Chapter 395: The Bouncy Ball
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRGGGGGHHHHH!!!"
Saw Paing lay flat on his back on the folding cot, letting out a roar that could
be described as nothing less than earth-shattering. The sound waves were so
dense the air in the infirmary seemed to shimmer.
Everyone in the room felt their eardrums throb. They instinctively raised their
hands to block out the noise.
In the middle of the cacophony, Gaolang caught Ren Shiroki's eye. He said
something, his voice a low, clipped murmur that was almost entirely swallowed by
the screaming. But Ren didn't need his ears to hear it. He read the lips and the
"Atmosphere."
"Thanks."
Soon, Saw Paing roared himself into total physical exhaustion. He slumped back
against the pillows, his chest heaving as he gasped for air, a wide, genuine
grin returning to his face.
Meanwhile, the announcer Sayaka Katahara—working alongside the Kengan logistics
crew—had finished clearing the stadium. She followed the sound of the shouting
to the medical wing. After getting a sitrep, she whispered a few classified
updates to her father, Metsudo.
Metsudo listened, then gathered Mitsumitsu, Ren, and Gaolang to share the intel.
It was simple: Toyo Electric's spies had been embedded in the crowd. They had
witnessed Saw Paing's defeat. CEO Hayami Katsumasa would likely be making his
next move soon.
But as far as the elders were concerned, that was a war for the boardrooms. They
had no intention of letting the "kids" get bogged down in administrative
politics. It would ruin the purity of the sport.
Seeing Saw Paing back to his usual self, Sayaka offered a grateful nod to Ren.
"Don't worry about it," Ren laughed. "If anything, I should be thanking you."
Ren reflected on the day. "Your commentary was top-tier! It's got a different
flavor than the Tokyo Dome. It's... pure Kengan style."
Sayaka beamed, clearly proud of her professional performance. Ren looked around
the room, taking in the bruised and bloodied faces of his friends. To him, they
were all beautiful.
"Nice. That's perfect!"
"Ho ho ho!" Metsudo Katahara clapped his hands, checking his gold watch. "The
night is still young! I'm buying! We need charcoal-grilled meat and high-grade
sweets!"
Ren raised a finger. "Make sure there's plenty of yokan."
Gaolang crossed his arms. "I want curry."
Saw Paing threw a fist into the air. "I VOTE FOR STEAK!! AAAAAAAARGH!!"
Retsu Kaioh offered a polite smile. "I'll just have some oolong tea, thank you."
Recovering, resting, training, and sparring with Phantoms.
Such was the daily cycle of Ren Shiroki.
A week had passed since the war with [THE ROARING SPIRIT]. The dispute over the
"Secret Key Card" had gone quiet, leaving Ren to focus entirely on his own
evolution.
It was a crisp, clear autumn morning.
Ren finished his warm-up, feeling peak. He hauled a 150kg heavy bag into the
center of the courtyard. Dressed in short sleeves and trunks, he stood barefoot
on the sand arena, preparing his striking drills.
Tap, tap... tap-tap—
His feet skipped across the sand, his internal rhythm syncing with his [ENGINE].
The ink-wash smoke billowed, carving out the silhouette of Ed.
{Hmph!}
Ed stood side-on, his movements light and predatory. He unleashed a series of
sharp, whip-like jabs that whistled through the air—whish-whish-whish!
After a few sets, Ed paused to lean against a phantom wall. {You call yourself a
fighter, kid, so you've gotta know the name Balrog, right?}
Ren nodded. "I've heard it. The other Masters mentioned him. He was a
professional boxer."
{He was a lot of things,} Ed nodded, {and most of them weren't good. He'd be the
first to tell you he was a thug, a villain, and a piece of trash.}
{But Balrog was strong.}
Ed shook out his fist, his expression turning nostalgic. {He didn't have a
'Will' or an 'Aesthetic' or any of that fancy 'Budo' crap. He just knew how to
smash people into the dirt. His fists were full of raw, unadulterated intent.}
{It's a different kind of power than what you see in guys like Gaolang or Alai
Jr. Their boxing is a 'Martial Art.' Balrog's was a 'Weapon.' You need to feel
that weight for yourself one day.}
Ed smirked. {He had one move in particular... it was pretty fun.}
{Hey! I'm gonna show you something new. Let's see if you've got the guts to pull
it off.}
Ren's eyes lit up. He felt like he'd just been given a new toy. "Nice. That's
perfect!"
This was the daily reality of the Hub.
Ryu, Zangief, Jamie, Guile, Luke, Rashid, Sagat, Cammy, Dee Jay, Ed.
The Masters would observe Ren's progress and physiological state, teaching him
techniques that complemented his evolving "Synthesis."
The Phantoms had their own routines, too. Zangief would recommend Russian
literature and hold "Reading Circles" with Ren; Jamie loved the city's night
views; Cammy obsessed over the local stray cats; Dee Jay would constantly bug
Ren for feedback on his new lyrics.
And Ryu? Ryu was a silent sentinel, always training, but he developed a
surprising fondness for the sweets Arisa brought home.
Snap!
Ed snapped his fingers, bringing Ren back to the moment.
He stood side-on, his rear right fist firing forward in a straight line that
kicked up a localized gale. He retracted it instantly, returning to his basic
Philly Shell.
{Hah!}
The movement was elastic and high-tension.
Ed wasn't finished. He clenched his right fist, pulling it back to his waist
while his right leg anchored into a deep lunge. He was coiling like a heavy
industrial spring.
幽藍—a ghostly blue light began to flicker around Ed's fist as he concentrated his
Psycho Power.
He lunged. It was a dashing straight punch so fast it left a trail of
afterimages. It slammed into the center of the ink-wash fog.
BOOM!
The smoke imploded. But the punch wasn't the end. Ed retracted the arm
instantly, his hands returning to his jaw as he swayed in a V-pattern. It wasn't
a reckless haymaker; it was a dashing strike that maintained absolute defense.
{Hmph. Not bad, right?}
Ed waved Ren over, gesturing for him to try.
Ren began the drill.
Compared to Ed, who had spent his entire life saturated in Psycho Power, Ren's
mastery of [RELAXATION] was still in its infancy. His "Output" was lower. His
velocity was slower. His flexibility was stiff.
But Ren didn't care. He threw himself into the technique with the manic energy
he applied to everything.
One punch. Two punches. He integrated the footwork, ignoring the frames where he
stumbled, focus entirely on the "Process."
Ed watched, shaking out his knuckles. {You're getting faster. I wonder if I
looked that stupid when I was starting out...}
Ren faced the 150kg heavy bag. His feet skipped across the sand, fists held in
the Philly Shell. He began to accumulate torque for a heavy dash.
Unlike Ed's long-distance lunge, Ren needed to get closer to ensure a perfect
hit. He glided forward.
The next second—"HAH!"
He pushed off the sand, firing a heavy cross into the center of the 150kg
cylinder. THUD. The impact was so great the heavy bag was knocked nearly
horizontal.
[ED: PSYCHO STRAIGHT]!
Zip!
Ren was already moving. He sprinted "behind" the bag—the direction it was
falling—and pivoted back to face it.
Neither Ed's style nor Ren's "Combat" were one-off strikes. They were built on
the "Next Frame."
As the bag swung back toward him, Ren dropped into a low-lunge. He extended his
left hand for balance and tucked his right fist at his hip.
The bag swung into his kill-zone. Ren's legs fired like a trap. He vaulted
upward, driving a massive right uppercut into the falling mass.
[RYU: SHORYUKEN]!
BOOM!!
The 150kg bag was launched into the air. Ren's vertical force was so immense
that the heavy weight hovered two meters off the ground before gravity could
reclaim it.
The destruction flared Ren's "Willpower Addiction." His Satsui no Hado began to
swirl, his eyes glowing with a sharp, predatory light. Two pinpricks of fire
traced his movement through the air.
[SATSUI CHOICE—LINKED TIMING]!
As the bag reached the apex of its height directly in front of him, Ren's left
arm coiled. He engaged his pectorals and core, his left fist firing forward with
a high-frequency whistle.
Ren bared his teeth in a savage grin. "DIE!"
[LUKE: FLASH KNUCKLE]!
THUD—!
The bag's downward momentum was instantly converted into lateral velocity. It
was sent screaming across the courtyard—vroom-shick!—flying ten meters before
slamming into the reinforced perimeter wall.
POW!
The bag hit the dirt, a deep, fist-shaped crater visible in the heavy canvas.
A triple-heavy impact chain. Speed, power, and high-level synthesis. Ren had
just treated a 150kg industrial heavy bag like a Bouncy Ball.
Ren stood back in his stance, his muscles radiating a faint mist of steam, his
condition absolute peak.
Suddenly—
A short wooden training post flew over the courtyard wall. A shoe-tip had hooked
it from the outside, launching it toward Ren's back.
Whish!
Ren sensed the projectile. He spun on his heel, delivering a light upward hook
that batted the wood into the air. He waited for it to descend and caught it
firmly in his right hand.
The level of control required to catch a flying object without breaking it was a
tier above the Shinshinkai's "Log Cutting." It was the difference between a
master and a seeker.
Ren looked toward the gate. It was Baki Hanma.
"My bad."
The handsome youth scratched his head, looking at the cratered heavy bag with a
grin. "That looked like fun. I couldn't resist testing your reflexes."
Ren didn't mind. He welcomed the intrusion. "What's the word, Baki-kun?"
Baki tilted his head, looking serene. "I'm with Kozue today. We just came by to
hang out for a bit."
☆☆☆
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