Yang sat in the guest room, knees on the floor, eyes closed.
Tick… tack… tick… tack…
The rhythmic ticking of the clock was the only sound reverberating through the room. Its steady order gave the space a strange sense of stability, making Yang's mind clear—almost perfectly suited for thinking.
"How will Matsuo Shozan approach me?"
Based on the way Master talked about him, they were on the same level.
But he wasn't sure cause after all doppo calls everyone his equal, first it was Juumei kuga and now shozan
Yang glanced at the door behind him.
…!
His eyes widened in shock.
Near the door, a faint white figure was sitting on its knees.
It was facing his back.
Yang immediately turned his gaze forward again, his pupils trembling.
Wha—?! Since when was someone behind me?
Crik… creak…
The wooden floor groaned.
He's coming closer?
Stand up, damn it! Hurry!
Yang screamed at himself.
Veins bulged along his legs, but they wouldn't move. So he slammed his right hand against the floor, forcing himself up, then twisted his body and spun—his kick slicing through the air toward the figure behind him.
"Oho !! Nice You got me."
A man was sitting on his knees behind him. He leaned back slightly, letting Yang's kick pass harmlessly over his face.
"That was a good one."
Yang frowned, looking down at him.
The man only smiled widely.
"You're Yang, right? The name's Matsuo Shozan."
…!
Yang tilted his head.
He had imagined Shozan as someone older than his master. After all, Doppo had said the man had been a master even before him—since the war.
But this man… didn't look that old.
Maybe it was the way his face was built. The muscles around his jaw looked hardened, like they had endured generations of punches to the chin.
His eyebrows were sharp, and the hair growing over old scars gave them a jagged shape—almost like the blades of a Nepalese axe.
Plus he had hair, combed short black hair
"Mister Doppo told me about you," shozan said.
"…He did?"
"Yes... he told me something so interesting i had to meet you for myself."
Shozan's eyes drifted down to Yang's legs.
"And he wasn't lying."
He shifted his sitting posture, crossing his legs instead.
"Huff… can't hack it anymore," Shozan muttered with a chuckle. "My legs went completely numb trying to act cool...you dont mind right ? Making myself comfortable?"
Yang shook his head and sat back down, now facing Shozan.
"…"
They stared at each other for a while.
Shozan wore a wide smile. Yang answered with a scowl.
"So, Yang-chan… you'll represent Shinshinkai in my tournament, right?"
Yang nodded.
"Do you think you'll do better than Mister Doppo's son?"
"Of that, I don't know," Yang replied calmly. "But I'm certain I won't lose in the first match."
"Oh, I like that answer," Shozan chuckled. "So you'll leave it to fate, is that what you mean?"
"No i will win "
Shozan tilted his head a wide smile spread across his face
"Do you think you could win against me, then?"
"…?"
They stared at each other again.
"The winner of the next open tournament gets a shot at me," Shozan continued with a grin. "So, what do you say?"
Yang studied him carefully.
"Well… based on your build alone, I can't say."
His eyes lowered toward Shozan's legs.
"But your feet…and hand"
His feets looked slightly bent inward.
His hand edge looked bent inside
To most people it might have looked like a disability
But Yang knew better.
When a technique becomes part of someone's life long enough, the body begins to adapt to it—reshaping itself for survival.
In my case, it was the stance and seiken from my time in juvie.
In his case…
Yang's gaze sharpened.
Mae-geri and knifehand strike
He must have forged it during the war.
He may have even more
"keep this in mind—during this tournament, you'll face guys you've never seen before. People like Kiryu… Yu… and me."Shozan said lightly " so dont let arrogance blind you "
He knows Kiryu? Did Master tell him everything?
Yang felt the urge to facepalm but resisted it.
"So… the winner fights you, right?" Yang asked.
"Exactly."
"Then let's say I fight you here and now. What would be the point of the tournament?"
"Ahahaha… you're a scary guy, Yang-chan," Matsuo laughed.
Then—without warning
Swoosh !
Yang's right fist shot forward. The air twisted around his arm like a drill.
Matsuo leaned back.
At the same moment, his leg snapped forward.
Fast.
No it faster.
Even though Yang had started the attack, Matsuo's kick reached him first.
It slammed straight into his stomach.
Yang's abdominal torso muscles had been hardened by years of training—especially from his time in juvie. His body had adapted to withstand kicks.
But Matsuo's kick was something else entirely.
If that strike had landed on an ordinary person's back, it might have punched a hole straight through them.
"GAAH!"
The air was crushed out of Yang's lungs.
Still, he managed to grab Shozan's foot as it dug into his stomach.
Shozan simply raised his leg.
And with a casual flick
He hurled Yang straight through the roof.
Yang's head smashed against the wooden beams. As he fell back down, he twisted in midair, landing on his feet before immediately lunging at Matsuo again.
Matsuo calmly raised a hand to him
"That's enough."
What?!
"I'm sorry. If I hadn't retaliated, I would've been in trouble. Forgive me."
Yang straightened, a scowl still on his face—but a faint smile crept across it.
"So Mister doppo words were true… you really are a monster. This is the first time I've seen someone like me."Matsuo turned and began walking toward the door.
"Training one technique to its absolute peak is good," he said casually. "But it's even better if you learn a few others—otherwise you become predictable."
He paused briefly at the doorway.
"See you at the tournament, Yang."
Then he left the room.
___________________________________________
Sorry if there are any mistakes in this chapter or if it was bad,I didn't spend much time on it compared to the next chapter.
And since Matsuo is based on Mas Oyama, who was nicknamed "God Hand," I made that the title of the chapter where he appears.