fight gravity
or wind resistance. The movement went from zero to terminal velocity the instant
it was conceived."
Gaolang subconsciously clenched his own left fist.
"I can't say for sure if his jab is faster than mine. Speed isn't the right word
for it. In that moment, his arm became softer than water and lighter than air.
It stopped being 'Matter'."
"And that strike... it wasn't meant to deal damage. It was a probe—a snare
designed to disrupt and trap."
"Hah... hah...!"
Ren centered himself, sweat pouring down his face. It wasn't the effort of the
punch that exhausted him; throwing a "Weightless Soul" required no muscle. The
fatigue came from the transition—when his arm returned from the realm of Spirit
to Matter. The sudden return of physical weight made his limb feel like it was
made of solid lead.
The technique was still a prototype, far from a "Finishing Move," but the
successful execution filled Ren with pure, unadulterated joy.
"Relaxation..."
Though it was only his left arm, he had achieved Soul-Level Relaxation! By
manually overriding his subconscious through the [ENGINE] and burning away every
intent except for his fighting spirit, he had touched the "Non-Physical."
Even for just a heartbeat, he could move beyond the expectations of the human
body.
"Haha!" Ren bared his teeth, ignoring the blood and sweat dripping from his
chin. "This is too much fun!"
Okubo remained on his back for an extra second, stretching his limbs. It was a
classic veteran move—using the time the referee took to reset to clear his head.
In the Pit, there was no ten-count, so Okubo took as long as he dared.
That punch... or was it a catch? The speed was absolute.
Hearing Ren's heavy footsteps approaching, Okubo finally rolled to his feet.
"Phew! Still in one piece," Okubo exhaled, rotating his wrists and dropping back
into a low crouch.
As a warrior who had survived twenty-six wars, his mental recovery was
instantaneous. He accepted that the flow of the battle had shifted.
But Combat was Combat. If you gave it your all, you could never have regrets. No
matter what strange "Spirit" tricks Ren used, Okubo's mission remained the same:
drag the opponent into his rhythm and dismantle him.
The next second—Zip!
Ren pivoted forward, his lead foot digging into the sand.
[DRIVE RUSH]!
Voom!
Ren closed the gap in a heartbeat, unleashing a flurry of light jabs to pin
Okubo down.
Thud!
Okubo raised his forearms to block, intending to move in for a clinch, but Ren
was faster. He snatched Okubo's wrist, yanked him off balance, and drove a
snap-kick into the man's solar plexus.
BAM!
The kick forced Okubo to double over. Ren used the man's shoulder as a pivot,
flipping over his back—[JAMIE: SWIRL SPIN]—and delivering a follow-up kick as he
landed.
THWACK!
Okubo was upended by the kick. But this time, having already caught his breath,
he sprang back up immediately. He lunged at Ren with a desperate tackle, using
his superior mass to bowl the younger man over.
CRASH!
Ren hit the sand on his back, with Okubo pinning his torso.
"DIE!"
Okubo cocked a massive hammer-fist, but Ren twisted his hips to the right with
explosive force, redirecting the weight of the blow into the sand.
Whoosh—!
Both men performed a lateral roll, scrambling away from each other. Ren hopped
back, but Okubo was already in pursuit, his arms wide for another tackle.
[SYNTHESIS: RETREAT TO LOCK]!
Ren dropped his center of gravity to its absolute floor. He timed Okubo's
trajectory using [LINKED TIMING], meeting the incoming torso with his own
forehead.
[ZANGIEF: HEADBUTT]!
THUD!
Okubo's nose took the full impact. His vision swam as a wave of numbness washed
over his face, his momentum stalling for a micro-second. Ren didn't waste the
window. He reached out, his fingers locking onto both of Okubo's shoulders.
Okubo, his vision blurred, relied on pure instinct to clamp his own hands onto
Ren's shoulders.
The two men were locked in a low-gravity wrestling clinch, their feet churning
up the sand as they struggled for leverage.
"HYAH!" "GRAA!"
They twisted and shoved, each trying to break the other's base, their
silhouettes carving chaotic lines across the arena floor.
"Hah... hah...!"
After a brief, violent struggle, they both stalled, gasping for air. But as they
panted, Ren began to laugh. He couldn't help himself.
"Hah... cough! ...Hahaha!" He looked at the bewildered Okubo. "Are you having
fun yet?!"
Okubo blinked, then a wide grin split his mangled face. "Yeah... doing exactly
what you want to do... it's the best feeling in the world!"
In that moment, both men reset their systems.
Whoosh!
Okubo feinted a throw, but transitioned mid-motion into a heavy right cross.
BANG!
Ren parried the punch with his left forearm.
[SYNTHESIS: STRIKE TO THROW]!
Okubo flowed into a wrist-lock, trying to drag Ren down, but Ren's feet erupted
in a series of high-speed back-steps.
[ED: KILL-STEP]!
Zip!
Ren performed a rhythmic sway, retreating with boxing-specific footwork. Unlike
his usual parkour, this was about micro-spacing—keeping himself just an inch
outside of Okubo's grappling range while observing his posture.
Okubo missed the grapple and tried to transition again—[SYNTHESIS: RETREAT TO
LOCK]—lunging back into Ren's space.
But Ren's left arm went limp again. It appeared to dissolve into the air.
[ED: PSYCHO FLICKER]!
Whish!
The "Soul-Level" arm snared Okubo's left wrist mid-lunge. With a violent
rearward jerk, Ren disrupted the tackle and dragged the 116kg giant back into
his striking range. Ren's right fist was already clenched.
Thud-thud-thud!
"Wait—what?!" Okubo could only use his shoulder to tank the hits before finally
ripping his arm free.
Zip—!
They reset again. Okubo was panting, realizing that for the first time in his
career, someone was systematically dismantling the "Start" of his sequences. Ren
was tethering him to a neutral game he couldn't win.
Now!
[ED: KILL-STEP]!
Ren glided forward, his fists working like pistons.
[LUKE: TRIPLE STRIKE]!
BAM! BAM! BAM!
The strikes slammed into Okubo's guard. Okubo weathered the storm and prepared
to counter as Ren finished his recovery frames—he planned to [LOCK] or [THROW].
But Ren's "Weightless" snatch arrived again. Before Okubo could move, he was
yanked back in. Ren stepped into the man's inner circle, using his own weight as
a counter-balance.
[RYU: SHOULDER THROW]!
THUD!
Okubo hit the sand hard, let out a muffled grunt of pain. He finally saw the
pattern.
In terms of "Flow" and "Transitions," Okubo was superior. If he could drag Ren
into a prolonged MMA exchange, he would win. But Ren wasn't competing in "Flow."
Ren was using his footwork and his "Soul Snatch" to force the match back to the
"Start of the Rhythm" every single time. He was forcing Okubo into a series of
"Binary Choices" that stripped away the MMA King's tactical advantage.
POW!
Ren landed a clean jab to Okubo's face.
Okubo felt like he couldn't breathe. It wasn't a physical suffocation; it was
the psychological pressure of being constantly reset. He had zero momentum.
Whoosh!
Okubo threw a desperate counter-punch. Ren slipped it with a lateral pivot.
—Mistake.
"HAH—!"
Ren twisted his hips, driving an upward hook with everything his [ENGINE] could
provide.
[SHORYUKEN]!
The punch caught Okubo square on the chin, upending the giant and sending him
crashing into the sand several meters away.
"Phew..."
Ren's stamina was cratering from the repeated use of "Relaxation," but he was
ecstatic. This was the pleasure of the "Process"—the joy of the trial and error
on the road to power.
The ink-wash smoke swirled. Ed's phantom appeared on the sidelines.
{Hmph... forcing the distance, resetting the neutral, and making him guess your
next move? That's one way to do it.}
Ed scratched his head. {It isn't elegant, but I can't talk—the guy who taught me
boxing was a thug, too. But listen, kid... the Satsui no Hado and this Soul
Power... they're both dangerous. They both mess with your head.}
{And you really want to juggle both?}
Ed shook his head, a faint smirk appearing on his face. {You're either a
complete moron or a genius. I almost envy your confidence.}
{But whatever. If that's what you want... then do it!}
Ren pivoted into his side-facing stance. Lead shoulder raised, right fist
clenched, left arm relaxed and swaying. He was back in the [ED: PHILLY SHELL].
His left arm began to swing in a small, rhythmic arc, losing its physical
weight. He could feel his very soul vibrating within the limb. Like a spark of
Psycho Power, it glowed with an ethereal light, swaying... and burning.
☆☆☆
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