The air in City J was heavy with the scent of dust and ash. Reconstruction had already begun; the rhythmic hammering of workers filled the silence where screams had echoed only days before.
Kaizen sat on the edge of a broken fountain, his body still wrapped in bandages. Each breath carried a dull ache, but he no longer winced. Pain was familiar now, a companion rather than an enemy.
I lasted, he thought, watching the workers bustle. But endurance alone won't carry me forever. I need more. Techniques. Discipline. The wisdom of those who have walked further than I have.
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps measured, calm, deliberate.
An old man with flowing white hair and a beard approached. His frame was lean, his posture balanced like a blade resting in its sheath. He wore a simple martial arts uniform, but the aura he carried was unmistakable.
Kaizen's eyes widened slightly. He recognized the man instantly.
Bang. Silver Fang. The master of Water Stream Rock Smashing Fist.
The old man stopped a few paces away, his sharp gaze scanning Kaizen from head to toe.
"So, you're the one they call the man who would not fall," Bang said softly, his voice neither praise nor judgment, but something in between.
Kaizen forced himself to his feet, bowing his head respectfully. "I don't claim that name. I only fought because no one else could."
Bang studied him for a long moment. "Humility. That's good. Too many martial artists mistake arrogance for strength."
The silence stretched until Bang finally continued. "Tell me, boy. Why did you keep standing when your body begged to fall? Was it pride? Was it fear of death? Or something else?"
Kaizen clenched his fists. "…Because if I didn't, people would have died. I've read stories of martial artists my whole life. Heroes, warriors, wanderers. They all spoke of honor, of endurance, of the will to stand for something beyond themselves. I wanted to see if those words were real."
Bang's expression softened, the faintest smile curling at his lips. "A strange reason. But not a bad one."
The old master's eyes gleamed. "Show me."
Before Kaizen could react, Bang's stance shifted. His body seemed to flow like water, weightless and grounded all at once.
Kaizen tensed, his instincts screaming. This was no casual conversation it was a test.
"Defend yourself," Bang said calmly.
The spar began with a blur. Bang moved faster than Kaizen's eyes could follow, a sweeping strike aimed at his ribs. Kaizen raised his guard, but the force slipped through his defense like water through cracks, the impact sending him stumbling back.
So fast…! Kaizen's chest burned.
Bang pressed again, his strikes fluid, merciless yet controlled. Each movement carried both precision and weight, like waves crashing against stone. Kaizen tried to block, tried to counter, but every motion felt one step too slow.
Yet he refused to yield.
His body screamed in protest, but Kaizen planted his feet, absorbing blow after blow. He lashed out when openings appeared wild, imperfect, but fueled with stubborn resolve.
Bang's eyes gleamed with approval. "You lack form, boy. Your techniques are crude. But your spirit…" He increased his pace, testing harder. "Your spirit does not break."
Kaizen's arm trembled as he deflected a strike, his knees threatening to buckle. His vision blurred from exertion, but he roared and forced himself forward, throwing a punch with everything he had.
Bang caught it effortlessly.
The old master's hand closed around Kaizen's fist like iron, his movements gentle yet unshakable. "Enough."
Kaizen collapsed to one knee, panting, sweat dripping from his chin.
Bang released his grip, nodding. "Your endurance is real. But raw endurance is not enough. Without technique, without refinement, it will only carry you to your grave."
He extended a hand. "If you wish, come to my dojo. Learn the Water Stream Rock Smashing Fist. Learn discipline, not just survival. Strength must be guided or it becomes ruin."
Kaizen stared at the offered hand, his chest heaving. His heart pounded, not from exhaustion, but from a spark of something greater opportunity.
Slowly, he grasped Bang's hand.
"…Teach me."
That night, in another part of the city, Garou listened to whispers in the back alleys. His sharp eyes glinted in the dark.
"They say Silver Fang himself went to meet the man who fought the monsters.""Maybe he's recruiting him.""Wouldn't that make him unstoppable?"
Garou's fists clenched.
"Silver Fang's student, huh?" His grin spread, sharp and wolfish. "Good. That means I'll crush two legends instead of one."
Back at the broken fountain, Bang and Kaizen walked side by side toward the dojo.
The master spoke quietly. "There is another student you must meet. A boy with talent… and darkness. His name is Garou. Learn from him as well. Perhaps, in time, you'll even teach each other."
Kaizen didn't know then that this meeting would set the course of his path not just as a fighter, but as a force that would stand against monsters, heroes, and everything in between.
For the first time since his reincarnation, he felt it clearly.
This was only the beginning.