Chapter 59: The Second Bout Against Suzuki Tsuyoshi
Everyone watched with their hearts hammering against their ribs, terrified of missing a single crucial second. At some point, Shizuka's left hand had found its way onto Hachiman's right arm, gripping it like a lifeline.
In her tension, she reflexively tightened her hold, making Hachiman wince in legitimate pain.
Hachiman glanced over at the stiff, nervous Hiratsuka Shizuka. He didn't dare speak—sigh! It hurt, sure, but it wasn't exactly life-threatening. Hiratsuka-sensei's physical strength wasn't that monstrous.
However, half a minute later, Hachiman was filled with regret; his arm had gone almost completely numb.
"Sensei... Hiratsuka-sensei..."
Hachiman opened his mouth to ask her to let go, but a sharp shout from the arena pulled his attention back.
On the stage, Akishin launched another assault. He lowered his center of gravity, his feet driving powerfully against the floor. In a flash, he was in front of Tsuyoshi, wielding his shinai with just one hand.
Tsuyoshi had been wary of this very move. His pupils dilated, and he swept his shinai across his chest to parry the strike while backpedaling.
Just as the shinai was about to clear Tsuyoshi's body, Akishin's left hand suddenly snapped onto the hilt, whipping the blade to the right and catching the left side of Tsuyoshi's torso.
Accompanied by a thunderous kiai, Akishin retreated back to the starting line to maintain his zanshin.
Tsuyoshi's raw physical power couldn't match Akishin's. Even with Akishin using a single-handed grip, Tsuyoshi hadn't been able to fully deflect the blow in his rushed state.
Chishima Akishin:
* Strength: 22
* Agility: 18
* Charisma: 16
* Constitution: 22
* Skills: Kendo [Expert] — Grandmaster (TBD), Cooking (Master), Go — Master (TBD), Hand-to-Hand Combat (Expert), Firearms (Expert), Sword Meditation...
* Skill Points: 0
A strength stat double that of a normal adult male was more than enough to physically dominate Suzuki Tsuyoshi. Unfortunately, relying solely on that was a high-risk gamble because it left one open to counterattacks; Kendo, after all, prioritized technique.
It wasn't that Tsuyoshi was weak. If converted to numerical values, he'd have at least 18 points. He had practiced Kendo since childhood, and his strength already far exceeded that of an average person.
All three judges raised their small red flags, awarding the point—the ippon—to Akishin. The stands erupted in a brief roar before settling back into a tense silence.
Akishin and Tsuyoshi returned to their starting positions.
The judge gave the command, and the match resumed. Two minutes had already elapsed.
This time, Akishin wasted no time stepping forward to unleash a slash. Suzuki Tsuyoshi parried immediately.
Tak!
Akishin had no intention of backing off after a single strike. His shinai began to rain down in a relentless barrage, hammering against Tsuyoshi like a sudden downpour.
Tak, Tak, Tak, Tak, Tak...
It was the exact same pressure tactic Tsuyoshi had used in their previous match. Now, Akishin was throwing it right back at him.
Tsuyoshi couldn't withstand the onslaught and was forced to keep retreating. A look of sheer anxiety flickered behind his face guard; Akishin's attacks were too fierce, leaving him no room to breathe, let alone counter. If he loosened his grip for even a second, he'd be finished.
Just as they reached the edge of the boundary, Akishin suddenly stepped back, feinted a forward thrust, and then executed a powerful vertical upward slash.
The shinai in Tsuyoshi's hands nearly flew out... no, it actually did slip, but he managed to snatch it back in the blink of an eye.
Seizing that split-second opening, Akishin delivered an explosive tsuki. The tip of his shinai landed flush against Tsuyoshi's throat protector.
"Men!"
Akishin's sharp cry echoed throughout the arena. As the sound faded, Akishin hopped back to the starting line and gave a respectful bow to Suzuki Tsuyoshi.
He had won again.
If it weren't for the mountain of competition rules, he could have ended this much faster. He could have thrown a kick or even tossed the sword like a throwing knife if it were disarmed. Of course, that was a short-range desperation move, as losing your weapon for good was usually fatal.
The judges officially announced Akishin's victory. A massive cheer exploded from the bleachers. The giant screens above the arena began replaying Akishin's final movements in slow motion.
Camera flashes strobed incessantly. The most excited people in the room were undoubtedly the TV crews and newspaper reporters—they had their headline. As long as they aired this, they wouldn't have to worry about circulation or ratings for a while.
If the competition hadn't technically been ongoing, they probably would have swarmed Akishin and shoved microphones down his throat.
Below the stage, Hachiman and Shizuka let out long sighs of relief. Shizuka finally realized she was still death-gripping Hachiman's arm and quickly let go. Hachiman lifted his sleeve, revealing a large, darkening bruise in the shape of a hand.
Haruno watched the two of them before shifting her gaze to Akishin, who stood at the center of attention on stage. A faint, knowing smile played on her lips.
Akishin and Tsuyoshi returned to their spots and removed their headgear. Tsuyoshi's face was beet-red, looking like a boiled shrimp.
"Chishima-san, may I ask... what style do you practice?"
Tsuyoshi was still replaying the match in his head. Akishin's movements didn't show the hallmarks of any specific school of swordsmanship.
While the techniques were incredibly practical, they felt like extremely polished basic movements—relying more on raw speed and combat instinct than a traditional "form."
He couldn't place the style, and neither could the scouts in the audience who were frantically gathering data.
It wasn't just Chiba locals in the crowd; other major prefectures had sent representatives to scout the competition. As the saying goes: Know yourself and know your enemy, and you will win a hundred battles. Understanding an opponent's style was half the victory.
But they saw nothing. All they saw was that Akishin was blindingly fast and his angles of attack were nightmareishly difficult to predict.
That information was useful, but it didn't provide a "counter."
Of course, Chiba Prefecture had sent its own scouts elsewhere; any prefecture hoping for a national title did the same.
Akishin glanced at Suzuki Tsuyoshi, took a sip of the mineral water Shizuka handed him, and said flatly, "Self-Taught Style."
"Self-taught?"
Tsuyoshi blinked, his expression radiating pure disbelief.
"I'm not lying." Akishin took another drink, lying through his teeth without a hint of a blush. "My teacher never taught me Kendo systematically. It was always just sparring and basic drills. As for a 'style,' there simply isn't one."
Listening from the sidelines, Hachiman had a sudden epiphany. So that's it. It wasn't that Akishin was specifically targeting him with his training methods; it was just how his lineage had always done things. Apparently, their teaching method was "trial by fire."
"Is that so? It seems you really are special, Chishima-san."
Suzuki Tsuyoshi chose to believe it, mostly because there was no other explanation for why Akishin's technique lacked the "shadow" of any known school.
The match between Suzuki Tsuyoshi and Yunomoto Shinichi was scheduled for ten minutes later. There was a brief intermission.
"Chishima-kun."
Shizuka walked up behind Akishin and held out her phone. Several text messages were visible on the screen. "Sobu High sent a message. They've dispatched a Board Member here. Since you weren't answering your phone, they had to send it to mine. I forgot to tell you earlier."
"My phone!"
Akishin reflexively reached for his pocket, only to find nothing but smooth fabric. He remembered he'd changed into his Kendo gear; his clothes—and his phone—were locked in a locker.
"What do they want?"
Akishin took the phone and scanned the messages. The gist was that Sobu High had sent a Director to assist him; the first message had been sent right as the competition started.
Following that were several congratulatory messages, wishing him luck and the like.
Below those were inquiries about his condition, expressing how thrilled they were that he'd made it into the top six.
It seemed Sobu High was keeping a very close eye on the situation. The Director's name was Okazawa Takahiro.
A Director was roughly equivalent to a Dean or a Head of Student Affairs, though there were tiers; the Principal himself was technically a Senior Director.
The latest message was from Okazawa Takahiro. The beginning was filled with sincere-sounding congratulations, and the end was a question on how to meet up, as he was currently stuck in the spectator stands.
Akishin could imagine the guy's frustration; he couldn't get through, yet he was forced to watch this massive event from the cheap seats while the school board likely breathed down his neck.
If he hadn't seen them sitting around the arena and been afraid of interrupting, he probably would have been calling non-stop.
"They're probably just here to slap their name on your achievement. A bunch of people who only show up once the hard work is done."
Shizuka's tone was icy. In her view, Sobu High hadn't contributed a single thing initially—not even an official representative.
But as soon as success was on the horizon, they came running. It was a blatant, embarrassing attempt to ride his coattails.
"Just let them."
Akishin handed the phone back to Shizuka. He scanned the stands but didn't see this Director Okazawa. Since he didn't know the man's face, he didn't dwell on it; the other party would surely approach once the matches were over.
His understanding of his coworkers was still in the "acquaintance" stage, after all.
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —
50 Power Stone = 1 Bonus Chapter (Up to 5 bonus chapters per week).
Read ahead and support the story on Patreon: patreon.com/FaaanzKun
✅ 115+ chapters ahead of WebNovel
✅ 6 new chapters every day (Monday–Saturday), exclusive on Patreon
— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —