Sunlight poured into a classroom at Tokyo Den High School, cutting across the desks in slanted beams. A light breeze drifted through the open windows, easing the otherwise stifling tension in the air.
Every student shared the same miserable goal, finish the test in front of them.
Pens scratched furiously across paper. Some students stared blankly at their desks, lost in thought, while others risked quick glances around the room before forcing their eyes back down.
Fujita, the invigilating teacher, waddled steadily between the rows. His rounded belly strained against his shirt as he monitored the class with practiced vigilance.
Yet in this tense room, two students stood out for all the wrong reasons.
Baki had written nothing more than his name before leaning back in his chair, staring at the ceiling as if contemplating life itself.
Sol Mirek was even worse. He had his head down, fast asleep.
Fujita stopped beside Sol's desk, his brows knitting together.
"Are you seriously asleep, Sol?" he asked, irritation creeping into his voice.
"Huh?" Sol lifted his head slowly, hair tousled, eyes half closed. "Teacher Fujita, something wrong?"
Fujita picked up Sol's test paper, then glanced at Baki's. His shoulders sagged as he sighed.
"One of you only wrote his name. The other did not even bother to do that," he said flatly. "You two are impressively calm."
He looked back at Sol, his frustration softening into concern. "What were you doing last night? Playing games until morning?"
"I went to Central Park to train," Sol replied lazily, rubbing his eyes.
Fujita adjusted his glasses. "I heard from Teacher Yamamoto that you and Baki both scored full marks on the physical exams."
He exhaled sharply. "Honestly, why do you not just drop out and aim for the Olympics?"
Whispers immediately spread through the classroom.
"Caught by Demon Lord Fujita, they're doomed."
"Honestly, Sol and Baki might actually make good athletes."
"Enough talking," Fujita snapped. "Focus on your tests."
The room fell silent again as he leaned closer to Sol.
"Tell me, Sol," he said, tapping his temple, "what do you think built this school?"
Sol blinked.
"It is this," Fujita continued firmly. "The brain. Intelligence."
His tone softened, becoming almost earnest. "This world does not run on brute strength. It runs on the mind."
"No matter how fast you are, you cannot outrun a motorcycle."
"No matter how strong you are, you cannot lift a car."
"No matter how well you swim, you cannot beat a speedboat."
"No matter how high you jump, you cannot fly like a glider."
"I am not wrong, am I?"
Sol nodded slowly. "You're right, teacher. Humans cannot outrun motorcycles."
Fujita felt a spark of hope. Sol was listening, at least a little. If he improved his academic scores, his future could still be respectable. With physical abilities like his, even a career in the police was possible.
Just as Fujita prepared to continue, a quiet snort of laughter came from beside him.
He turned sharply. "Van Ma, what exactly is so funny?"
Baki wiped his eyes. "Sorry, teacher. I just thought of some people who can defeat wild beasts."
Fujita scoffed. "I have lived long enough to know that kind of nonsense does not exist."
He gestured out the window toward the sports field. "Even someone like Bolt could not jump into this classroom from down there. He would still need stairs."
"That is the limit of human beings," Fujita said confidently. "And overcoming those limits requires intelligence."
As he spoke, a red haired man dressed in a tight combat outfit stood below the building. He was tall, powerfully built, and staring directly at the classroom.
Doyle, one of the five death row inmates.
He bent his knees slowly, muscles tightening. The ground cracked beneath his feet.
With a thunderous impact, Doyle launched himself upward.
Glass exploded inward as he smashed through the classroom window, landing behind Fujita with a heavy thud.
Students screamed. Desks scraped across the floor.
Fujita stumbled backward into Sol's desk, his face pale. Still, he spread his arms wide.
"Run," he shouted, voice shaking. "I will stop him."
Doyle did not even look at him. His gaze was fixed on Sol.
"Watching you get lectured from the field," Doyle said calmly, "was painful."
"So I came straight in. Faster this way."
Fujita stepped forward, trying to protest.
"Get out," Doyle said coldly.
He waved his hand.
Fujita was sent flying into the wall like a discarded doll.
Chaos erupted. Students fled in all directions.
Sol stood up slowly, eyes sharp, a faint chill in his gaze. "You came for me?"
Doyle grinned. "I heard you defeated Spike and Dorian."
"I want to test you."
Baki stepped forward, blocking Sol. "This is a school. If you want to fight, do it somewhere else."
Doyle glanced at him. "Baki Hanma. Your opponent is downstairs. Waiting."
Sol placed a hand on Baki's shoulder. "I've got this."
Baki nodded, then leapt straight out the shattered window.
Screams followed immediately.
Students rushed to the edge, only to see Baki land cleanly on the sports field below.
Doyle spread his arms, amused. "Do you see, Sol? Ordinary people panic over everything."
"It is a shame someone like you is wasting time in a classroom."
"There are differences between people. You just have not accepted that yet."
He cracked his wrists. "Let us begin."
A sharp clang cut him off.
Sol had flicked a ballpoint pen. It sliced past Doyle's cheek and embedded itself deep into the wall behind him, still vibrating.
Sol shouldered his bag. "Let's take this outside."
He stepped onto the window frame and jumped.
Doyle wiped the blood from his cheek, laughing as he followed.
The students crowded the broken window, fear written across their faces.
That man was a monster.
Could Sol really handle him?
___
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