Chapter 288: The Feint
Jaku Kaioh leaned his weight forward, putting every ounce of his torque into a
desperate sneak-attack headbutt. It connected flush with Ren Shiroki's nasal
bridge.
BANG!
Splurt!
Ren was launched backward, blood spraying from his nose in a wide arc, painting
the sand of the octagon with tiny crimson flowers.
"Hiss—!"
Jaku ground his teeth, a thin trail of steam escaping his lips. He squinted
through his glasses, his eyes shifting upward to study Ren's reaction.
Ah, Ren-kun... that had to hurt, didn't it?
Your entire face is scrunched up. From the bridge of your nose to your brow—that
'Heavy Pain' is currently flooding your nervous system, radiating through your
skull like an electric shock.
It's an acidic, blinding sting. You should be clutching your face, retreating,
eyes watering, desperate for a second to breathe.
Against a common criminal, a headbutt that clean would have ended the fight on
the spot. But for you...
As I thought... it's not enough to stop you!
Jaku's tactical judgment was perfect.
Ren Shiroki had anticipated that the "Stubborn Bull" wouldn't surrender so
easily. He had been curious to see Jaku's next move, and the answer was a
classic, desperate headbutt.
Ren spat out a mouthful of blood. Veins throbbed on his jaw and neck as he drove
his lead foot into the sand. He unleashed a deafening roar.
"MISSION START—!"
Ren's left arm snapped up, the elbow joint locked. His right fist was coiled at
his waist, his center of gravity dropping as he drove the tip of his left elbow
forward like a spear.
[RYU'S DRIVE REVERSAL: COUNTER-ELBOW]!
The rock-solid Karate strike fired at the exact millisecond Jaku attempted to
retract his head. It caught the Master square on the forehead.
BANG!
A jagged gash opened across Jaku's brow, blood pouring down his face instantly.
He was launched backward, his balance shattered. His pupils vibrated wildly as
his brain rattled within its casing.
The young Kure announcer shrieked into the mic: "Jaku Kaioh's sneak attack was a
success, but he's the one who took the heavier counter! The Master is leaking
like a faucet!"
Jaku's ears were ringing so loudly he couldn't hear the commentary, but his mind
remained tactically sharp.
"SHINK!"
Jaku growled, his face contorted into a mask of pure malice. He ignored the
blood in his eyes and lunged forward, entering Ren's inner-circle. He unleashed
a flurry of rapid-fire vertical punches.
Slap-slap-slap!
"..."
Ren defended with clinical precision, parrying and slipping the flurry without
breaking his rhythm.
As the trade continued, the concussion-induced haze in Jaku's mind began to
clear. He felt a surge of genuine admiration.
What magnificent technical depth!
Ren-kun, you say you're curious about 'What is Strength'... but I'm more worried
that my version of Strength isn't enough to satisfy your hunger!
For your sake... I will wager my life. I'll be as ugly and underhanded as I need
to be. I won't relax until the final heartbeat. I'm giving you everything I
have!!
Zip!
Jaku's striking speed suddenly doubled. It wasn't a "final gamble" or a
"berserker rush." He had been sandbagging his speed, saving his true
acceleration for the exact moment Ren grew accustomed to his rhythm. He wanted
to catch the youth in a frame-trap.
"Hah!"
Jaku dropped into a low-level sweep. The distance was perfect, forcing Ren to
lift his right leg to avoid the trip.
In that heartbeat, Jaku's right hand shot forward. He seized Ren's left ankle,
his thumb and forefinger clamping onto a specific point on the bone with
crushing force.
This was the Indian Kenpo technique: [SAN-IN-KO PRESSURE CRUSH]!
The "San-in-ko" point sits roughly 10cm above the ankle. A high-torque crush on
this nerve cluster results in an agonizing, paralyzing shock to the entire leg.
"..." "—Hiss!!"
Ren bared his teeth, the pain making his footing falter.
Jaku remained in his half-crouch, his wrist twisting as he applied a downward
pressure-lock, further destabilizing Ren's center of gravity. Then, releasing
the grip, he drove off the floor and snapped his right leg upward in a
high-velocity roundhouse.
BOOM!!
The shin caught Ren flush on the left side of his head. Ren's pupils vibrated
from the shock as he was tilted to the right.
"HYAH-HA-HA!"
Jaku capitalized on the opening, unleashing a relentless torrent of fists and
feet. Every hit was heavier and faster than the one before. The hallway vibrated
with the sound of rapid-fire impacts.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The observers in the plaza stared in shock.
"Jaku's strikes are actually dealing damage!" Jose Kanzaki shouted, his eyes
wide. "The guy was faking his output! He's been sandbagging this whole time?!"
Gouki Shibukawa slapped his thigh and laughed. "Hahaha! He's a Master of Kenpo
with the title of Kaioh! Did you really think he only knew how to talk?"
Kugo Kurachi stroked his handlebar mustache, his eyes narrowing. "He looks like
a Pro-Wrestler, sure, but Jaku Kaioh isn't fighting to please the fans. He's
fighting to Win."
Erio Kure, however, remained cold. "Using words and petty tricks to lie is one
thing. But you can't lie to a fighter's instincts forever."
Kurachi looked at the Patriarch. "Are you saying small tricks can't beat a true
powerhouse?"
Erio gave a dark, enigmatic smirk. "No. I'm saying the reason he 'can't win' is
much more interesting than that."
Pow! Bang!
Two more heavy punches slammed into Ren's guard. But through the impact, Ren's
pupils snapped back into focus. He gritted his teeth and stood tall, tanking the
hits to reset his posture.
He's recovered already?!
Jaku felt a cold shiver of dread. He had intended to use the striking flurry to
open a massive gap for a finishing joint-lock, but the window had slammed shut.
Zip!
Sensing the shift in momentum, Jaku lunged with both hands extended. He intended
to cut inside Ren's left arm and apply a high-torque shoulder lock.
But in that exact millisecond, Ren's left hand snapped up. He didn't block; he
caught Jaku's cheek in his palm and yanked it toward his own left flank,
preparing a kick-boxing style throw.
[DEE JAY'S STEPPING BEAT]!
"—?!"
Jaku gasped, frantically twisting his body to evade the palm-grab. His own lock
missed, the maneuver ending in a stalemate.
But as they prepared to separate, Jaku drove his left knuckles forward, digging
them into a pressure point on Ren's chest.
Zip!
It was a "Meridian Strike"—it dealt no physical damage, but it sent a surge of
paralyzing pain through Ren's nervous system, leaving his limbs momentarily
sluggish. Ren realized he couldn't counter-attack in time and raised his arms in
a tight guard.
"THAT'S IT!"
Jaku roared, raining down a barrage of punches onto Ren's defensive shell.
Bang-bang-bang!
In terms of raw striking, Jaku was only a "high-level" master. He lacked the
"Apnea Rush" of a monster like Speck. A gap in his offense was inevitable.
Zip!
Ren adjusted his footwork. He fired a left hook, followed by a right straight.
He used the momentum to spin on the ball of his foot, launching a lightning-fast
back-fist.
[DEE JAY'S FUNKY DANCE]!
Bang-pow-whack!
The rhythmic, high-velocity Kickboxing combination hammered into Jaku, the sound
of the impacts echoing through the plaza. Jaku gritted his teeth, absorbing the
damage while retreating half a step to maintain his guard.
Zip!
He spotted a tiny opening in Ren's recovery frames and fired a high-speed jab,
but Ren parried it effortlessly.
Seizing the proximity, Jaku tried to dive in for another grapple. Ren responded
instantly with a rapid-fire flurry of punches.
[LUKE'S TRIPLE IMPACT]!
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The strikes forced Jaku back, his defensive shell barely holding.
This is fine! Jaku thought, a bloody grin hidden behind his beard.
I'll stay defensive. I'll take the hits and wait for the 'Technical Itch' to
consume him. I'll use micro-feints to confuse his perception and drain his
stamina. I only need one opening! One arm-bar and the match is mine!
The fourth round of offense and defense began. Ren moved with the unmistakable
rhythm of a world-class Kickboxer, alternating hooks and straights.
Bang! Bang!
Jaku braced himself. He was covered in blood, but his resolve was iron. He read
the patterns: If he goes for a heavy strike, I evade. If he stops to breathe, I
lunge. If he tries to throw... well, that's my world!
I see it! Here it comes!
Ren drove off the floor and began to spin. His third strike—the back-fist—was
primed.
I knew you'd go for the same combo twice! You're getting predictable, Ren-kun!
Jaku read the "Killing Intent" of the back-fist perfectly. He dropped his guard,
his hands spreading wide to snatch Ren's arm the moment it arrived.
But to Jaku's absolute horror, Ren stopped. He had only thrown two punches. He
killed his rotation mid-spin and reset his stance instantly.
[FUNKY DANCE: FEINT]!
"—!?"
A feint?!
Jaku's heart skipped a beat. He went on total defensive alert, tracking Ren's
next move.
I see it now!
Ren's weight was on his left leg. He drove off his right foot, his body
beginning a full rotation. It was the "Killing Intent" of a massive spinning
roundhouse.
"DIE!"
Jaku dropped into a low crouch, his hands reaching out to catch the leg.
But the next heartbeat—ZIP!
Ren completed the rotation, but no kick came. He had simply spun on the spot
without extending the leg.
[DEE JAY'S WAVERING STEP]!
Another feint?!
Two consecutive high-level feints completely deleted Jaku's defensive rhythm. He
had committed to two different grapples against ghosts, leaving his upper body
wide open.
Jaku's heart sank. I'm dead.
Ren's right hand bunched together into a rigid hand-blade. He unleashed a series
of horizontal chops.
[ZANGIEF'S MACHINEGUN CHOPS]!
BANG! BANG! BANG!
Three heavy strikes caught Jaku flush on the side of the face. The "God of
Wrestling" vomited blood as his skull was snapped laterally. He was launched
through the air, hitting the sand with a heavy THUD.
"Hahaha! Splendid!!"
Gouki Shibukawa slapped his knee, laughing with pure delight. "Old Man Erio was
right! That was a much better way to win!"
Kugo Kurachi looked confused. "Wait... I don't get it."
Erio Kure explained: "Feints, traps, psychological manipulation... those aren't
the exclusive property of underhanded 'Actors' or Pro-Wrestlers."
"You think a Wrestler is the only one who knows how to lie?" Erio's lips curled
into a smirk. "When a real Fighter decides to tell a lie... their level of
deception is a hell of a lot higher than any actor on a stage!"
(End of Chapter)
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