Chapter Forty-Seven: The Slot Machine That Decides the Schedule

Saeko found a moment to slip away and changed into her swimsuit. True to her reserved nature, it wasn’t a bikini but a more conservative design. Yet if you were to ask Kyo Hakudo, he would say: with Saeko’s figure, even a fully covered swimsuit would look incredibly alluring. Nearly every man on the beach found his gaze irresistibly drawn to her. Now and then, the sound of someone swallowing hard could be heard.

However, a number of the fighters, immune to such distractions, fixed their attention instead on Kyo Hakudo, whose pallor had not gone unnoticed.

“He didn’t look this bad yesterday.”

“So that ‘monster’ was actually injured in last night’s little test?”

“Perhaps. Maybe someone broke the rules and used a weapon.”

“Either way, judging by his condition, he’s not in good shape. If I get to face him tomorrow, I’d consider myself lucky.”

Similar conversations drifted among the fighters and their employers, even reaching Kyo Hakudo’s keen ears. He could only smile faintly. If such opponents stepped into the arena tomorrow only to find him at full strength, and their nerves betrayed them, that could hardly be considered his fault, could it?

As the two of them passed by a beach volleyball court, a brawny old man in nothing but swim trunks broke free from a gaggle of admirers and strode over to them.

“Kyo, what’s going on with you?”

Even with the telltale lipstick marks still lingering on his neck, Takemoto Hisayasu’s eyes were all seriousness as he regarded his disciple. Such a state before an important match was anything but normal.

Kyo replied with a smile, “It’s simply a matter of mental exhaustion, nothing to worry about, Master.” Then his expression grew solemn. “And... thank you, Master.”

Thank you for your guidance and for my own efforts, which allowed me to escape that terror.

The old man stared intently into the eyes of his proud pupil. Only after a moment did he suddenly burst out laughing.

“Haha! I have no idea what happened, but as long as you meet me in the arena and give me a good fight, that’s all I ask!”

“You can count on it, Master.”

After bidding farewell to his now-relieved master, who plunged back into the sea of sunbathers, Kyo and Saeko continued on their way.

“Uncle Takemoto really cares about you,” Saeko said with a soft laugh. “All the time I’ve known him, you’re the only disciple he treats this way.”

A smile played at the corners of Kyo’s mouth.

He had never met his other seniors, but from Master Takemoto’s words and actions, he could tell that none of them were the sort who could reach new heights in the martial arts. In the eyes of a pure warrior like his master, they were caretakers, not true disciples. They would never receive his affection. His care was reserved only for those who might one day be worthy opponents.

As they spoke of the old man, a figure in a black suit approached.

“Are you Kyo Hakudo, acting representative of Hakudo Storage and Logistics?”

“Yes, that’s right.” Kyo, recognizing the identical attire from the ship, had already guessed the man’s purpose.

“Then please come with me. The match order will be decided today.”

With a polite gesture, the man in black indicated the way. Without surprise, Kyo nodded to Saeko before following after him.

~~~~~~

In a grand room on Island of Wish, men and women, some in business suits, others more casually dressed, were scattered throughout. But regardless of attire, they had one thing in common: immense wealth.

Nogi Hideki, president of the Nogi Group.
Kurayoshi Rino, from Golden Entertainment.
Kanadate Shion, of Royal Sakura Academy.
...

And most importantly:

Hayami Katsumasa, Tokyo Electric.
Katagiri Metsudo, Dai Nippon Bank.

These people had wealth beyond ordinary comprehension—tycoons capable of influencing entire industries, even nations.

Only two exceptions stood out...

“Hey! Uncle Yamashita, what a coincidence!”

“Ah, Kyo, you’re here too.”

Yamashita Kazuo, sweating bullets as he found himself surrounded by business sharks, nearly burst into tears upon seeing a familiar face—even if he’d only met Kyo for the first time just last night.

“All right, everyone! Over here, please!”

From the far end of the room, the booming voice of Katagiri Metsudo, president of the Kengan Association, rang out, belying his frail appearance.

The wizened old man wore a wicked smile that could frighten a child.

“Since this deathmatch is being held to challenge my position, it stands to reason that, as the defender, I should be allowed to dictate the rules for drawing lots, wouldn’t you agree? Ahahaha!”

With a flourish, a black-suited attendant wheeled out a machine, hidden beneath a velvet cloth, into the center of the room. The old man dramatically revealed what lay beneath—a slot machine.

Kyo folded his arms, watching with interest.

“This is a specially made slot machine. Each participant will draw a number; the higher the number, the earlier you get to choose your position.”

“I’ll demonstrate.”

The chairman gleefully hammered the buttons, and the machine spat out an impressively high number.

“Well, sorry everyone. Looks like ‘The Fang of Metsudo’ will be claiming the first spot.”

On the large screen, the name “Agito Kanoh” appeared at the very end of the bracket.

Shion Kanadate, now serious, didn’t bother eyeing Kyo’s muscles. Instead, cigarette in mouth, she called out to Metsudo in the center of the room.

“In the end, it’s whatever you say, old man!”

“Exactly!” the old man declared proudly. “It’s just as I say! I, Katagiri Metsudo, have given you all the chance to challenge me. You should be grateful and accept it. There’s no room for refusal!”

“Now then,” the old man’s hand beckoned to Kyo, who stood near the doorway, “let’s have the first man in Kengan history to serve as both gladiator and company representative take his turn—Mr. Hakudo!”

All eyes in the room turned to the youth. Among them, Nogi Hideki’s gaze was complex; he regretted letting business keep him from connecting with this young man before. Yet he never imagined he would encounter him again in such circumstances.

As for Hayami Katsumasa from Tokyo Electric—the very one who had sent an assassin from the Wu clan to test the youth—he acted as if he’d never laid eyes on Kyo before, his attention fixed solely on the chairman.

So Kyo, unconcerned, stepped up to the slot machine. To cross swords with the likes of Hayami was pointless unless he had the upper hand—now was not the time.

Ding, ding, ding...

With a few seemingly casual presses, the screen blurred into a whirl of numbers before settling just below the chairman’s score.

“Well then, pardon me, everyone. I’ll be taking the second spot.”

Amidst a chorus of surprise, “Kyo Hakudo” was nonchalantly placed on the bracket. After all, for him, was there anyone here truly worth his concern?