Sol Mirek and Baki Hanma walked out of the Underground Arena side by side, the cool night breeze brushing against their faces.
Sol stretched lazily, his joints popping one after another as if shaking off the residue of a long, restless day. His expression was relaxed, almost playful.
"So," Baki said, glancing at him, curiosity clear in his eyes, "what do you think about the death row inmates?"
Sol had already defeated Dorian, one of the five, so his opinion carried weight.
"Strong," Sol replied casually, lips curling into a faint smile. His fingers brushed his chin as if replaying something amusing. "Dangerous too. That's what makes them fun."
The images lingered in his mind.
The smell of blood.
The oppressive killing intent.
Each of them felt like something that had clawed its way out of hell.
Baki grinned. "Yeah. Same here."
His eyes burned with excitement.
At the same time, the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department was in complete disarray.
Superintendent Matsumoto and his subordinates stared in disbelief as Spec punched straight through a reinforced concrete wall with his bare hands, only to calmly return to his original detention room and lie down to sleep.
Cold sweat dripped down their faces.
No one spoke.
Finally, Matsumoto removed his cap, his shoulders slumping.
"…There's nothing we can do."
"He's already back."
"Report everything exactly as it happened."
The second night after Mitsunari Tokugawa announced the start of the fights.
In a quiet park, Baki walked hand in hand with Kozue Matsumoto. Their fingers were interlocked, their steps unhurried.
Several meters behind them, a towering bald man stood over two meters tall, his hands tucked into his pockets. His lips twisted into a disturbing grin, eyes narrowed with crude delight.
Spec.
One of the five death row inmates.
"Heh…" he breathed, staring at Baki's back, his pupils dilating.
Spec licked his lips, a predatory glint flashing in his eyes as he followed them silently, like a beast stalking prey.
"Looks like tonight's my lucky night."
"Kozue," Baki said softly, glancing up at the sky, "the moon's beautiful tonight."
She smiled warmly, leaning closer. "It really is."
Baki answered vaguely, his attention caught between her scent and the calm moment they shared.
Spec continued to tail them, waiting patiently for the perfect opportunity.
Behind him, another presence moved just as quietly.
Sol Mirek.
Dressed in a black training outfit, he followed at an easy pace, spinning a fallen leaf between his fingers.
He had no intention of interfering at first.
But after wandering Tokyo all day without a single death row inmate showing up, Sol had gotten bored.
So he came here.
After all, this was where Spec was supposed to appear.
Sol leaned against a tree, eyes locked on Spec.
"So slow," he muttered. "You planning to grow roots or what?"
He wanted Spec to make the first move.
Ambush for ambush.
"You're the first person," Baki said suddenly, turning to Kozue, his eyes serious, "besides my mother… that I've ever truly admired."
Under the moonlight, he gently cupped her face.
Their eyes met.
Then they kissed.
That was when Spec moved.
His massive body exploded forward, fast and silent, muscles bulging as he lunged like a charging beast. His foot slammed into the ground, leaving shallow cracks in the pavement.
Baki sensed it instantly.
But before he could react, he saw Sol behind Spec.
Sol flashed him a thumbs up.
Then he vanished.
In the next instant, Sol appeared beside Spec and unleashed a brutal whip kick straight into his waist.
Baki covered Kozue's ears, closed his eyes, and pulled her closer, refusing to break the moment.
A heavy impact echoed through the park.
Spec's body flew like a cannonball, crashing into a thick tree trunk with a deafening crack.
The tree snapped.
Spec collapsed onto the ground, coughing violently as blood spilled from the corner of his mouth.
"Who did that?" he roared, forcing himself upright, eyes blazing with rage.
His gaze locked onto Sol.
Sol stood a short distance away, hands still in his pockets, wearing an infuriatingly relaxed smile.
"Is sneaking up on people really that fun?" Sol asked lightly.
Spec sneered. "You looking to die, kid?"
Sol didn't answer. He simply gestured toward the open clearing nearby.
Somewhere with more space.
Behind them, Baki and Kozue finally separated, her face flushed.
"It suddenly feels… very quiet," she whispered.
In the clearing, Sol and Spec faced each other.
"So it's you," Spec said, rolling his shoulders, bones cracking loudly. His grin widened. "I love this feeling."
"You're good at ambushes."
"I didn't get much of an education," he continued calmly, "so I don't see anything wrong with it."
"But interrupting a hunt?" His tongue flicked over his lips. "That's rude."
"You're the youngest of those four, right?"
Sol tilted his head, unimpressed, and settled into a loose stance.
Casual.
Relaxed.
Yet the pressure around him made the air feel heavy.
Spec's instincts screamed danger.
This was the man who had crushed Dorian without a scratch.
Sweat beaded on Spec's forehead, but he laughed anyway.
"Hah. Brat."
He launched forward.
His massive fist tore through the air, aimed straight at Sol's face.
Sol shifted slightly, dodging with ease.
His counterstrike landed instantly.
A sharp punch to Spec's abdomen.
The impact echoed.
Spec staggered back, coughing hard, eyes wide with disbelief.
"How…" he muttered.
"That punch shouldn't be possible."
Sol smirked faintly.
Spec's fear twisted into exhilaration.
"Good," he said, clenching his fists. "My fists and feet once destroyed a god."
"The Statue of Liberty," he continued proudly, "I shattered it with my own hands."
"This," he said, rolling his neck, "is my Breathless Barrage."
His eyes burned.
"Can you take it?"
Sol's smile widened, playful and sharp.
"Guess we're about to find out."