Chapter 93: A Terrifying Miracle
The Final Weapon of Karate—Orochi Katsumi—growled his victory prediction.
"...I will win!"
His left arm and leg extended slowly, standing sideways. His stance stabilized, his gaze becoming solid and focused.
"Wrestling, military combat, Kenpo, Karate..."
"Shiraki-bro, every single discipline you've learned has the potential to be trained to the highest realm, reaching the pinnacle."
"I don't reject learning from others. After all, I hold similar views."
"But ultimately, I want to go further in Karate. To use all my energy to 'explore,' to 'complete' it as much as possible..."
Katsumi looked at Kei.
"But you are different, Shiraki-bro. You aren't absorbing insights; you are genuinely 'learning' those moves."
"This is your terrifying strength, but also your greatest weakness."
"You and I both learn from other schools, but you lack a backbone like 'Karate.' You cannot connect everything you've learned and master it all!"
"Therefore, you will lose!"
Swish!
As soon as he finished speaking, Katsumi charged forward. No more probing, just an all-out attack without reservation.
Seiken (straight punch), kicks, elbow strikes, knee strikes, knife-hand strikes (Shuto)—
Pushing off the ground—Flying Kick!
BANG! BANG! BANG!
A dazzling flurry of punches and kicks targeted Kei, sending blood splattering everywhere.
Kei could handle the initial strikes easily, even occasionally countering with punches.
But as the combo continued, Kei was gradually forced into defense, retreating step by step. It was only a matter of time before his defense was breached!
"This is bad!"
Watching from the sidelines, Kure Fusu noticed the key issue.
Katsumi didn't mean Kei "only knew how to imitate," but that Kei had "learned everything" he wanted to learn.
This was certainly terrifying, but it also planted a hidden danger.
Without a "backbone," so many moves couldn't be fused together. There would be gaps in the transitions between them.
Although Kei's learning ability was extremely strong, making the gaps minimal and unnoticeable to ordinary fighters, facing a top-tier master like Orochi Katsumi made the situation vastly different!
Fusu frowned tightly.
"Shiraki-chin knows the principle of 'Learning brings life, imitating brings death.' So during training, he also focused on learning the principles behind the moves, trying his best to understand them."
"But even so, facing the 'Final Weapon' who has studied Karate since childhood, Shiraki-chin's training time is still too short!"
...
Hearing Fusu's words, Yako Hikoichi was puzzled. "Is Master Shiraki's training time short? Judging by his physique and technique, it's clearly the result of long-term training."
Fusu explained in a low voice, "A few years ago, Shiraki-chin suffered from Pugilistic Dementia (Punch-Drunk Syndrome). He only recovered recently, so there was a gap of several years."
"I see. A gap period is indeed fatal. But—"
Yako changed his tone, sighing faintly. "He truly is terrifying..."
Fusu was stunned. "What?"
The elderly gentleman smiled slightly, keeping the young girl in suspense.
But Kyara couldn't stand it and explained directly, "Punch-Drunk Syndrome is basically chronic bleeding in the brain. It's an incurable terminal illness."
"That Shiraki guy recovered from a terminal illness—that fact alone is abnormal!"
Fusu was stunned again. "...Eh?"
Influenced by Kei's sister—Sakurai Arisa—and her wildly optimistic nature, Fusu hadn't really paid much attention to this before, just treating it as a miracle.
But thinking about it now, a body—or rather, a "brain"—capable of birthing such a miracle... compared to Katsumi's "talent," was equally terrifying!
"Shiraki-chin's brain—"
BANG!
Katsumi finally found an opening, prying apart Kei's defense and kicking his thigh.
Without stopping, Katsumi pursued, kicking Kei's abdomen.
Kick after kick, heavier and heavier.
Kei bent over in pain, trying to reduce the target area.
But Katsumi raised his leg, stepped on Kei's shoulder, and used the leverage to smash his right knee into Kei's face.
THUD!
Kei looked up at the sky, blood spraying from his nose and mouth in an arc.
At the same time, Katsumi used his superhuman physical ability to jump even higher, reaching directly above Kei.
His left elbow bent downwards, smashing down with full force.
THUD!
Kei's face took the full brunt of the blow. He fell backward, hitting the ground with a loud BOOM. His pupils trembled uncontrollably, his mouth slightly open, nearly losing consciousness. The deck beneath him dented from the impact.
"As expected! Using the waist and abdomen as a springboard, stepping on the shoulder for a knee strike!"
Suedo's eyes widened.
Although he had seen similar moves in the tournament that night, no matter how many times he saw it, he was shocked by the "sci-fi" nature of this technique!
To use this move, besides having top-tier physical talent, one must have trained to an almost obsessive degree!
Suedo swallowed hard. "Is the winner decided...?"
No!
Katsumi didn't choose to pursue. Instead, sensing something abnormal, he maintained a vigilant stance.
He tentatively moved forward. Just as he advanced slightly, he saw Kei using his back and one leg to support himself on the ground, kicking upward powerfully with the other leg.
[Jamie • Arrow Kick]!
Swish!
Katsumi, prepared, dodged the kick nimbly, retreating two steps.
Looking down, he saw a tear kicked into the front of his gi.
Looking up again, he saw Kei had already stood up. His body was slightly hunched, his face covered in bright red blood, even covering his eyes, looking incredibly tragic.
"Amazing, Shiraki-bro."
Katsumi praised sincerely. "Even beaten to the point of losing consciousness, you can still use moves subconsciously. This isn't ordinary imitation. You really are an incredible fighter..."
"In other words, this is a clash of finding openings!"
Kei let his arms hang down. In his blood-stained eye sockets, his eyes opened slowly, shining with an eerie brightness.
"—What did you say?"
He seemed unable to understand Katsumi's words, asking in a hoarse voice.
Katsumi maintained his stance, spat out a mouthful of bloody saliva, and smiled faintly. "I said, next is a contest of technique."
"If your technique is a '1,' then I think my Karate is at least a '1.1,' right?"
"...At least in individual techniques, I'm 0.1 higher than you."
Katsumi's gaze focused.
"Shiraki-bro, your choice is correct—entrusting your body to your skills, surrendering to the techniques you've learned, moving unconsciously."
"Wrestling, military combat, Kenpo, Karate—"
"Immersing yourself in technique, gradually mastering everything, using it subconsciously, turning it into a seamless fighting style."
Katsumi slowly clenched his fists, getting excited. "And I will attack with full force, using my Karate—using that 0.1 advantage—to find your openings with everything I have!"
"Let's decide the winner with this!"
...
Kei looked at Katsumi quietly. His eyes flickered, as if showing his consciousness speeding out of control, changing within his "brain."
"You seem to be mistaken."
"Subconscious moves, seamless fighting style—all wrong."
Kei's eyes trembled slightly. High pressure echoed in his brain, squeezing a few tears of blood from the corners of his eyes. More blood flowed from his damaged nose and mouth.
He suddenly grinned, a savage, eerie smile, possessing a lucid distortion.
"What you're about to see is a stronger consciousness, a more extreme fighting style—"