Chapter Six: The Brawl Comes to an End

The thugs who had swarmed in for the attack weren’t renowned fighters, but hailing from the Far Mountain Syndicate, each was a seasoned brawler in the ruthless world of street combat. The instant they sensed Byakudo Kyo’s brief lapse in focus, three blades were already stabbing toward his heart, liver, and lower back. Below the waist, an iron baseball bat was swinging for his shinbone.

In the realm of unembellished street fighting, the outcome was already beyond doubt. Unless one was afflicted with some superhuman syndrome boasting muscle density fifty-two times that of an ordinary man, being trapped in the center by four enemies left no room to dodge or counterattack. The next scene would mirror the tragic finales of gangster films: the once-invincible protagonist, surrounded by insignificant goons, stabbed in a frenzy until only a lifeless corpse remained, eyes wide open in disbelief. Not far off, Akira Far Mountain, like a villain from those very films, wore a look of cruel satisfaction.

Yet reality, at times, is far stranger than cinema.

A series of sharp, slicing sounds cut through the air as minute yet undeniable supernatural energy flowed through tendons and veins. Four nearly simultaneous cracks echoed through the crowd. The thugs, who had formed a deadly circle, seemed to freeze in place, as if someone had pressed pause. Then, as though their bones had been plucked from their bodies, they collapsed in a heap, twitching helplessly on the ground.

Standing tall amidst the heap of bodies was Byakudo Kyo, fists just withdrawn.

What happens when your agility surpasses the average human by nearly sevenfold? This was his first time using inner energy without reservation, and Byakudo Kyo found it felt almost like a game of Duelist King.

My turn! My turn! And still my turn!

“How is this possible?!”

“In a single instant... he shattered the throat bones of four men with the tip of his finger?”

“Go! Don’t give him space to maneuver!”

Seeing the thugs summon what little courage they had left and charge him, Byakudo Kyo laughed freely. Subtle inner energy coursed within him. His extraordinary agility made him feel as light as a feather—barely touching the ground was enough to send him gliding far away.

Like a phantom, he covered the seven or eight meters in a flash, too fast for anyone to react. He suddenly appeared at the side of one assailant—so swift that he could clearly see the terror and bewilderment in the man’s eyes.

But this thug, true to his underworld experience, managed to force a grin after a moment’s shock and lunged to grapple Byakudo Kyo. In a street brawl, once you’re grabbed, it’s usually game over.

Yet contradicting the thug’s experience, the boy’s face betrayed a faintly mocking smile, even as he was about to be seized.

“Wha—crack!”

Before he could react, the youth’s hand, despite having almost no room to gather force, unleashed a blow stronger than ninety percent of boxers could muster with a full-bodied punch, snapping his neck instantly.

Lying paralyzed on the ground, this thug—one of the few to have faced Byakudo Kyo head-on—finally understood the nature of his opponent.

“For Jeet Kune Do to reach this level... it’s just... unfathomable...”

He was like a weightless specter.

Even a dagger thrust, nearly silent, would be avoided with the ease of a breeze. Yet when he struck, his fists flashed faster than the eye could follow, crushing throats and splintering bones.

By the time the tenth man fell, the roles of hunter and hunted had reversed. Fear spread like a contagion among the thugs. Armed to the teeth and outnumbering their target, they now felt as though they were the ones surrounded.

Worse still, Byakudo Kyo’s efficiency only increased as his opponents dwindled in number.

This was thanks to his AI assistant, which had mapped out his combat route before the fight began. Guided by algorithmic precision, his movements had a cold, assembly-line efficiency—a mechanical slaughter.

At last, when the thirty-second man’s throat was crushed and he collapsed to the ground, twitching like a beached fish, only two people remained standing in the alley.

With a lazy flick of his toe, Byakudo Kyo sent a knife spinning through the air to pin itself into the wall.

Akira Far Mountain froze, the blade grazing his close-cropped hair. He had been ready to intervene himself when he saw his men falter, but as Byakudo Kyo unleashed his full power, he decided to withdraw. Yet the fight ended so quickly that, with just a moment’s hesitation, he found himself trapped, unable to escape.

“Let’s end it here, shall we? If you stop now, ‘Red Sand’ will honor your contract,” Akira Far Mountain forced himself to sound composed.

In the center of the alley, the black-haired youth began to approach, his tone oddly casual.

“You never even wondered, did you, Akira Far Mountain?”

“What are you getting at?” The man’s voice was fierce, but it was all bravado.

Byakudo Kyo spoke leisurely, stepping over the writhing bodies of fallen thugs.

“Why, eight years ago, did your father, Hideki Far Mountain, find me—a child he’d only met once—so interesting that he smoothed over obstacles in my martial arts training?”

One step.

“Why, seven years ago, did he solemnly ask me in front of all the Far Mountain Syndicate’s executives if I wanted to become his adopted son?”

Two steps.

“Why, six years ago, when I refused him, did he immediately withdraw his support and even spread word in Fukushima Prefecture that no one should teach me?”

Three steps.

“And why, just a year ago, did he instead invite me, with utmost formality, into the tea room you’ve never entered, to sign a contract and press a bloody handprint?”

At last, the black-haired youth stood before Akira Far Mountain.

His gaze, devoid of the slightest warmth, locked with the other’s until Akira’s own eyes darted away, his lips quivering and knees buckling as he slumped against the wall.

“And why is it that even the most insignificant insects and dying old men know when to run, but you... still do not understand?”

Smiling, the youth lightly patted his adversary’s shoulder, as if straightening his clothes, cast a careless glance into the depths of the alley, then turned and walked away.

“Damn you! What nonsense are you spouting!” Only when Byakudo Kyo’s figure had vanished did Akira snap out of his daze and gasp for breath. He clenched his teeth—no matter what, at least he’d survived, and there would be time to settle accounts later.

“Believe whatever you want, you’re just a kid anyway... ugh!”

A sudden pain shot through his chest. A sliver of energy, transcending the ordinary, silently detonated in his heart. He collapsed with a crash, blood streaming from every orifice—the only vivid red to appear in the entire brawl.

~~~~~~

“Whew—”

A long, steady breath echoed through the shadowy alley, a dot of flame flickering in time with it.

“I never thought a whim to watch a low-level match would bring me face-to-face with such a formidable character. Even though Jeet Kune Do is famed for ending fights quickly, to deal with thirty-two armed opponents in under ninety seconds...”

With the tap of leather shoes on concrete, a man with silver-gray hair, impeccably dressed in a suit and vest, pressed his lips together and stepped into the glow of a streetlamp.

This was none other than Eiji Nogi, the big-time capitalist often seen on Japanese television and president of the Nogi Group. His hand, which held a lit cigar, trembled ever so slightly.

After taking a deep drag to steady himself, he gestured toward the mass of writhing thugs before him and said to his companion,

“He shattered every one of their throat bones without spilling a drop of blood—what a perverse sense of humor. Kaede, call them an ambulance. A few might survive.”

Behind him, Kaede Akiyama—a striking, curvaceous blonde in office attire and glasses—looked surprised.

“Huh?! President, are we cleaning up after him?”

For the Nogi Group, this was a trivial matter, but to tidy up someone else’s mess for no reason...

“Just do it. Consider it the price of admission for the ‘performance’ we just witnessed—and a handshake coupon for our next meeting. More than worth it.”

“President, are you planning to recruit him as a company fighter?”

Eiji Nogi did not answer.

“Go ahead. Before long, we’ll be in desperate need of fighters.”

“...Yes, I understand.”