CHAPTER 95: COUNTER-INTUITION
The [ENGINE].
It was a state rooted deep within the gray matter. Through an act of absolute battle-consciousness, Ren Shiroki manual-overrode his entire physiology. He discarded the "Unconscious" and the "Reflexive," replacing them with a high-pressure, high-intensity dominance.
In this state, Ren wasn't just fighting; he was piloting his body like a high-performance machine. He could force any style, any technique, and any movement to occur at 100% efficiency, regardless of pain or fatigue.
It was a dangerous gambit. The sheer neurological load was a ticking time bomb. No one knew how much damage his brain was taking.
But behind him—within the churning ink-wash lines of his mind—the phantoms of the Masters stood watch. Ryu, Zangief, Jamie, and Guile... none of them tried to stop him.
They were warriors. They understood the price of the path. They had all, at some point, faced their own "White Heat"—the moment where you trade your future for the strength to protect your friends, your city, or your pride.
They gave Ren their heat. They lent him their resolve. They were witnesses to his quest for the ultimate answer to "What is Strength?"
"..."
Guile lowered his body. He tightened his fists, pulling his elbows back in a high-tension cross.
"COME ON!!!"
Let me show you the truth of the battlefield, kid. Don't blink. This move was forged in the dirt by professionals who only had one chance to get it right.
This was a variation of Guile's fundamental form. On top of the rock-solid side-stance, he kept his arms relaxed, his fists only half-clenched. He emphasized the sudden contraction of the lats, the pectorals, and the core.
It was the [GUILE: SOLID PUNCHER] stance.
The secret was the "Method of Release." By keeping the arms loose, the limbs could be accelerated into "Blade-strikes" with much less wind-up. The lethal [Sonic Hand-Blade] could be fired with the speed of a semi-automatic weapon.
Ren stood firm, blood leaking from his nose and the corners of his mouth. The droplets merged at his chin before falling to the deck.
"The 'Trial' is over, Katsumi-kun. This is the real war."
WHOOSH!
Ren lunged. He didn't lead with a punch. He exploded into a low-line dash and fired a high-velocity leg sweep.
[DRIVE IMPACT: BLITZ COMBO]!
Katsumi raised a leg to evade.
But with the [ENGINE] redlining, Ren's transitions were instantaneous. Before his foot even hit the deck, he had already pulled his arms into the "Release" position. His chest and core snapped shut.
"SEI—YAH!"
[GUILE: SONIC HAND-BLADE]!
This was the move that had carved furrows into Mepu Kiro's chest. It whistled toward Katsumi, trailing a visible wake of displaced air.
Katsumi's eyes flared with a mix of terror and excitement. He jumped, bracing his palm against Ren's shoulder to flip himself over the youth's head.
SHING!
Ren spun on a dime, throwing a hook. Katsumi executed a series of high-speed back-steps, staying at the absolute outer edge of Ren's reach, searching for a single micro-frame of vulnerability.
"He's... still evading?!"
Kaiji Itou stammered. "Why doesn't he just open the gap?!"
Atsushi Suedo ground his teeth, his eyes glued to the fight. "No. The General isn't running. He's realized that the only way to find a hole in Shiroki's rhythm is to stay in the 'Danger Zone.' He's dancing on the edge of a razor!"
SWISH!
Ren launched a horizontal hook. Katsumi slipped it again.
Ren's fist slammed into a shipping crate behind the giant. His knuckles didn't just hit the wood; they sliced through the heavy vinyl tarp and carved a deep, clean groove into the solid timber.
CRACK!
Wood shards and blood droplets flew through the air.
Suedo gasped. "It's exactly like before! It's not Karate... but he's turned his fists into Blades!"
Fusui Kure triggered her vision to the maximum. "He's using that move he used on Mepu! He's manually contracting his muscles to force the knuckles to act as a rasp! But wait..."
She leaned forward, her pupils shaking.
"Ren-chin could only fire one of those at a time before. But with the [ENGINE], he's perfected the reset! He's firing them in a Barrage!"
[GUILE: SONIC BOOMERANG]!
SHING—! SHING—!!
Ren was no longer using both arms at once. He was firing alternating hooks, his arms blurring into a rhythm of continuous cutting strikes.
Katsumi was forced into a desperate retreat, his forearms being peppered with shallow cuts that began to sting with a cold, metallic heat.
Ren's assault was a hurricane.
Katsumi Orochi dodged and parried, his head clear despite the blood in his mouth. He was waiting.
He knew that no matter how "Perfect" Ren's transitions were, the youth was still human. A score of 1.0 against a 1.1.
He has to breathe eventually, Katsumi thought.
ZIP!
After a particularly violent "Sonic" hook, Ren's movement hitched for a single frame. His mouth opened to gasp for a fresh lungful of air.
"NOW!"
Katsumi's gaze locked.
He anchored his heels and launched a full-commitment straight punch.
THUD.
A heavy, resonant impact echoed across the deck. Katsumi felt the power travel from his heel to his knuckles, but the sensation was... wrong.
It was too "Dispersed." It didn't feel like he'd hit a torso.
He looked up. Ren Shiroki had stepped half a pace forward, his left bicep raised like a shield. He had jammed Katsumi's arm before the punch could reach its terminal velocity, absorbing the impact on the mass of his shoulder.
He... he defended?!
Katsumi saw Ren's eyes. Through the mask of blood, they were impossibly bright and terrifyingly calm.
In that heartbeat, Katsumi realized the "Logic" of the [ENGINE].
It wasn't a berserker state. It was the absolute opposite. It was a state of Total Sanity.
In the middle of a high-tension deathmatch, Ren wasn't losing himself to the bloodlust; he was maintaining a level of calculation that was almost robotic. He knew exactly when he needed to breathe, and he had used that "Breath" as a bait to lure Katsumi into a committed strike.
It was Counter-Intuitive. It was a trap.
"Heh... HA!"
Ren Shiroki pulled his right fist back. Using the oxygen from that single gasp, he launched an upward rocket of a fist.
[RYU: SHORYUKEN]!
BOOM!
The strike caught Katsumi squarely in the chest. The giant was lifted off the deck, blood spraying from his mouth in a wide, parabolic arc.
"Hah... huff... hah..."
Ren took a deep, ragged breath. His arms were vibrating from the strain of absorbing Katsumi's straight punch.
He prepared to lunge for the finish, but he heard a sound from the shadows ahead.
It wasn't the sound of a body hitting the floor. It was the light, crisp tap-tap of boots finding purchase.
Ren looked up.
Katsumi had been launched ten feet into the air, but he had executed a mid-air rotation, landing on his feet like a cat.
His gi was torn, and a massive, dark purple bruise in the shape of a fist was already forming on his chest. He looked like he was about to pass out.
But the years of Shinshinkai discipline took over. Katsumi's body moved on autopilot, settling into a new stance.
He stood with his feet in a staggered line, his left leg extended in a "False Step." His palms were open and extended forward, his eyes fixed on Ren.
"The Maeha-gamae!" Suedo gasped.
"The General is going to use Karate's ultimate defense to counter Shiroki's 'Might'!"