Chapter 67: Taking a Master and Learning the Arts
Ennan Tatsumi suddenly picking a fight with him… Takumi acted like he didn't give a damn about that guy, but deep down he knew full well: the wise old strategy was right—despise the enemy tactically, respect them strategically. If he burned three points of mana to reach third-tier combat strength, he had zero doubt he could take on one opponent head-on, or even ten at once. Problem was, mana burn had a strict time limit. He couldn't stay at peak forever. Only by digging out that third-tier potential and turning it into his normal state would he truly stop fearing outnumbered fights.
So Takumi opened the reward he'd drawn from the lottery.
The training ground shifted—welcome to Ryōzanpaku.
Ryōzanpaku was a dimensional world inside the training ground, so no mana cost to enter. Spend a hundred days inside, and barely any time passed in reality. Normally entering this place would cost at least a hundred points of permanent mana since it was Bronze-rank. Getting access during the early mana-accumulation phase was pure luck and a golden opportunity.
"Apachai, Apachai!"
Following Fuurinji Miu to the backyard, Takumi spotted a pitch-black-skinned man—Southeast Asian features, throwing punches. The moment the guy noticed them, he jogged over with a huge grin.
"Miu! This the new disciple? Apachai! Training with me, right? Right?"
He was tall but skinny—not stick-thin, yet nowhere near bulky. Still, the way he moved was like a perfectly straight spear: unyielding, unbreakable. Ferocious energy rolled off him in waves. Seeing his eager puppy-dog face, Miu hurriedly waved both hands.
"No way! Grandpa said you never know the meaning of 'holding back.' Even I might get killed sparring you—forget about a newbie!"
"Apachai…"
The man's face crumpled like a disappointed kid. Takumi already knew from the anime—this was Apachai Hopachai, 28, the Grim Reaper of the dark Muay Thai underground. He'd been practicing Muay Thai since he could walk.
Modern circles called Muay Thai one of the most brutal arts—unbeaten for five centuries. Fierce, explosive, no frills: just high-quality power and brutally efficient technique. Fists, elbows, knees, shins—every strike aimed to end the fight instantly.
Takumi was honestly interested in Muay Thai, but he wasn't the protagonist Kenichi. No protagonist halo to make all six grandmasters teach him. He had to follow Fuurinji Hayato's arrangements. Besides, Apachai was pure-hearted and kind… except when fighting anyone who wasn't a child or an animal. Without plot armor, getting trained by him could easily send you straight to the afterlife.
So Takumi gave the man an apologetic glance and kept walking behind Miu.
Then he felt it—someone trailing right behind him.
He whipped his head around. Nothing.
But he was still a fighter. That hadn't been imagination. Without changing expression he poured mana into his five senses, pushing them to the absolute limit. Finally he barely caught it: a short middle-aged man in an old Republic of China-style outfit, wide-brimmed hat, two thin whiskers, zipping around him at insane speed. Moving so fast he stayed completely outside normal 180° peripheral vision. To anyone else he'd be invisible—like a ghost.
"Ma Kensei! What are you doing?!"
Before Takumi could speak, Miu shouted.
The man stopped instantly and grinned.
"Miu-chan! So this is the newcomer Elder mentioned? Not bad, not bad at all. Born with 'ki' flowing naturally inside—no trace of any school's style. A true natural. Physique is a bit lacking, sure, but Elder said he knows basic 'wave motion.' Had to come see for myself. He spotted me instantly and even reinforced his five senses—technique's crude, but the talent's there. You're bringing him to me as a disciple, right? Gotta be my student!"
"Sorry, Ma Kensei. Grandpa says he already has a very solid karate foundation and near-master-level potential… but he's apparently better suited to karate."
"What?! That drunkard actually teaching a disciple? Don't ruin the kid's future! Hey, boy—what's your name? I'm Ma Kensei, master of every Chinese fist style. Come train with me!"
Takumi's heart skipped. he'd much rather learn Chinese kung fu… but again—he knew who his master in Ryōzanpaku would be. No choice in the matter. The invincible superman Fuurinji Hayato had already decided.
"You perverted old lech, what right do you have to talk about me? Since when can't I teach a student?!"
A burly man stepped out holding a sake bottle. Nearly 190 cm tall, stacked with muscle, a vicious scar slashing horizontally across his nose. Terrifying at first glance. Anyone who didn't know better would instantly think he outclassed Ma Kensei just from size. Takumi knew the truth: in the anime they never fought, but their strength was dead even. Never judge by appearance.
"Ugh…"
The man kept hiccupping sake breath. This was the master Fuurinji Hayato assigned him—Sakaki. Looked perpetually drunk, yet he was a 100-dan karate monster. Rumored to have won the national karate championship while shot multiple times in his youth. So overwhelmingly strong he got exiled from the Japanese karate world. Loved drinking. Got honest when wasted.
Sakaki walked up, eyed Takumi for a moment.
"Not bad… some potential. Train hard and you could reach 21-dan black belt. Add ki properly and you might actually become a decent disciple."
Ma Kensei sighed dramatically.
"Boring. This dojo hasn't had a new student in years. Finally someone I like—and he's starting with karate. What a waste."
"Ma Kensei, if you want disciples you already have a hundred thousand. Plenty stronger and with more potential than this kid. Stop whining."
"Tch. Not worth arguing with you. I'm off to sneak photos of Shigure sleeping. Heh heh heh…"
With a sleazy chuckle Ma Kensei vanished. Moments later, distant screams and the sound of a hundred blades unsheathing echoed over. Miu pressed a hand to her forehead.
"That hopeless pervert never learns…"
She glanced at Takumi.
"Ma Kensei taking an interest in you… it's not because you're both perverts from Planet Ero, right? Heavens forbid—if master and disciple were both giant wolves I'd seriously consider moving out of Ryōzanpaku."
"Uwaaah! Senpai, I'm sorry! Please don't arbitrarily add attributes to me! The H stuff is all wrong!"
Takumi immediately started self-reflecting, deeply regretting that earlier moment when Miu's beauty made his mask slip a little. The "pervert" tag was the last thing he needed. He was clearly just a very refined beast, okay?!
"Hmph."
Miu huffed, turned to leave, then paused.
"If that lecherous old man tries to sell you indecent photos, you absolutely cannot buy them. Got it?"
"Got it."
"Absolutely!"
"Absolutely."
Only then did Miu relax and walk away. Takumi muttered inwardly. Wait… did Miu get secretly photographed by him too? Why else would she be so nervous? Heh heh… if Ma Kensei offers me some later, should I buy? Tough call. Sure, this was just a hot-blooded fighting manga world, but Ryōzanpaku housed two major beauties. Besides Fuurinji Miu there was one of the six grandmasters—Kōsaka Shigure, Weapons Mistress, age unknown, possessed gigantic R-cup assets, near-silent, and one of Takumi's absolute favorite characters in History's Strongest Disciple Kenichi.
"If I could choose, I'd want her as master the most. Beautiful female master is peak romance."
Takumi indulged in a slightly dirty daydream.
Sakaki suddenly barked, "Oi, kid. What's your name?"
"I'm Takumi Kouichi, Sakaki-sensei."
"Hah. Don't call me sensei yet. Come on—show me what you've got. Hit me with everything."
The iron-tower man stood there invitingly. Takumi nodded, threw a punch at about fifty percent power. Strong enough to break normal bones.
It landed like hitting a truck tire. No damage. Instead Takumi was knocked back a step.
"You skip lunch or what? That all you got?"
Takumi exhaled sharply and fired a full-power straight punch—peak third-dan black belt strength. It sank into Sakaki's gut like cotton… then the cotton turned into a spring. Massive rebound force slammed Takumi backward several steps; his arm went numb.
"Hm. High-school level. That your best?"
A little pissed now, Takumi burned one point of mana—jumped straight to seventh-dan black belt. He snapped out a kick powerful enough to shatter three stacked three-inch boards.
Sakaki casually raised one arm to block. Common sense said thigh beats arm. Here? Completely overturned. Takumi's power sank into an ocean—zero effect.
"Now that's more like it. Seventh-dan. When I was still in high school competing nationally, I was about there too. But damn, your raw body is way too weak. You have to burn ki just to show real strength. If you went all-out burn I'd guess you could triple your power… still too shallow. Your technique and strength are decent, but the flesh is pathetic and your ki-burning method is crude as hell. Unfortunately Elder's rule is strict—only body-training methods and combat experience for you. Can't help with the rest. There is someone who can assist with the body part though… shame, but I've gotta hand your main training over to him. We can still spar for experience whenever. Oi—Akisame Kōetsuji. You've been watching long enough. Come out already."
A man stepped from the shadows. Long hair like Takumi's, radiating an artist's aura. One of Ryōzanpaku's six grandmaster-level powerhouses—Akisame Kōetsuji. Master of jujutsu, a polymath genius: painting, sculpture, bone-setting, medicine (licensed physician), even famous in literary circles. Spoke fluent Russian.
"Yo, young man. After observing you I can already see your strengths and weaknesses. I'll train you properly. Of course I'm only half your master—I'll teach you how to forge the body. Fighting techniques and sparring still go to Sakaki as Elder ordered. Your karate is already fused into your bones. Switching styles now would be incredibly difficult. Like a cup already full—you can't pour anything else in."
Akisame gave a gentle smile. The look in his eyes made Takumi feel like a lab mouse. A shiver ran down his spine… but he didn't refuse. Instead he bowed deeply to both men.
"Then for the next hundred days… I leave myself in your hands, Masters."
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