Sol Mirek's words hit the foreign fighters' lounge like an explosion.
Yujiro Hanma's laughter died instantly. His red hair whipped with his sudden shift in expression, an intense and dangerous aura radiating from him. "Kid, are you challenging me?" he growled.
Sol met his gaze without flinching, voice calm and confident. "I'm giving all of you a chance to take a shot. One opponent isn't enough."
Yujiro's pupils shrank abruptly, muscles swelling in an instant. His black training uniform stretched as if it might tear.
"Then I'll tear you apart first!" he roared, stomping with such force the ground cracked beneath him as he charged.
Yujiro's fist cut through the air, a sonic boom trailing behind it.
Sol didn't dodge. Instead, he punched back.
"Boom!"
When their fists met, the corridor shook violently, the shockwave pushing fighters back several steps.
Yujiro staggered back three paces, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. This young man's strength actually rivaled his own.
Sol stayed rooted where he stood, a slight smirk on his lips while brushing dust from his jacket. "Solid strength, but your technique needs work."
"Interesting," Yujiro sneered, rotating his numb right hand, "So you really are worth my attention."
Baki watched the clash, his heart a storm of disbelief. He had never seen anyone trade blows with Yujiro, much less match him evenly.
In that moment, Baki finally understood Sol's earlier claim that Yujiro was only a step above him. It wasn't arrogance — it was fact.
Sol scanned the room, his gaze so intense no one dared meet it. "Pick someone," he said casually. "I'm heading out. You're welcome to play house in here if you want."
With that, Sol turned and left the foreign fighters' lounge.
King Jikai and the others stared after him, fists clenched in frustration. Yet once Sol truly walked away, each man breathed quietly in relief.
They understood the gap between them and him was a chasm — like comparing a seasoned warrior to a newborn. They hadn't been crushed just physically, but in every aspect, unable even to glimpse his back as he walked away.
And with that understanding came empathy for his impatience. In the presence of such strength, their matches truly did feel like mere playtime.
After Sol left, Retsu Kaioh waited quietly for the reactions in the lounge.
"You're on the Team, right?" Baki finally asked.
"Yes," Retsu Kaioh nodded.
"I remember you have another match upcoming. Won't that drop you to four fighters? What happens to the empty spot?" King Jikai, previously silent, spoke up.
"That spot opened because two of our fighters were injured earlier," Retsu explained. "So two new members stepped in to fill the team."
"Is that allowed, adding people who aren't grandmasters?" King Jikai realized he sounded silly the second he asked — with Sol on their side, even one fighter would outclass most.
"Of course," Retsu said, calm. "There are many skilled martial artists. No reason to worry."
"Who are your two new teammates?" King Jikai asked, wanting details.
"Ron Shobun and Kaku Shunshei," Retsu answered straightforwardly. It was only fair opponents knew who they were up against.
Even Yujiro Hanma, usually unshakable, showed mild surprise at those names.
"The Mad Beast Kaku Shunshei and Ron Shobun? I see. Kaioh Kaku means business," King Jikai said, expression serious. He had underestimated their resolve.
"I hope you'll accept this match. We accept your changes," Retsu finished, turning his gaze to Oliva, who stood nearby.
Originally, Dorian should have been there. But after Sol left him defenseless earlier, Oliva removed Dorian and took his place in the tournament personally.
"We also don't want the title to become worthless. We want the best fighter to be crowned champion," Retsu said, leting sincerity show in his tone.
Oliva, until now quiet, spoke up. "What are the conditions? You can't just make demands without giving us something in return."
Retsu raised a fist then loosened it, about to speak when the doors opened again.
A monk stepped inside hesitantly. "After our team's discussion, we vow that Sol Mirek will win every match in the upcoming team battles. If he loses even once, our team is defeated."
The room fell into stunned silence.
Everyone stared at the monk in disbelief. No one expected such boldness.
The monk stood sweating under the eyes of so many powerful fighters, forehead dotted with fear.
"Do you know what you're saying?" Retsu Kaioh erupted, grabbing the monk's shoulders in agitation.
"This... this is the will of our team," the monk stammered, eyes down.
"Hey, do you even know what 'incentive' means?" Oliva flinched, shaken by the monk's reckless promise.
But Yujiro Hanma cracked a grin that was all mischief and arrogance.
"Good! We accept a five‑on‑five match!" he declared, eyes gleaming with ferocity.
"No, this isn't fair," Oliva protested, but Yujiro waved him off.
"Quiet. This isn't America," Yujiro scoffed, chin high. "If they throw down tough conditions, I'll match them. I'll take on every one of them."
"That settles it," Retsu said, knowing there could be no turning back, and walked with purpose back to his team's meeting room.
Inside the meeting room, Retsu burst in, veins bulging with anger.
"Why would you make Sol fight five matches alone? Why bring Kaku and Shobun at all if you planned this?!" Retsu demanded.
Kaioh Kaku clapped, amused.
"Clap, clap, clap," he laughed. "Delightful, delightful. Those fools actually agreed!"
"They were shortsighted," he continued, eyes shining.
"Retsu, your authority in combat theory is unmatched," Kaku praised, "but you are truly despicable!"
Retsu ground his teeth. Letting Sol fight five skilled opponents alone — it was torture. He would rather lose honorably.
"I proposed it," Sol's calm voice cut through the tension, silencing the room.
Retsu whirled toward him. "Are you insane? This isn't a joke! They're all elite fighters!"
But Kaku laughed again. "Young Retsu, don't worry. Sol is far stronger than you all imagine."
"The reason we brought Ron and Kaku Shunshei was Sol's idea," Kaku explained smoothly. "He wanted to threaten the opponents, draw stronger fighters to face him."
Sol looked around without emotion. "I'm enough to handle them."
He turned toward the door.
"I'm going to rest. Just cheer when I win," he said matter‑of‑factly and walked out.
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