Akihabara's Sega No. 1 Building had been completely booked for the day, serving as the venue for Tokyo's regional representative selection tournament.
The air was permeated by a completely different atmosphere from that of the small arcade in Adachi Ward. There was no smoke here, only the nervous sweat from the competitors and the distinctive scent of overheated wires and machinery.
"Daigo, don't get nervous. Just play like you always do."
The arcade owner from Adachi Ward was wearing a suit for the first time, though his tie was crooked. His solemn expression made him look like a father attending his child's parent-teacher meeting.
Daigo Umehara nodded, his usual impassive expression remaining unchanged.
His gaze, however, was drawn to two figures surrounded by a crowd nearby.
One wore a red-and-white baseball cap, a bright smile on his face as he chatted animatedly with those around him.
The other appeared more reserved, dressed simply in a T-shirt with a clean demeanor and black-rimmed glasses.
Nagai Kenta! Shirano!
Daigo Umehara's heart seemed to be squeezed by an invisible hand.
Though six years had passed, their appearances perfectly matched the images he remembered from that small TV in Aomori.
They were the champions of the first tournament, the heroes who had planted a seed in his heart that summer.
He never imagined he'd see them here, in this way.
"Wow! It's Player Nagai and Player Shirano!"
"They're also competing in *The King of Fighters*!"
The surrounding chatter confirmed his suspicions.
Nagai Kenta seemed to sense something. His gaze swept across the room, lingering briefly on Daigo before being drawn away by a familiar voice.
He probably just saw him as a kid tagging along to watch the fun.
"Adachi Ward representative, Player Daigo Umehara! Please proceed to Machine 3 in Area C to prepare!"
The announcement echoed over the loudspeaker.
The arcade owner nudged Daigo's back. "It's your turn! Hurry up!"
As Daigo approached the competition area, he saw that a staff member had thoughtfully placed the familiar beer crate in position for him.
His opponent, a fashionably dressed youth from Shibuya Ward, stared in disbelief at the kid who could barely reach the controls even when standing on the crate. His expression shifted from astonishment to barely suppressed laughter.
The surrounding spectators whispered and chuckled.
"What the hell? Are they letting elementary school kids compete?"
"Is Adachi Ward completely deserted?"
"Haha, is this supposed to be the funny part of today's tournament?"
The Shibuya Youth cleared his throat and affected a mock-serious tone as he addressed Daigo. "Kid, can you even tell the buttons apart? Want me to let you have a character?"
Daigo ignored him, silently inserting coins and selecting his characters.
Goro Daimon, Chang Koehan, Choi Bounge.
An unorthodox team that wasn't considered strong in the current meta.
"Pfft, he picked a bunch of ugly losers," the Shibuya Youth snorted, confidently choosing the then-popular Japan Team lineup: Kyo Kusanagi, Benimaru Nikaido, and Goro Daimon.
The match began.
The youth's Kyo Kusanagi immediately launched a fierce assault, attempting to overwhelm the kid with a dazzling combo.
But on the screen, Daigo's Goro Daimon calmly retreated and blocked like a rock.
The moment the youth's Hundred Style: Demon Scorch missed and left him vulnerable—
Daigo moved.
His hands became a blur on the stick and buttons.
"Overhead Sweep!"
*Hit confirmed.*
"Super Recovery!"
Canceling the stun.
"Landmine Quake!"
Pursuing.
"Tree Trunk Reversal!"
A simple yet frame-perfect combo flowed like water, instantly draining nearly half of Kyo's health bar.
The smile on the Shibuya Youth's face froze.
The surrounding laughter abruptly cut off.
Everyone stared wide-eyed at the screen, watching Goro Daimon, usually so clumsy, transformed into a precision fighting machine in Daigo's hands.
Less than a minute later: K.O.
The Shibuya Youth's first character was gone.
Sweat began to bead on his forehead.
His second character, Benimaru Nikaido, was crushed against a corner by Daigo's Goro Daimon using an iron ball, barely touching the opponent's clothes.
His third character, Mirror Match Goro Daimon, was utterly defeated. Seized by Daigo in a critical moment, he was slammed to the ground with a single command throw, the "Hell's Paradise Drop," from head to toe.
K.O.!
As the victory screen flashed, District C fell into a three-second deathly silence.
Then, a roar erupted louder than any previous match!
"Holy shit! A perfect run!"
"Who's that kid? Is he really a grade schooler?"
"Who said Adachi Ward had no talent? This is a fucking monster!"
On the other side of the arena, Nagai Kenta and Shirano, preparing to enter their match, were drawn by the deafening clamor.
"What's going on over there?" Nagai Kenta glanced curiously toward the commotion.
"Don't know. Seems like some new player's tearing up the place." Shirano adjusted his glasses and turned to look.
Their gazes pierced through the sea of moving heads, locking onto the small figure standing atop a beer crate. With a blank expression, the child hoisted the crate off the stage, preparing for his next match.
Shirano's pupils narrowed slightly.
He had witnessed the final sequence of the boy's combo—the chilling precision reminded him of his suffocatingly powerful opponent from the championship four years ago, Kitachen Genichiro.
Yet this time, there was an added wildness to the boy's aura.
Nagai Kenta chuckled, patting Shirano on the shoulder. He leaned in, lowering his voice. "Hey, did you see that? Tokyo seems to have produced a remarkable 'little beast' this year."
The semifinals atmosphere in the arena was already stiflingly tense.
When the screen projected the match lineup between Daigo Umehara and Shirano, the crowd erupted.
On one side stood Shirano, the legendary first champion, renowned for his composure and precision. Four years ago, he had shared the victory stage with Nagai Kenta.
On the other side was Daigo Umehara, the mysterious newcomer who had crushed all competition, including ten-year-olds, to emerge as a meteoric star in this tournament.
"Daigo, you can do it! Show them the spirit of Adachi Ward!" The arcade owner below the stage clenched his fists nervously, his suit jacket already soaked with sweat on the back.
Daigo simply nodded calmly and stepped onto his dedicated beer crate.
Across from him, Shirano's expression was intense as he watched the small figure perched on the crate, his gaze devoid of any condescension.
From this child, he sensed a kindred spirit—the calm and focus of a top-tier predator.
The match began!
Shirano's starting character: Terry Bogard.
On the screen, the red-hatted, blue-jacketed figure immediately unleashed a suffocating pressure. "Power Wave!" An energy wave surged along the ground, aiming to trap Daigo's movements.
Yet Goro Daimon merely retreated steadily, blocking each move. Each step was calculated with precision, forming an impenetrable wall.
Shirano's brow furrowed. He commanded Terry to feint, then strike with a lunging "Flame Punch" aimed straight for the heart!
Just as the fist was about to connect, Daigo moved.
With a subtle flick of the stick, Goro Daimon twisted his body at an impossible angle, perfectly evading the punch.
Alarms blared in Shirano's mind.
Too late.
Goro Daimon's fan-like hands had already seized Terry.
"Hell's Paradise Drop!"
On the screen, Terry was hoisted high, then slammed brutally into the ground—once, twice, thrice!
K.O.!
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