The silence didn't last.
Renji's shock twisted into irritation almost immediately.
"Tch."
He clicked his tongue and rolled his neck once, slow and deliberate, like someone annoyed that their prey had twitched at the wrong moment.
"So you dodged," he said flatly. "Good for you."
His fingers shifted again. This time, he didn't turn away.
He watched me.
I felt it before it happened.
A pressure—sharp, directional—locked onto my chest like an invisible line had been drawn between us.
Renji flicked his fingers again.
WHOOSH—
I moved. Not fast—efficiently to the left.
Renji spoke "Hmph again. Don't get the wrong idea," he continued, voice carrying easily. "That was nothing. Just a test."
To the audience, it sounded reasonable.
To me, it sounded like someone trying to reassert control.
I didn't respond.
I stayed where I was—hands still in my pockets, posture loose, eyes half-lidded. I could feel the arena watching me now. Not dismissively anymore. Not comfortably.
Curiously.
Renji clicked his tongue.
"Fine."
He snapped his thumb against his index finger.
The air detonated.
WHOOSH—
I moved.
I stepped diagonally to my right, weight rolling onto the ball of my foot, torso twisting just enough for the force to skim past my ribs.
The air beside me screamed as it passed, carving a visible distortion into the space it traveled through before detonating against the far wall.
The stone didn't crack.
It collapsed.
Chunks of rock exploded outward, dust billowing up in a violent plume.
The arena stirred.
Murmurs rippled through the stands now—quiet, restrained, but undeniably present.
Renji didn't speak this time instead he just snapped his fingers again.
The fourth strike didn't fly straight at my center mass. It came lower—angled for my legs. I felt it before I saw it, a compressed wall of force ripping across the floor, stone cracking in its wake.
I stepped back—
Too slow.
The edge of it clipped my shin.
Pain exploded upward.
Not sharp. Not clean.
Heavy.
Like my leg had been slammed between two speeding trucks.
My body lifted slightly off the ground before I crashed back down, skidding several meters across the white platform. My back scraped, breath knocked out of me in a harsh exhale.
The crowd stirred.
A few murmurs rippled through the stands.
"There it is," someone muttered.
"So he can be hit."
I pushed myself up on one knee, jaw tight, blood already blooming under my pant leg.
Renji grinned.
"See?" he said casually. "That's what happens when you stop getting lucky."
He advanced.
Each step felt deliberate. Heavy. Like the arena itself was leaning in his favor.
I shifted my stance slightly.
Good.
That confirms it.
"Let's see how long that lasts," smirked renji.
Then he flicked again.
Then again.
Then again.
Three attacks simultaneously—no pause between them.
I felt one coming from the left, center and right.
I leaned back, spine arching just enough for the force to shear past my throat.
I pivoted inward for the second, twisting my shoulders so it grazed my side—too close. The pressure scraped against my skin like sandpaper made of knives.
The third—I was a fraction too slow.
It slammed into my left shoulder.
It didn't feel like a blast, nor an explosion.
No it felt more like being punched by a fucking speeding wall!
And with that my feet left the ground.
My body spun sideways, the air ripped from my lungs as I crashed and skidded across the smooth white floor, friction burning into my side until I rolled to a stop near the arena's edge.
Pain flared across my left shoulder it was sharp and immediate. I sucked in a breath tasting iron for the first time in this world.
That thought excited me and for the very first time in this world my battle spirit began to awaken.
This was it!
I remembered something from my previous world—my old Earth. My grandfather used to tell me that I always wore a strange smile whenever I was about to fight someone strong. Back then, I never truly understood what he meant.
But later, I figured it out.
While reading a certain manga from a familiar franchise, I learned that in that world, a person's will—or energy—was divided into two distinct concepts: battle aura and battle spirit.
Battle spirit was emotion made manifest. Joy, rage, despair, loneliness—any intense feeling could fuel it. It was the emotional drive to fight, released outward as an aura that reflected a person's spirit.
Battle aura, on the other hand, was different. It wasn't born from emotion alone, but from experience. A person who had fought countless battles, survived overwhelming odds, and grown stronger through repeated struggle would naturally possess it. The stronger the battle aura, the more seasoned and dangerous the individual.
But what I was feeling now… wasn't battle aura.
The presence in front of me wasn't someone who had survived thousands of duels or clawed their way through life-and-death combat. From Shido's memories, I knew Renji had barely ever fought at all. He preyed on the weak. He bullied those who couldn't fight back.
So no—this wasn't battle aura.
And strangely enough, the sensation I was feeling didn't even originate from Renji.
It came from me.
My emotions were stirring—excitement, anticipation, even joy. For the first time in a long while, I had been injured. Not like before, when I'd lost against the leader of the Largin Gang, where a despicable trick had crushed my spirit and snuffed out my will to fight.
Back then, there was no visible energy. No system. Nothing I could see. I could only feel it—a burning urge that surfaced whenever I faced someone truly powerful, pushing me to go all out.
When I stood against dozens—forty-seven people charging at me and later alongside their leader—I had felt it clearly. Their battle spirits clashed with mine. But even then, their emotions weren't born of conviction. They weren't warriors. They were irritated thugs, angry that someone dared to hurt their gang.
But this world was different.
According to Shido's memories, battle aura and battle spirit weren't abstract concepts here—they truly existed. They could be seen, felt, and measured, depending on how strongly a person released them.
And Renji's battle spirit?
It was weak. Pitifully so.
That realization drained the excitement from me.
The manic smirk that had begun to form on my face slowly faded as I straightened up and looked directly at Renji—not at his body, not at his stance, but at the feeble spirit he was emitting.
And in that moment, I understood.
He wasn't worth getting excited over.
Not yet maybe.
"What exactly is this guy's ability? I still haven't the memory i need, but... that's actually good. As am sure if my grandfather knew what i was thinking he'd slap me on the head and say something like:
"You fool! Your waiting to know your opponents ability? Okay let's say you remember his ability, then you beat him but what about any other opponent you'll face later on? You'll never always have info on them or their abilities! So what then huh?!"
I inwardly laughed at myself as this truly felt like the words my grandfather would say. And this also made me see sense in his words. So i smirked to myself slowly getting into the Hanmi no Kamae stance one more.
I took in a study breath and controlled my emotions and thoughts. "So the only thing to do is to beat renji before shido's memories resurface of what exactly renji's ability is. But first thing's first i need to know the limitations of this attack like ability."
I slowly lowered my center of gravity then suddenly lunged sideways as another flick came—this one aimed higher.
The force passed inches from my chest, but even missing, it tore the air apart. The shockwave slammed into my ribs, sending me stumbling.
I rolled, barely regaining my footing.
So even dodging—
Another strike. I instinctively crossed my forearms together to somehow lessen the impact but—
The impact was catastrophic.
I felt my arms scream as the force crushed into them, the vibration traveling straight through bone and into my torso. My feet dug trenches into the arena floor as I was driven backward.
Something inside my arm dented.
Not cracked.
Dented!!
Like the bone itself had been pressed inward.
I gasped, teeth grinding as I forced myself to stay upright. My arms shook violently as I dropped them, pain flaring white-hot.
Blood trickled from the corner of my mouth.
I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and of course saw-Red.
Blood smeared across my skin, thin but unmistakable, trailing from the corner of my lip.
Renji saw it, the arena saw it. And especially
Dina saw it.
Her hands clenched tightly at her sides.
"…Okay," I muttered quietly. "That one fucking hurt!"
_
Renji stopped again, rolling his shoulder.
"Huh. You didn't fly that time," He tilted his head, studying me. "Guess you're tougher than you look."
I spat blood onto the arena floor.
Forward was what renji did. He walked up close to me this time.
Too close.
And for some weird stupid that i couldn't comprehend he choose to throw a punch instead of flicking at me.
Yet i barely managed to twist aside to my left.
The blow missed my head—but the shockwave slammed into my cheek anyway.
My vision burst with sparks.
I hit the ground hard, sliding, ears ringing.
A thin line of blood ran down my face, dripping from my lip to my chin.
"Damn," someone in the stands whispered.
"He's still standing…?"
Renji exhaled sharply through his nose.
"You're annoying," he said. "You know that?"
He attacked again.
And again.
The arena became a storm of linear violence.
Every strike tore the air apart. Every miss still punished me. I dodged left—shockwave clipped my shoulder.
Right—my side screamed. Up—my ribs rattled. Down—my knee buckled.
I was bleeding now. Not dramatically.
But steadily.
My arms throbbed. My leg burned. My breathing grew heavier.
To the audience, it was obvious.
This was a one-sided beating.
"Why isn't he surrendering?" Murmured a random Urazaki.
"He can't win," said another.
"Stubborn trash!" Roared another.
Even Dina's hands were clenched so tightly she couldn't feel her fingers anymore.
But inside—
I was smiling. Why? Cuz i found out something useful about renji's ability.
He doesn't adjust mid-swing. He can't.
Renji charged again, winding up a big one.
I didn't dodge far.
I stepped just enough.
His punch missed by centimeters—and for a fraction of a second, his body lagged behind his arm.
There!
I drove my fist into his ribs.
It wasn't a strong one, nor was it empowered. It was just hella fast.
Renji grunted, stumbling a half-step before regaining balance.
The audience went quiet.
Renji stared at me.
"…You just hit me?"
I wiped blood from my mouth with the back of my hand.
"Yeah."