CHAPTER 38: EXPLORING PERSONAL STYLE
For Ren Shiroki, the situation was a mixed bag.
The good news: Fusui Kure wasn't in a hurry to collect the debt.
The bad news: Fusui Kure wasn't in a hurry to collect the debt.
Overall, it leaned toward "good news," mainly because Ren currently didn't have thirty million yen lying around. After excluding the Kujo Building—which was a mess of legal disputes with the Nogi Group—Ren still had exactly ten million yen in liquid cash from Q-Taro's safe.
In Tokyo, that was about five years' worth of a salaryman's total income. It was a significant sum. Using it all to pay back a debt immediately would be tactical suicide; money, after all, was a tool meant to generate more money.
Ren wasn't a businessman, but he knew that a large pile of stagnant cash was a wasted opportunity.
Invest it? Put it in a high-yield account? Real estate? Stocks? Or invest in "Himself" by buying professional-grade training equipment? And how should he approach the Kengan Association? What was the Nogi Group's endgame?
Choices swirled in his mind, requiring careful deliberation. In the meantime, he decided to be upfront with the girl from the legendary assassin clan who had attached herself to him.
"Well... it's not the worst outcome!"
Ren was naturally optimistic. Although Fusui specialized in firearms, she was still a Kure. She was well-versed in the family's secret martial arts, making her an elite sparring partner.
ZIP!
Ren vaulted off his lounge chair and stood up, jerking his chin toward Fusui. "Up for a little movement?"
"You bet!" Fusui hopped on the balls of her feet, grinning.
She enjoyed visiting the Shiroki property. Part of it was personal interest, but part of it was a direct order from the Kure Clan. The Kure family didn't just "improve the breed" through genetics; they were obsessive collectors of combat techniques. They watched, they learned, and they incorporated the best of the best.
Ren's style was a bizarre anomaly that had piqued the Clan's curiosity. Fusui had been honest about her mission to "investigate" him, and Ren had welcomed it with open arms. He had no intention of hiding his moves.
In Ren's philosophy, the concept of a "Hidden Ultimate Technique" was a symptom of insecurity. Take the Shinshinkai, for example—one of Japan's largest Karate organizations with over a million students. Their doors were open to anyone with the will to learn, and they welcomed dojo-challengers.
If you isolate yourself to protect your secrets, you stagnate. You have to be brave enough to expose everything you have, then use that exposure as a catalyst to evolve even further.
The sun was still high. Ren and Fusui weren't fighting for blood; they were "playing" with their techniques. It was like a Karate Kumite session—slow, deliberate, focusing on the dialogue between strike and parry.
Ren opened with a standard mid-level straight punch. Fusui parried it effortlessly.
He followed up immediately with Ryu's [Rising Thrust] uppercut, aiming for her chin.
Fusui took a half-step back to slip the blow, simultaneously snapping a hand-blade strike toward Ren's throat.
"..."
Ren pivoted, catching Fusui's wrist and pulling her off-balance, causing her strike to whistle past his ear. He then raised his right leg high, splitting his legs into a vertical line before bringing his heel crashing down.
[RYU: AXE KICK]
"!"
The veins around Fusui's eyes bulged. She triggered a micro-burst of [Removal] to boost her dynamic vision.
At Ren's current speed, the kick was unavoidable if she tried to dodge. She had to "Accept" the move.
ZIP!
Fusui stepped into the arc, bracing her hands against Ren's shoulders to launch herself into a jumping knee strike.
She predicted Ren would have to retract his leg to defend his core, giving her the momentum. But to her shock, Ren didn't retract. He twisted his torso to the right, letting his raised leg sweep past her while his left hand reached out to grab her waist, driving her toward the ground.
WHOOSH!
Fusui was inches from being slammed into the grass when Ren's right hand caught her, steadying her descent and placing her gently on her feet.
"Whoa!"
Fusui tumbled onto the grass anyway, letting out a long sigh of mock frustration. "I thought you were a Karate guy! Where did that grappling move come from?!"
Ren thought about it for a moment. "It just felt... natural?"
He was being honest. He hadn't overthought the transition. He had simply felt the "flow" and blended the styles of Ryu and Zangief.
He sat down on the grass, crossing his legs in thought.
Ryu and Zangief were his masters. They taught him their forms. But Ryu and Zangief had once been students, too. They had learned from their own masters, fought a thousand battles, and eventually forged styles that fit their specific bodies and temperaments.
Inheritance isn't a carbon copy.
Every fighter has a different build, a different mindset, a different skeletal structure. If a student blindly mimics a master, the best they can ever be is a "near-perfect" copy—they will never surpass the original.
Ryu, Zangief, and the other shadows in his mind... they didn't want a clone. They wanted Ren Shiroki to take their seeds and grow something unique.
"Perfect. Simply perfect!"
Ren's eyes lit up. He slapped his thigh and stood up, reaching out to pull Fusui to her feet. They dived back into the exchange.
Nearby, Arisa had just returned from school. She had finished her homework and was watching the pair with an expression of mild boredom.
She had gone to the convenience store and bought a bag of discounted potato chips and a bottle of cola. She was leaning against the wall, living her best, most unhealthy life.
Beside her sat a massive, hulking figure with a surprisingly innocent face.
It was Marco.
Since the night at the Kujo Building, Marco had been a frequent visitor. Akagi was a drifter, and Baku was always in the middle of some scheme, so when Marco got lonely, he wandered over to Ren's place.
Arisa hadn't been intimidated by him for a second. By their second meeting, they were best friends.
"Here, Marco. Chips."
"Thank you, Arisa-nee!"
"I told you, call me 'Little Sister'..."
"Okay, Arisa-nee!"
"..."
Arisa sighed. The logic of a "Giant Baby" was hard to argue with.
"Seriously, where did my brother find you? Did he beat you so hard your brain reset?"
"Who's a good boy? You are! Do you want more snacks tomorrow? I'll buy the spicy ones for you."
Arisa—a high school girl with nerves of absolute titanium—chugged her cola with one hand and ruffled Marco's hair with the other. It was like she was petting a stray dog the size of a grizzly bear.
After several more rounds of sparring, both Ren and Fusui were drenched in sweat and gasping for air.
Fusui had lost more rounds than she'd won, which pricked her pride. Capitalizing on Ren's fatigue, she used her lighter frame to scramble onto his back, locking her arms and legs in a tight rear-naked choke.
Ren managed to tuck his chin and get his hands inside the grip, preventing the choke from sinking in, but they were stuck in a stalemate.
Fusui rested her chin on the top of Ren's head, giggling. "Come on, Ren-chin! Just tap! You're stuck~!"
Ren grunted, his muscles straining. He couldn't shake her off, but using the power of his lower body, he began to walk forward with her entire weight hanging off his back.
Neither was willing to lose the final round.
The stalemate was only broken by the sound of a luxury car pulling up to the curb.
The car stopped at the gate. Kaede Akiyama, the secretary for the Nogi Group, stepped out, clutching a stack of manila folders. She looked up and saw the two warriors sweating and tangled together in a bizarre wrestling hold.
Kaede blinked behind her glasses. "Am I interrupting something?"
"No... you're arriving... at the perfect time..."
Ren squeezed the words through his teeth. Seeing that Fusui had no intention of letting go, he craned his neck toward the visitor. "Akiyama-san... long time no see..."
"...Indeed."
Kaede didn't waste time on small talk. she gave a professional bow. "Thank you for your hard work on the Kujo assignment. The Nogi Group is prepared to deliver your compensation. I believe you will find it satisfactory."
"The reward concerns a 'Kengan Association Membership.'"
Kaede pushed her glasses up her nose, her eyes sharpening. "The Nogi Group is offering to facilitate your entry into the Association. Not just as a hired fighter... but as a Formal Member with the authority to initiate matches of your own."
"Chairman Nogi is ready to pull the strings for you."