Chapter Sixty: The Martial God Versus the Beautiful Beast, Part Two

“‘Chaotic Eyes,’ a technique developed by ancient karate practitioners to cope with harsh combat conditions and surprise attacks, employing irregular movements of the eyeballs to expand the field of vision and eliminate blind spots!”
Wu Huili, standing in the VIP suite belonging to Katahara Metsudo, was explaining to his old friend beside him.
Leaning on his cane, Katahara Metsudo stroked his beard, visibly delighted.
“Oh ho ho! Who would have thought, at this age, I could still witness my old friend in such vigorous action. Truly enviable.”
“It’s merely a skill from a discipline of hard labor,” the patriarch of the Wu clan watched the arena without joy or sorrow. “The only question now is—how much longer can he maintain it?”
On the arena—
“Your eyes are bloodshot, turning red. I suppose you won’t last much longer,” Kiryu Setsuna unobtrusively flexed the hand that had just been twisted into a mess.
But the joint destruction technique of the Takemoto-ryu practical boxing could not be undone in such a short time.
“Oh, these eyes—at my age, they probably only have ten minutes of use left,” the old man seemed utterly unaffected by discomfort or pain, and eagerly divulged his own information.
“So, are you planning to stall for time? Perhaps in ten minutes you’ll be free to carve me up as you wish.”
Blood streamed relentlessly from his arm, yet the old man’s tone brimmed with wicked amusement.
“No…” Kiryu Setsuna’s voice and expression suddenly darkened, “For those who desecrate this body, soon to be offered to the gods, divine punishment waits for no one!”
He raised his face again, and upon Kiryu Setsuna’s handsome features remained only a sharp, clown-like smile!
Uncontrollable tears flowed from his eyes, and his waist-length hair danced wildly behind him like a living creature…
“Mirror! It’s that day!” Saeko recalled the day of the fighter selection, the fleeting state Kiryu Setsuna entered before being knocked down by Hakudo Kage.
“Ah, that’s the one.” The young man adjusted his glasses with interest. “Last time, weakened, I didn’t dare handle it, so I finished him instantly. I regretted not seeing the full extent of this technique.”
“Now, let Master see it for his disciple.”
On the arena, the long-haired beauty radiated a bizarre aura, twisting his body as if preparing for a dance.
At his feet, fine sand was accumulating into a circular mound, driven by a spiraling force.
“Oh my! He can use this move with his feet too?” The robust old man playfully swung his shattered arm, “What a spectacle for an old man!”
But Kiryu Setsuna, in this state, seemed to have lost all interest in conversation.
“Whoosh—”
A cloud of sand erupted suddenly, and the long-haired beauty vanished as if teleporting.
Even to the audience, he moved so fast he became a mere afterimage!
Apparently still wary of ‘Chaotic Eyes,’ he didn’t rush straight for Takemoto Hisan’s surroundings this time.
Instead, he moved unpredictably in erratic patterns.
“What is Kiryu doing?” came the voice of Katahara Sayaka from the commentary booth. “Is he planning to rely on his youthful strength to wear down Takemoto?”

“No! That’s not it!” Jerry Tyson’s commentary followed, “After using that spiraling technique with his feet, his speed has clearly increased. Now he’s testing whether Takemoto can keep up with him!”
“And now, we can see that Takemoto’s reaction to Kiryu’s shifting movements is already slightly delayed!”
“Whoosh—”
As they spoke, Kiryu Setsuna seized upon that ‘slight delay’ and charged straight at the side of the robust old man, who hadn’t turned in time.
Then—Fox Shadow Style: Rakshasa Palm!
His howling palm spiraled toward Takemoto Hisan’s back!
The old man had just started to lift his foot, his center of gravity yet to shift!
He couldn’t move at all!
“Just like this… die!”
After activating ‘Twin Tigers Style: Demonbane,’ his mind was overwhelmed by chaotic thoughts, the image of Ohma flashing repeatedly.
Tears of emotion streaming down, Kiryu Setsuna, with a sacred mindset as if offering up a sacrifice to the gods, prepared to drive his palm into the old man’s back!
But suddenly, darkness engulfed his vision!
Takemoto Hisan’s backward elbow struck right at his head!
The sudden movement of the arm caused the Rakshasa Palm, originally aimed for the back, to slip under the armpit, tearing only a wide sleeve of the kimono.
“How? How can he keep up?”
No time to ponder—the elbow was about to crash into his face, but the heightened sense of time granted by ‘Demonbane’ allowed Kiryu Setsuna to respond in the nick of time.
Within an instant, externally fleeting yet internally ample, he stabilized his balance, thrown off by the missed strike.
The spiraling force gathered in his foot, ready to pull away immediately.
But then—
“Smack—”
“My foot… is pinned?!”
He looked up to see Takemoto Hisan’s exuberant, twisted smile.
He tried to leverage the temporal advantage of ‘Demonbane’ to break free and crush the old man’s foot holding him down.
But Takemoto’s sudden knee thrust at his groin forced him to shift his center of gravity defensively, preventing him from dealing with his pinned foot.
When he managed to fend off the knee, a hand chop aimed for his neck forced him to bend back to avoid it.
…After a series of blows—

Either his balance was thrown off, or he was forced to defend.
Within the perception of ‘Demonbane,’ where a second feels like ten, he couldn’t spare a moment to free his pinned foot!
Even the necessary buildup for Rakshasa Palm was restricted!
He was forced to exchange blows with the old man right where he stood!
And the old man, in the midst of the exchange, grew increasingly relaxed, even ceased ‘Chaotic Eyes,’ and started to speak!
“Hmm—so it really is some technique that speeds up your sense of time?” The old man’s smile now seemed almost sinister. “Youngsters these days have no regard for their bodies.”
“You… how… can you keep up?”
In the ‘Demonbane’ state, how could he possibly be forced onto the defensive in exchanges?
Kiryu Setsuna couldn’t understand.
His brain, straining to maintain temporal perception, was working at full capacity.
As time passed, not only was sweat pouring from his head, but now even steam began to rise!
It was he, the young man, who was being depleted.
“Bang bang bang!”
Takemoto Hisan deftly neutralized the attacks with one hand and one foot, and even interrupted Kiryu Setsuna’s attempts to break free.
“Keep up? Young man, I don’t need to keep up at all.” The old man grinned wickedly.
“My experience with opponents who alter their sense of time, and this series of attacks that leave you unable to react, was all planned the moment I pinned your foot!”
“Even your sudden acceleration along blind spots was deduced from the blood-soaked sand—do you really think flinging around your injuries is clever?”
“Do you imagine decades of real combat experience are meaningless?”
As Takemoto Hisan’s exultant shouts grew louder,
Even Kiryu Setsuna, with his fanatical mindset, felt a chill.
This intensity of exchange… all calculated in an instant?
Is such a feat possible relying only on ‘experience’?
In the audience—
Hakudo Kage couldn’t help but cover his forehead.
“Takemoto Style: Strike the Heart… does it have this kind of application?”