CHAPTER 84: KAKEROU'S FIGHTER
It was once said that Kyara was fundamentally ill-suited to be a Kakerou Referee. His presence was simply too loud, too intense. That overwhelming "Might" of his didn't just adjudicate a gamble; it warped the mindset of the players and tilted the very axis of the game.
Madarame Baku, the Lie Eater, had once famously exploited this. In a high-stakes match on the verge of collapsing into a bloodbath, he had manipulated the situation so that Kyara was "forced" to protect him just to maintain the rules.
But that was ancient history.
Baku rubbed his aching ribs, his mind flickering back to those days.
Earlier, in the companionway, he had pestered Kyara for the keys to the arms ship. He'd used every verbal jab and needle in his arsenal, earning him several heavy-duty kicks to the gut from the afro-haired monster. This latest kick had been restrained, but the pain was still a vivid, throbbing purple.
"Haha... Kyara-san, you've definitely learned how to take a joke," Baku wheezed.
He didn't sound like a man in pain. He sounded like a man who was genuinely enjoying the "Flavor" of the room. Whether it was Kyara or Marco, these men who lived in the vortex of struggle were all gathered here, laughing. It was a beautiful sight.
Baku looked at Ren Shiroki.
To Baku, the world was a canvas of chaotic grey. Everyone was a liar, and every action was a calculated move for profit or fame. But in this youth, he saw a "Path of Laughter" cutting through the darkness of a deathmatch. It was a gravity that affected everyone around him.
"Heh... HAHA!"
Baku burst into a sudden, genuine laugh. He wasn't one to stay passive. He stepped forward, closing the distance to the Leader of Kakerou.
"Say, Souichi... that phone call. Don't tell me you're calling for outside help? Who's on the other end?"
"..."
Kaji Takaomi felt his soul shrivel. He remembered the lore: Baku's life officially belonged to the Leader. He had lost his "Heights" challenge years ago and only existed because Souichi found his survival "Boring."
How can he be so bold? Kaji wondered. Referees like Yagyo collect lives without a second thought. If the Leader gets annoyed, Baku is a dead man!
But Baku didn't look concerned. He leaned in, a playful smirk on his face.
"I recall that just minutes ago, Ren-chin dismantled one of your Referees."
Baku shrugged, his tone dripping with casual mockery. "Kakerou has always bragged that its Referees possess the 'Apex of Might'—enough to enforce the rules of any gamble. But one just got broken."
"I understand, of course. In any large firm, there are bound to be a few 'slackers' who slip through the cracks. It's a management error. It happens."
"But surely... since one has already failed, you aren't going to send another Referee, are you?"
Baku looked at Souichi with a look of mock-pity.
"If you do that, Kakerou becomes one of those generic 'villain' organizations. You know the type: 'You beat my subordinate, now face my slightly stronger subordinate!' It's a repetitive loop. It's so... unrefined."
"What happens when the next one loses? Are you going to call your father? I heard the Old Man is still quite a scrapper. Hahaha! Surely not?"
The mockery was blatant, a low-tier taunt designed to provoke. The spectators were baffled. Even Kaiji Itou was confused.
"The Leader is a god in the underworld, right?" Kaiji whispered, leaning toward Akagi. "Why is Baku-san being so rude? It seems... useless."
Shigeru Akagi let out a soft chuckle. "No. In combat, as in gambling, Momentum is a physical force."
"Baku-kun is performing a surgical exclusion. He's putting the Leader in a corner. If Souichi picks a Referee now, he admits that Baku's taunt got to him. He loses the 'Aura' of the untouchable Prince."
Kaiji blinked. "That's... incredibly petty and brilliant at the same time."
Akagi nodded. "Rules are a bad habit for the honest, Kaiji-kun. On this ship, only the flexible survive."
"However," Akagi's gaze shifted to Souichi. "The Leader of Kakerou isn't a man who can be moved by 'Petty Cleverness.'"
SNAP!
Souichi Kiruma suddenly snapped his fingers.
Joichi Yagyo, the scarred old gentleman, reached into his suit pocket and produced a small slip of paper. On it was a drawing of a scrambled Rubik's Cube.
He gave the paper a sharp shake.
SHING!
A real, physical Rubik's Cube dropped out of the paper and into Souichi's waiting palm.
A piece of high-end sleight-of-hand.
Souichi began to manipulate the cube with his long, elegant fingers. "Send a Referee to fight a Kengan Match? Why would I do something so inefficient?"
"I told you this was my 'Best Judgement.' You should trust me more, Baku-san."
Click-clack-click. In a matter of seconds, the scrambled cube was solved. Souichi set it on the table and walked toward the balcony, gesturing for the group to follow.
The people in the Grand Ballroom filtered out onto the wide, moonlit observation deck. They looked out at the black horizon, confused.
Souichi snapped his fingers again.
CLACK!
The Espoir's high-intensity floodlights flared to life, illuminating the entire upper deck and the surrounding water.
The "Might-Users" in the crowd—Ren, Kyara, Suedo, and Hina—didn't look at the deck. Their eyes were fixed on a point in the distance, high in the sky.
The rhythmic thwump-thwump-thwump of a heavy-lift helicopter echoed over the sound of the waves. It was approaching fast from the direction of central Tokyo.
"Kakerou's fighter has arrived," Souichi said, rubbing his chin. He gave a thin, satisfied smile. "He is a 'Temporary' associate of the Club, but his quality is absolute. I have witnessed it myself."
"In fact... his father is an old friend of mine. Or was it my father's friend? My memory for genealogy is a bit spotty. He's not much for gambling, so we aren't particularly close."
Souichi's eccentricities were leaking into his speech again, but the group was too focused on the chopper to care.
The helicopter flared, hovering directly above the Espoir's helipad. The side door slid open.
"!"
A man stood in the open doorway, looking down at the massive cruise ship. He let out a loud, exuberant shout of approval.
"MAGNIFICENT! WHAT A VIEW!"
The voice was vibrant, booming, and oddly familiar to one person in the crowd.
Atsushi Suedo stood at the railing, his eyes bulging in shock. His mouth fell open as he recognized the man standing in the chopper.
"WA-WAIT! BOSS?! IS THAT YOU?!"
Ren Shiroki looked up. He recognized the man too.
The name "Second-Gen" usually referred to the Hanayama-gumi, but Suedo wasn't a Yakuza. He was a Karateka. And in his world, there was only one "Second-Gen Master."
The man who had inherited the strongest Karate organization in the world.
KATSUMI OROCHI.