Chapter Sixty-Two: The Second Round Begins

On the second day of rest, some fighters continued their training whenever they could find a moment, such as King Ohma Tokita. Because of this, his employer Kazuo Yamashita, together with the relaxed Eiko and a nurse now dressed in a swimsuit—both eliminated from the tournament yesterday—found themselves idle enough to go fishing.

By chance, on their way to the beach, they encountered Garuda, also clad in a blue and white striped bikini, who was searching for Kyoji Shirado. With her was her foreign friend, Elena, the younger sister of the fighter Mokichi Robinson—a fair-skinned, beautiful girl with golden hair and blue eyes.

Naturally, thinking it would be more fun with a larger group, they all headed together toward Kyoji Shirado’s room.

“Oh, you’re looking for Kyoji? Too bad—after working late last night, he disappeared early this morning,” said Saeko, who leaned against the doorframe with a smile, dressed in a thin, loose nightgown, her eyes lazily appraising Garuda in her bikini.

She was drowsy but exuded a seductive allure, her overwhelming presence making Garuda and her friend, both of Kyoji’s age, blush in embarrassment.

Just then, Kazuo Yamashita’s danger sense flared. He laughed awkwardly, preparing to lead the group away, when—

“Ah, I see. Well, we won’t disturb you any further—” he began.

“No, wait,” Saeko interrupted, locking eyes with Garuda, who met her gaze without flinching. Saeko’s lips curved upward. “Kyoji isn’t here, but I’d like to go to the beach too. Am I not welcome?”

“Of course you are!” Kazuo Yamashita’s sense of danger was almost overwhelming, but he could only agree with a nervous laugh.

~~~~~~

“Well then, thank you for your hospitality. Farewell.”

“My apologies for any shortcomings. Take care.”

With a polite smile, the young man bid farewell at the door of the BOSS Burger corporate representative’s house.

Unlike his quiet arrival, now Kyoji Shirado—though his finances had not improved much—had advanced to the top sixteen with astonishing momentum. Even solely as a fighter, he could converse with corporate representatives as an equal.

No company would miss the opportunity to forge a connection with such a powerful fighter whose allegiance within the Kengan Association was still undecided.

So far, Kyoji’s visits had never been met with a closed door.

By now, not only had all the companies been carefully questioned, but even the island’s remote forests and hills had been thoroughly explored by him within a day.

Yet Hayato Hayami seemed to have vanished, as if he had left the island immediately after losing on the first day—there was not a trace.

“Tch.” He had anticipated the caution and cunning of these big capitalists, but the level of information protection still made the young man grit his teeth.

The sunset over the sea reflected in Kyoji’s glasses. Despite a busy day yielding no results, his resolve was unshaken; instead, he felt a bit exhilarated.

“Should I say, the joy of contending with others is boundless?” He smiled. “For a big capitalist to personally come to this island, the Kengan Deathmatch must hold immense significance. Such people never simply accept defeat within the rules! They’re used to getting what they want outside the rules when it’s unattainable within them.”

Kyoji adjusted his glasses with a smile.

“So, no matter how well you hide now, when the moment arrives, your motives will be exposed.”

He turned and walked toward his room on the island.

“I’ll just wait for the show to begin.”

~~~~~~

On the third day of the tournament, as the sun once again shone upon the Deathmatch Arena, the massive stadium—capable of holding tens of thousands—was filled to the brim with excitement.

Kyoji Shirado, accompanied by Saeko whose cheeks were flushed, met several unfamiliar faces in the special observation seats reserved for fighters.

“The first match today is between the Executioner and the Strangling King, right?”

“Yes. Compared to Akoya Seishu, the odds for Kosmos Imai aren’t very high.”

As Kyoji and Saeko approached, they overheard a soft-spoken man with squinted eyes. Seated with him was Naoya Okubo, the ‘King of Combat’ eliminated by Gana Agito two days ago, and a handsome young man with white hair and dark skin, his arm in a cast though he hadn’t fought yet.

The squint-eyed man, Kaneda Sueyoshi, was a practitioner of ancient jujutsu defeated yesterday by Gao Lang, the ‘God of Battle.’ His analytical and predictive abilities bordered on precognition.

It was thanks to these skills that, despite having undergone three major surgeries before he could even remember and relying on medication to function, he managed to contend with the Thai God of Battle despite vastly inferior physical attributes—almost injuring him.

Everyone highly valued his analysis.

Even Kyoji, who had no dealings with him except for watching the match two days prior, respected him.

That spirit—the weak charging against the strong, a genuine desire to become stronger, to defeat the strong, to crave victory—was hard not to move Kyoji, whose grim fate had been foretold for nearly a decade.

After Kyoji and Saeko greeted Kaneda and the others and took their seats, the familiar announcer’s voice erupted.

Fireworks, dry ice fog, and high-tech stage effects combined in a frenzy of lights and sound.

The sensory impact sent the entire arena into a frenzy in an instant.

On the field, two fighters of vastly different builds stood facing each other.

Kaneda Sueyoshi stared at the ring, continuing his analysis to those beside him.

“Akoya Seishu holds the advantage in physique, strength, and agility over Kosmos Imai. Even in mental fortitude and obsession with victory, that killer has the upper hand. This genius fighter’s only chance lies in executing a perfect strangling technique—a single move to defeat his opponent.”

Akoya Seishu’s past was no secret to the fighters and their corporate backers.

When Kaneda uttered the words ‘killer,’ a phantom-like red glimmer flashed in Saeko’s eyes, and she watched Akoya Seishu with keen interest, as if imagining the sensation of a blade slicing through his hardened muscles.

Kyoji noticed the oddity, glanced at Saeko’s hand shaped like a knife, but paid little mind—they had exposed their true natures to each other countless times.

Just as Kaneda predicted, at the start of the match, Kosmos was immediately suppressed.

But a genius is a genius—he quickly seized an opportunity and locked in a highly effective strangling technique on Akoya Seishu.

“Beautiful! Kosmos is going to win!”

Naoya Okubo, a master of all forms of combat, was naturally skilled in strangling techniques. When he saw Kosmos’ move take shape, he declared victory without hesitation.

Once a strangling technique is properly executed, the chance for the opponent to escape is nearly nonexistent, as the act of breaking free would violate the body’s structure.

Kaneda nodded, eyes narrowed. As a practitioner of ancient jujutsu, he knew the power of strangles and fully endorsed Okubo’s judgment.

Yet, watching Kosmos and Akoya Seishu entwined like two pythons in the ring, an uneasy feeling born from his predictive ability enveloped him.

Meanwhile, Kyoji Shirado’s gaze was fixed on the arena, a biological AI in his retina furiously modeling the fighters’ movements.

He frowned and murmured, “No, something’s wrong.”

Within the model, the Executioner’s movements suddenly shifted—as if he were a puppet on strings.