As Yang was escorted out of the prison, the wind struck his face, tugging at his hair and pressing the loose strands against his skin.
For the first time in what felt like forever, his mind was at ease.
Leaving solitary confinement, he noticed how empty everything felt it ,it was the start of the moring
Everyone is probably sleeping
There was no chance to say goodbye to Ryu.
It doesn't matter, he thought. I'm sure we'll meet again someday.
"Get in."
The guard opened the back door and placed a hand over Yang's head
Yang shot him a brief look—sharp enough to make the guard pull his hand away at once.
Yang climbed into the car, the guard following after him.
Then, infront of them, the giant iron gate slowly opened.
But the moment the car passed through the gate, it jerked to a sudden halt.
"Why did you stop?" Yang asked.
"Ah ...look," the officer said, pointing forward.
They were surrounded on all sides.
A group of bikers.
He was right after all.
Yuzuru's words echoed in Yang's mind.
The moment you step out that door… they'll be waiting.
Yang kicked the door open, breathing in the fresh air, then walked straight toward the driver's side. He tapped on the window.
The officer opened it, blinking in confusion. "Hi…"
Yang raised his cuffed hands.
"Uh…" The officer hesitated—but not for long. He clearly didn't get paid enough for this.
He unlocked one cuff. Before he could reach for the other, Yang yanked his arm free and walked forward, straight into the center of the circle.
They all stared at him with malice and hatred. Every single one of them wanted a piece of him.
Yet none attacked.
The only sound filling the air was the low, rumble of motorcycle engines.
Then
A loud roar surged toward him from the front.
Yang narrowed his eyes, straining to make out its source.
Then he saw it.
A tall, muscular blond man with a pompadour hairstyle stood on top of a speeding motorcycle, perfectly balanced. His arms were crossed, a cigarette hanging lazily from his lips—as if losing control had never even crossed his mind.
When their eyes met, the man smirked.
He stomped down.
The motorcycle's front wheel dug violently into the ground, and the sudden stop launched him into the air.
He flipped twice through the air before landing cleanly inside the circle.
Now only a few meters from Yang, he could see him clearly.
He was dressed head to toe in purple—jeans and an open jacket that exposed his defined muscles, a sarashi tightly bound around his lower torso.
Wrapped around his forehead was something unusual.
It looked like… a rope?
What felt like an hour passed with the two locked in a silent stare-down.
Then, at the same moment, they lunged.
The blond still had his hands in his pockets.
When they were only a few meters apart, Yang stumbled.
"Oh, fuck."
He dropped a hand to the ground, seemingly to steady himself—or so the blond thought.
Instead, Yang twisted his body mid-fall, whipping his leg around—his heel slammed straight into the blond's chin
The impact should've sent few of his teeths flying
But The blond barely shifted. His leg dug into the ground like a stake, absorbing the blow without a step back.
In the same motion, he sprang forward—leaping—and drove a dropkick straight into Yang's face.
Yang crashed to the ground, the imprint of a shoe burned into his face.
Before his mind could even catch up to what had happened, the blond was already on him ,driving his heels down onto Yang's head.
Once.
Twice.
Thrice.
Each blow buried Yang deeper, until his head was driven into the earth itself.
Then it stopped.
The blond stood over him, looking down with his arms still in his pocket, the cigarette hanging lazily from his lips as if nothing of note had occurred.
Slowly—unnaturally،Yang pushed himself up from the hole.
His face was ruined.
Every tooth shattered.
Blood streamed from his nose.
And yet, he was smiling.
A wide, sick grin stretched across his broken mouth, gaps where teeth should have been making it even more grotesque. As Yang looked up, that empty smile swallowed his pupils whole, giving him an otherworldly presence.
It was as if the void itself had settled into his eyes and carved a home inside his grin.
The blond pulled his hand from his pocket and lunged, driving his fist straight toward Yang's head.
Bzzzzzz.
Yang snapped something up beneath his chin.
A taser gun
Chiharu's body seized instantly, muscles locking as electricity tore through him. His limbs trembled uncontrollably, teeth clenched as the current ravaged his nerves.
Yang drew his right arm back, coiling it tight against his ribs.
All his weight, all his intent, condensed into that single motion.
Ready to unleash his mightiest strike
Seikun Tsuki.
Yang's fist shot forward—fast, clean, perfectly timed
yet it still couldn't reach him.
That strike would have landed on anyone else he'd faced so far.
Hell ,It would've worked even on Yuzuru.
But this wasn't just anyone.
He was fighting Shiba Chiharu.
A man who once took on a hundred fighters at the same time,and won.
A man who defeated Mike Tyson using only one hand.
A man who didn't feel pain at all—electric shocks felt to him like nothing more than a light tickle.
Shiba ducked low, sliding between Yang's legs in one fluid motion.
Yang spun around instantly, throwing another punch, but shiba flipped backward, his boots slamming straight into Yang's face in a brutal dropkick.
Before Yang could even hit the ground, shiba lunged forward again, driving his knee into Yang's face and launching him toward the police car's windshield.
Crack!
Yang's back slammed into it violently.
His vision shattered with the windshield on impact, the world blurring and warping as pain tore through him.
Blood spilled from his eyes, warm streaks cutting down his face.
Soon, his ears began to bleed as well.
His body had reached its limit.
He can barely feel anything
Still, Yang forced his head up to look at the rising sun.
No matter how large it was, it felt insignificant compared to the man standing before him.
Shiba turned away, heading back toward his bike.
…So I lost, huh.
No.
I can still move.
Yang dragged himself off the windshield, shards of glass embedded across his back. Pain flared with every breath, but he stayed upright.
Shiba glanced back over his shoulder—surprise flickered in his eyes, gone just as quickly.
Yang limped toward him, one step at a time, stopping only a few meters away.
Then, without warning, both of their right fists shot forward and collided midair—Yang's mangled hand against the shiba's uninjured one
The moment their hands met, yang hand split in half
But Yang hadn't intended to win this exchange
He snapped his head to the side, his hair whipping across and slapping the man's face.
He flinched—eyes closing for just a second.
That was all Yang needed.
He slipped a step behind him, one smooth motion, threading an arm around the shiba's neck as his legs clamped tightly around the man's torso, locking him in place.
Shiba reacted instantly, throwing his weight backward and smashing Yang into the ground with brutal force.
Yang's grip didn't loosen.
He drove his head back again, slamming it toward Yang's face.
But the lower half of Yang's face was already shattered ,what should've been a devastating blow felt no different than striking a pillow.
Nothing worked.
Panic finally crept in, cold and suffocating, until only one thought remained in his mind
I'm going to die
Even some of his own men began to hesitate.
"Oi… shouldn't we step in? Boss looks like he's in trouble."
"He told us not to interfere, no matter what happens."
"Still—look at him," he said, pointing at Chiharu's panicked expression.
Chiharu slowly pushed himself up, Yang still clinging behind him, then slammed his body back into the ground.
Again.
And again.
And again.
But it was useless.
His vision began to blur.
___________
"Ah… should we check on him?" one of the men asked, staring at their boss's unmoving body, still caught in Yang's spinal lock.
The others exchanged looks, then cautiously stepped closer, stopping a few meters away.
"Boss?"
Though his body hadn't moved at all, Chiharu flicked his eyes toward them.
"Are you okay?"
Chiharu gave a small nod and gently tapped Yang's hand.
"He loosened his grip when I relaxed my muscles," Chiharu said. "He thought I was dead."
"…Is he"
"Yes," Chiharu replied calmly. "He died ten minutes ago."
Their gazes dropped to Yang.
His face was peaceful—almost serene ،his arms still wrapped around Chiharu from behind, as if he were holding him in an embrace.
_______________________
Sorry for rushing the end of this circle
I just couldn't wait any longer to dive into the world of Baki.
That wasn't really possible while he was still stuck in juvie
The next circle will take place in between Garouden and Yuuenchi.
Chiharu shiba