CHAPTER 36: I WON'T LOSE
"Ugh... GAH!"
Marco gasped, his chest heaving as a guttural growl escaped his throat. Strings of saliva, tinged with a dark crimson, leaked from the corner of his mask.
"How... should I live?"
He repeated Ren's words, his mind fractured by the echoes of Q-Taro's voice.
{Marco, kill!}
{You don't need to think! Just slaughter them!}
{Tch, Marco is useless. Bring out Rodem...}
The memories surged, making the phrase "how to live" feel like a burning brand against his soul. His emotions spiked into a volatile frenzy.
"Liar... LIAR!"
Marco's eyes locked onto Ren Shiroki, his voice a distorted howl of rage. "You and Father... both liars! All bad people!"
SHING!
Marco launched himself forward, unleashing a devastating, heavy kick.
Ren had been waiting for this. He didn't retreat. Instead, he stepped into the strike, his lead arm low and his rear arm high in a rigid, reinforced block.
It was an Ate-mi technique—a specialized "Counter-Guard" designed to intercept specific strikes and redirect the kinetic energy.
Zangief's combat style—a fusion of Russian Sambo and Pro-Wrestling—relied on an indestructible core and upper-body strength to absorb impact and immediately transition into a throw.
[ZANGIEF: TUNDRA STORM]!
Ren's arms snapped shut around Marco's leg like a crocodile's jaws. Using his entire body as a pivot, he twisted and slammed Marco face-first into the concrete.
BOOM!
The entire floor seemed to shudder under the impact. Marco hit the floor hard, blood splattering the carpet. His body began to twitch with an unnatural, high-frequency vibration.
Ren dropped into a half-crouch, preparing a follow-up strike, but a spike of pure, primal terror shot through his spine. He threw himself backward.
WHOOSH!
Marco had slammed his palms into the floor, using his raw power to propel his boots backward in a double-legged mule kick. The soles of his boots grazed Ren's nose, taking a layer of skin with them.
"...Tch!"
Ren skidded back, touching the tip of his nose. He felt the warm drip of blood. He couldn't take his eyes off the monster in front of him.
Is that Marco? Or is it Rodem?
He couldn't tell. The man was trapped in a psychological storm. One eye was twitching with manic violence, while the other was leaking a single, bloody tear.
"Kill... KILL!"
"No! Killing is... wrong!"
The two personalities clashed, the muscles of his face twisting into a grotesque mask.
"I WANT TO KILL!"
Finally, Rodem's personality seized control. He lunged forward like a rabid animal, claws out, diving straight for Ren.
But Rodem didn't expect Ren to meet him in the air. Ren jumped at the exact same moment.
For a heartbeat, they were face-to-face, suspended in time.
At this range, Rodem's monstrous strength had no leverage. But for Ren, it was the perfect "Kill Zone" for a grapple.
ZIP!
Ren's left hand snaked out, grabbing the back of Rodem's neck and yanking it downward. At the same time, he chambered his right arm, building explosive tension in his shoulder before driving his bicep upward into Rodem's skull.
THUD!
The Cyclone Lariat sent Rodem spiraling upward.
Ren shifted his weight instantly. He hooked Rodem's thigh and locked his limbs around the giant's torso. Using the remaining inertia of their jump, Ren began a high-speed rotation, driving Rodem's head toward the floor with the force of a falling meteor.
[ZANGIEF: BORSCHT DYNAMITE]!
BOOM!
A heavy, low-frequency roar echoed through the building. The power of the move was a fight-ender—the kind of impact that turned a normal man's skull into dust.
But as Ren released the hold and looked down, he saw Rodem had tucked his left arm around his head at the last second, cushioning the impact. From a kneeling position, Rodem threw a desperate right straight aimed at Ren's chest.
BANG!
The strike connected squarely with Ren's sternum. Ren felt a rib crack; his heart skipped a beat as the air was punched out of his lungs.
"Gah—!"
A metallic taste flooded his mouth, but Ren forced himself to swallow the blood.
I don't have time for this!
Rodem seized the opening. He lunged to his feet, unleashing a barrage of heavy, frantic punches.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Ren crossed his arms, absorbing the punishment, his mind entering the highest level of "Overdrive" as he searched for a single opening in the storm of leaden fists.
Seeing Ren driven back, on the verge of being "beaten to death," the childlike personality of Marco surged forward once more, suppressing the demon.
"I... I am strong!"
Marco's voice was a sobbing wreck. He was fighting a war inside his own brain. "I'm strong, but... I... I DON'T WANT TO KILL!"
"...Then don't!"
In the middle of the rain of fists, Ren caught the sliver of a gap. He answered Marco with a lightning-fast, mid-level front kick.
[DRIVE COUNTER: RUSSIAN KICK]!
THUD!
The kick forced Marco back half a step.
Ren followed through with a horizontal hand-blade strike. Marco blocked it, but he wasn't prepared for the second or third "Chops" that followed. They landed squarely on his collarbone and shoulders.
"It hurts..."
Marco backed away instinctively, but Ren stayed glued to him.
WHOOSH!
[DRIVE IMPACT: RUSSIAN DOUBLE CHOP]!
The dual hand-blade strikes slammed into Marco's biceps, numbing his arms. For a moment, the giant couldn't even raise his hands to defend himself.
"Being strong doesn't mean you have to kill," Ren panted, finally finding a second to breathe. He spat out a mouthful of blood.
"The 'Strength' Q-Taro taught you was a lie. A petty scam. You've never felt what it actually means to be powerful!"
"Look for yourself!"
Ren threw his arms wide, gesturing to the hallway behind him.
Marco looked. Standing there, bathed in the moonlight from the broken windows, were Baku, Akagi, Kaji, and even the Referee, Yagyo. They were watching the fight with focused, unblinking intensity.
Their eyes were different from Q-Taro's. Q-Taro looked at Marco like a tool to satisfy his ego. These men looked at him with respect—as a witness to a struggle between warriors.
In that moment, the hollow void in Marco's heart began to fill. A sense of peace he had never known began to settle over him.
The Rodem persona vanished entirely, sinking back into the darkness.
"Marco... doesn't know..."
The giant paused, then tightened his fists. He looked at Ren, his gaze steady and determined. "But if you ask what Marco wants to do right now... Marco wants to win against the Big Brother!"
"Perfect. Simply perfect!"
Ren splayed his fingers, settling back into his Zangief stance. His breathing became a deep, rhythmic pulse.
Here we go!
ZIP!
The two exhausted warriors charged each other. Marco wound up a massive punch, but his body suddenly froze.
Ren had slammed his heel onto the bridge of Marco's foot, pinning him to the spot.
[ZANGIEF: POWER STOMP]!
"!?!"
Marco felt a surge of wind as Ren's arms wrapped around his torso in a crushing bear hug, driving him backward. Marco couldn't find his footing; he was losing control of his balance.
"Marco... doesn't want to lose!"
He strained against Ren's grip. "Rodem was the killer! But Marco wants to make up for it! Marco wants to earn the chance to be good!"
Ren gritted his teeth, his eyes bloodshot with effort. "You don't have a chance!"
"I DO!" Marco roared.
Their monstrous strengths collided, but Marco had lost his momentum. Ren drove him back with everything his legs had left, pushing him straight toward the open window.
WHOOSH!
The group watched in shock as Ren Shiroki and Marco vaulted through the window together, plummeting out of the building.
They were on the sixth floor.
A twenty-meter drop. Even for a biological freak like Rodem, a fall like that was lethal without a safety line. For a human, it was certain death.
"Oi! Did they just jump to their deaths?!"
Kaji screamed, his face turning pale. "Marco wanted to change! Why did Ren-san tell him he didn't have a chance?!"
Akagi, Yagyo, and Baku walked past the frantic youth, heading toward the window with calm steps.
"The answer is simple, Kaji-kun."
Baku patted Kaji on the shoulder, a pickled plum in his hand. "Go look."
Kaji ran to the window and leaned out.
He blinked, then let out a shaky laugh.
Ren and Marco had indeed fallen, but they hadn't hit the pavement. A luxury sedan was parked directly beneath the window. The two had crashed through the roof of the car, the metal and interior cushioning the blow.
Though they were buried in the wreckage of the roof, both men were conscious, gasping for air. They were alive.
Standing next to the ruined car was a short-haired girl with her arms crossed. Fusui Kure.
"She must be Ren-chin's sniper," Baku said, tearing open his snack. "She moved the car into position to act as a crash pad."
Baku chuckled. "And Ren-chin? He told Marco he 'didn't have a chance' just to make him fight harder. He wanted to see if he could win against a monster at 100% power."
"Ren-chin is a bit of a liar, too, isn't he?"
Baku popped a plum into his mouth and offered one to Akagi and Kaji.
Below.
Ren and Marco lay sprawled on the crushed roof of the sedan.
"Hahaha!"
Marco let out a small, childlike laugh, realizing he had survived the "Deathmatch."
"Hahaha..."
Ren laughed too, though it was more of a pained wheeze. He was thinking about the fact that he now owed Fusui Kure a brand-new high-end luxury car. His debt was officially spiraling out of control.
But... it was a good fight.
To the East, the sun began to peek over the horizon, bathing the city in a warm, golden glow.
The long night was finally over.