CHAPTER 50: TRIAL MEMBERSHIP
The group gathered in the yard, each finding a comfortable spot to watch the show.
Hina Hongo wandered through Ren's "estate," her star-shaped pupils darting around with intense curiosity. She was taking her "Grand Tour" of the future Combat Hub.
"Ren-san, you told me so much in the van!" Hina said, counting off on her fingers. "For example... you said there would be enough equipment to rival a professional training camp?"
Ren felt a cold sweat prickle his neck. "It's... it's on order. I've already added everything to the cart..."
Hina nodded, her expression unreadable. "And what about the logistics? A dedicated medical wing? Specialized trainers?"
Ren, currently sitting on his heels, muttered softly, "Recruitment is... ongoing."
"I see~!"
Hina clapped her hands, her eyes sparkling with even more anticipation. "And most importantly... where is the beautiful, state-of-the-art arena?"
Ren hugged his knees and began to rock back and forth. "Under construction... mostly..."
"..."
Seeing the "Man of Absolute Might" reduced to a whispering, depressed heap, the onlookers couldn't help but sigh. Hina Hongo's destructive honesty was, in some ways, more powerful than her fists.
But Hina just giggled.
"I'm just teasing! It's fine! Logistics, buildings, weights—those are just things you buy with money. They don't make a Dojo."
"The key is the People."
Hina's tone shifted. She stepped into Ren's personal space, tilting her head as she locked eyes with him.
"Ren-san... we had a deal. High-level sparring and technical exchange. When are you going to show me what you've really got?"
"..."
Ren's depression vanished instantly. His body went still, his spirit centering in an instant.
On his next breath—
ZIP!
Hina lunged with a low-line leg sweep.
Ren reacted before his brain even processed the movement. He slammed a palm into the dirt, using it as a fulcrum to vault into a handstand. From that inverted position, he whipped his legs around in a wide, circular kick.
BAM!
Hina caught the heel with her palm, the force pushing her back several feet. Ren used the momentum to flip back onto his feet, resetting his stance.
"Hahaha! That was amazing~!"
Hina beamed. "Against those assassins, you used Karate and Grappling. But that move just now? That was Kung Fu, wasn't it?"
"But it's weird... it's like Drunken Boxing, but with the rhythm of Street Dance."
Hina's technical knowledge was terrifying. Or perhaps, she simply had a natural affinity for identifying "Might" in all its forms.
Ren moved on the balls of his feet, his steps light and erratic. "It's called Breakdancing. I'm trying to blend the two."
"Incredible~!"
Hina lunged again, her fist chambered. Ren slipped to the side, but Hina pulled the punch mid-flight, instead driving a knee straight toward Ren's groin.
"SH—!"
Ren slammed his palms downward, catching the knee and using the impact to hop backward, widening the gap.
"Hmm, strange," Hina mused, blinking innocently. "Groin strikes and eye gouges are standard in the underground. Most 'Kung Fu' styles that prioritize survival use a side-facing stance to minimize the target area."
"But your form just now was wide open. You almost let me get you. Is it a new style? Are you still practicing the basics?"
"..."
Ren nodded.
In his mind's eye, the "New Phantom" was looking at him with utter disdain. The shadow—a lean youth with a liquor gourd—was shaking his head and performing the moves himself, his movements fluid, rhythmic, and full of a wild, uncontainable energy.
The Master's message was clear: Hina isn't enough. You need someone more intense, more 'lit,' or you'll never find the rhythm!
But no matter how hard Ren focused, the details of the phantom remained blurry. He was missing a catalyst.
"Ren-san looks troubled..." Hina noted. She retracted her guard and waved a hand. "Go practice! Get it right! I don't care about the gender gap—I want to see your moves at 100%!"
Clearly, Hina was the type to save the "best food" for last. Since Ren's new style had piqued her interest, everything else felt like a boring appetizer.
Ren wiped the sweat from his brow. "So... are you joining the Hub?"
"I'll fight whenever you want! But let me have a few 'Trial Lessons' first!"
Hina turned to Nozomi Tenma. "Nozomi-san, I'm feeling a bit... 'unsatisfied' right now. That league match you mentioned—can you set it up tonight?"
"..."
Nozomi swallowed hard. She had seen Hina's power, and it terrified her. But as a promoter, she saw the dollar signs.
If I can harness this monster... the sky's the limit.
The Next Night. Shinjuku.
A basement jazz bar had been rented out entirely by the Jinguji-gumi. Tonight, it was a theater of war.
Ren arrived with Yuzuha Li. They were met at the door by Ichika, who led them into the smoke-filled room. Nozomi and Hana were already at the ring-side.
The atmosphere was a wall of heat and noise.
"Not bad!" Yuzuha noted, impressed. "This doesn't look like a start-up circuit. The hype is way higher than last time."
Hana smiled proudly. "Including the hostesses and staff, we have over two hundred and twenty people in the building tonight!"
"Double the turnout," Ichika noted, glancing around. "Adding the 'Fanservice' staff really classed the place up. It feels like a real event now."
"But..." Ichika looked at Yuzuha. "If Hina Hongo is so strong, why aren't we putting her up against you? That would be a huge draw."
Nozomi and Yuzuha shared a look.
"Because of the 'Threshold,'" Nozomi explained. "If we play our 'Aces' right away, we blow the audience's minds. Their expectations will skyrocket. If we can't find a monster to match them next week, the crowd will feel cheated and the circuit will die."
"You have to build the ladder. One rung at a time."
Nozomi's eyes flickered to the ring. "Besides, tonight's challenger is a legitimate beast. Thanks for finding her, Ichika."
"Heh. It was nothing," Ichika smirked. "She used to get into street fights in my old district. I 'educated' her a few times. I offered her a spot—and threatened to reopen her old assault files—and she agreed immediately."
Ichika pointed to the far corner. "She's a Top 16 Judo finalist. Dropped out of high school and joined the Rokushin Kaikan. She's a first-dan black belt in Full-Contact Karate."
"..."
The announcer's voice boomed over the speakers, far more professional than the previous night.
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! IT'S TIME FOR THE MAIN EVENT!"
"IN THE RED CORNER! THE REVOLUTIONARY PRINCESS... HINA HONGO!!"
Hina stepped out, still wearing her school uniform with athletic safety shorts underneath. The crowd didn't see it as lazy; they saw it as "Authentic." The delinquents in the stands went wild.
"AND IN THE BLUE CORNER! THE TREMBLING KILLING MACHINE... MIHO MOMOSE!!"
A woman in a heavy gi, with short-cropped hair and a stern expression, stepped into the light. She looked like she was made of iron.
As the fighters prepared, Ichika led Ren and the others to Miho's corner to say hello.
"Yo! Thanks for filling in tonight, Miho-chan!"
Miho gave a dry, humorless laugh. "Iori... you're a cop running an illegal fight ring. The Tokyo Metropolitan Police are officially doomed."
"It's a side-hustle! A side-hustle!" Ichika brushed it off. "Anyway, watch your head. This kid is on another level."
"Mhm," Miho nodded, looking bored. "You guys are all gathered in my corner because you don't think I can win, don't you?"
The group didn't answer. They had seen the IDEAL assassin's face. They knew what Hina was.
Nozomi whispered, "Her fists are heavy, Miho. Don't let her find your rhythm."
Ren Shiroki suddenly spoke up. "Try the Sanchin Stance."
"Eh?" Miho blinked.
Sanchin-dachi was a fundamental Karate stance—the "Three Battles." Feet shoulder-width apart, toes turned inward, knees slightly bent, center of gravity low. It was the ultimate defensive posture, designed for rooted stability and core tension.
Miho knew the stance well; it was a staple of the Rokushin Kaikan. Did this guy really think she was so outclassed that she needed to resort to a static defensive turtle-shell just to survive?
Miho's brow furrowed. She stepped onto the sand without answering.
The referee signaled the start.
"READY—GO!"
ZIP!
The match began, and before Miho could even raise her guard, Hina blurred. She lunged forward with a single, committed straight punch aimed at Miho's chest.
Miho's eyes widened. She didn't have time to dodge. In a panic, she remembered Ren's words and dropped into a deep Sanchin Stance, locking her core.
THOOM!
The punch connected. Miho's chest visibly caved in, her gi fabric stretching under the pressure.
"!?"
Miho couldn't even scream. Her breath was stolen. She felt her ribs groan, her consciousness flickering on the edge of a blackout. But because of the Sanchin Stance, her feet stayed planted. She didn't fly back.
Hina retracted her fist, a look of genuine surprise on her face.
"Oh? You didn't go down in one? That stance... was that because of Ren-san's advice?"
"Haha! Ren-san's 'Might' really is the best. If I stay with him, I'll definitely find someone even 'Faster'..."
Hina smiled at Miho. "But for now... you're done."
Hina delivered her second punch.
BOOM!
The sound was like a sledgehammer hitting a side of beef. Miho's ribs shattered. She sprayed a mist of blood and foam before collapsing into the sand, her eyes rolling back.
A two-punch knockout. Ten seconds.
Hina turned toward Ren, her eyes glowing.
"Okay, Ren-san. I'm convinced. I'm joining the Hub!"