Chapter 142: Yang, WIN! (Patreon)

In full view of everyone, the small metal button became the focal point of the entire arena.

Tracing a graceful arc through the air, it struck the concrete, letting out a faint, crisp click that was nearly swallowed by the sound of everyone's breathing.

An instant before the button touched down, Ohma's entire body snapped taut.

Blood-energy surged backward through him, mingling with the vital energy coursing through his muscles, hardening his whole body in an instant until it felt like a slab of steel — Niko Style, Adamantine Kata: Indestructible!

But the instant Ohma completed the Diamond Form, Yang vanished from his sight.

No — not vanished.

Ohma quickly realized Yang hadn't disappeared at all — he'd simply moved faster than Ohma's own earlier charge, so fast that most people in the crowd still saw only the afterimage of his coat hanging in the air where he'd been standing.

At that speed, it seemed as though Yang had arrived right in front of Ohma the very instant the button touched the ground. His upper body leaned back, his right foot shattered the concrete beneath it, his hips twisted, and then his spine snapped straight like a bowstring released from its limit.

The strength of his whole body poured up through his spine into his right shoulder, then down through the elbow, activated in a burst of golden flame—

For a moment, Yang seemed to become an axe cleaving through the air, the elbow strike wreathed in golden flame serving as its blade, leaving behind a searing, brilliant trail of gold light for everyone to see.

Had Mai Shiranui been there, she would have recognized it instantly — this was the Hissatsu Shinobi Bachi (lit. "Deadly Ninja Bee") of Shiranui-ryu's Bone-Breaking Fist. As a body-sacrificing technique, its true nature lay in using the Mind-Flame arts to amplify explosive power, then closing the distance to an enemy at terrifying speed.

But compared to Mai Shiranui's version, Yang far exceeded her in both height and weight. When Mai used the move, she launched her entire body into the air, riding the rising Mind-Flame straight at her enemy.

Yang, by contrast, seemed to fly just above the ground — more like a horizontal glide along the floor — as the Golden Flame's terrifying activation poured explosive power into his body, letting him close the shortest possible straight line at arrow-like speed. He'd reshaped the blade-edged sacrificial elbow strike into a downward-smashing elbow blow better suited to his own build and line of attack—

Shiranui-ryu Koppoken: Hissatsu Shinobi Bachi — Tiger Elbow!

Watching the massive figure that had appeared before him in what felt like an instant, blocking out the overhead lights and casting him in deep shadow, Tokita Ohma's eyes went wide with unmistakable shock.

Even though he'd been prepared, even though he'd trusted — or gambled on — Yang's character, certain that Yang would honor the rule of waiting for the button to land, in this moment, looking at Yang who had flashed into place before him, two scorched black tracks like tire marks still smoking on the ground beneath his feet…

"So fast!"

The thought flashed through Ohma's mind, pure instinct.

So fast that his own eyes had nearly failed to track it — he'd only managed to reinforce his Diamond Form stance to its limit by predicting the moment right before the button landed.

If he'd had the chance, Ohma would have preferred to brace his arm across his shoulder to reinforce it against impact. But — there was no time.

Because the instant after Ohma reacted, the elbow strike wreathed in golden flame had already come crashing down.

The axe-like elbow slammed into Ohma's braced shoulder.

Under the crushing impact, with a dull thud, Ohma clearly heard his own shoulder groan under the strain.

So heavy!

His entire left shoulder blade went completely numb in that instant — not even pain, more like a signal cut off entirely, as though the violent impact had made his body instinctively sever the connection to his nerves for self-protection. No matter how frantically his brain fired commands at his arm, it hung there like a kite with a severed string, unresponsive.

The downward force drove Tokita Ohma instinctively to one knee to absorb the shock, but even so, the ground beneath him cracked in dense spiderwebs.

His legs went numb, and for a moment Ohma felt as though he'd become a nail driven straight into brick.

But Tokita Ohma wasn't given the chance to recover — in the very next instant, he sensed a wave of danger bearing down on him.

After the elbow strike, Yang straightened back up, his eyes flashing with cold, arcing light.

His right fist rose high, fingers clenched tight, golden flame streaming from between them. His muscles activated, and the sudden surge of strength compressed the air around his fist so hard it let out a faint crackling pop.

In the instant of the fighting aura eruption, the kinetic force of his hundred-and-forty-kilogram body, mixed with vital energy and blood-energy, surged along his spine, through his shoulder blade, down his arm bone, straight into the point of his fist.

Forbidden Form: Zetsuga.

Ohma saw the trajectory of the punch.

His eyes managed to track it this time, and a powerful sense of crisis surged through him. Even his shoulder, still ringing from the axe elbow, sent an inexplicable wave of heat through him, activating a brain pushed to unleash its full potential in the face of mortal danger, screaming at him — Block it!

Gritting his teeth, Tokita Ohma planted his right hand against the ground and forced himself up from one knee, raising his right arm and bringing his forearm across his chest.

Niko Style, Adamantine Kata: Indestructible!

Then the punch came down like a falling star.

The impact wasn't a dull thud — it was an explosive boom. Golden flame burst open like fireworks throughout the underground garage, and as the swirling fire rolled outward, the arm Ohma had braced in front of him was driven straight into his own chest the instant it met Yang's fist.

That powerful body went as light as a sack of splintered wood struck by a speeding truck.

Both feet left the ground. He spun violently through the air, then crashed down back-first onto the concrete five meters away. Amid the crowd's startled gasps, he bounced back up, slammed down again, and finally rolled to a stop only after tumbling several times into a support pillar.

The sequence of attacks had happened too fast for anyone to fully process, and an eerie silence fell over the whole venue.

Then, a moment later, the crowd erupted.

"Those flames!! What were those flames?!"

"Golden flames! Did everyone see that?! Golden flames!"

"Was that gunpowder? Some kind of magic trick? Did he use some special device?!"

"RNM, this is rigged! Foul! Give me my money back!"

The noise was anything but pleasant. Beside the ring, Katahara Sayaka quickly shook off her own shock and turned to Yang, asking in astonishment, "Contestant Yang, what were those flames just now?"

"Energy conversion," Yang said, snapping his fingers. The golden flame flared up once more as he spoke, his expression perfectly calm. "I just learned it recently. There's no rule against energy conversion in the Kengan Association, right?"

"There isn't," Katahara Sayaka replied. Having some knowledge of "energy conversion" among martial artists, a flicker of surprise showed in her eyes.

But she quickly composed herself and called out, "The winner! Representing Sakurasou Charcoal-Grilled Barbecue — Dahao (Great Consumption), Yang!!!"

Once it was confirmed that the flames Yang had unleashed were a technical enhancement from energy conversion, the mood of the crowd shifted.

Amid cheers for the victor, people began peppering each other with questions about energy conversion.

Energy conversion was considered an advanced concept in the martial arts world, though its applicability was limited — few could master it, and even those who did couldn't always match the strength of the original, lossless technique. And even if the pure energy form ended up stronger than the original, it wasn't guaranteed to fit an existing move.

Now, the martial artists scattered through the crowd who'd noticed the change in Yang could confirm one thing for certain: this new power represented a tremendous leap forward in his strength.

"Energy conversion… so his mastery of qi has already reached that level? Truly… the younger generation is not to be underestimated."

Among the crowd, the unremarkable-looking Kure Erioh leaned on his cane, his eyes swirling with complicated emotion.

Energy conversion wasn't foreign to Kure Erioh — in fact, he'd already mastered it back in his younger days.

But the Kure clan built its foundation on genetic modification, so its inherited and secret arts were all based on developing and utilizing the body — none of it meshed well with the martial path of energy conversion.

On top of that, the converted qi wasn't as effective as the original, so Kure Erioh had only dabbled briefly before abandoning it.

Energy conversion was a path that tested a martial artist's raw talent — some people were simply born suited for it.

Even so, mastering energy conversion in the first place already meant a level of complete command over one's own qi.

And Yang's golden flame in particular was clearly different from ordinary flame at a glance, and it seemed to fit perfectly with his corresponding techniques…

"He's gotten stronger," Kure Horisu, who had come here with his grandfather, remarked with folded arms as he watched the arena.

"While those golden flames were burning, they didn't seem to deal any extra damage directly, but Yang's speed and strength clearly spiked. Looks like some kind of enhancement type?"

"Healing effect," a somewhat irritated voice cut in nearby.

Turning to look, they found none other than Kure Raian, standing with his arms crossed.

Meeting the others' gazes, Kure Raian spoke, clearly annoyed:

"It's the healing effect, no doubt about it… I felt it when I sparred with him before, and I've felt it plenty of times since, eating at his restaurant. The form's different now, but it's definitely the healing effect… Damn it, this guy's gotten stronger again…"

By the end of it, Kure Raian was grinding his teeth in frustration, his brow creased with unmistakable resentment.

Seeing Kure Raian so clearly rattled, Kure Erioh's face broke into a smile.

Compared to his earlier arrogance, Kure Raian still did things his own way, but Kure Erioh could sense a real shift in his mindset.

Then Kure Erioh found himself lost in thought.

Gen the Invincible… truly lived up to his reputation.

Even with his end drawing near, he'd developed this kind of martial energy through his understanding of death itself…

With that thought, Kure Erioh spoke unhurriedly. "No need to rush, Raian. Barring anything unexpected, your rematch with Yang will come soon enough… assuming you can make it as far as standing in front of him."

Hearing this, Kure Raian just snorted coldly. "You don't need to tell me that."

Meanwhile, in the surveillance room overlooking the underground garage, Katahara Metsudo shook his head repeatedly, his face full of amazement at the power and skill Yang had displayed.

"Oh my, oh my. Kids these days grow so fast it's staggering. It's only been a day since I last saw him, and his strength has already exploded to this degree."

So saying, Katahara Metsudo turned his gaze to the man standing behind him. "Kanoh Agito, if it were you, could you take that punch of Yang's head-on?"

At Katahara Metsudo's question, the man standing behind him — clad in a heavy coat, built like a wall, known to others as the Fang of Metsudo, and named Kanoh Agito — fell into a brief silence.

A moment later, Kanoh Agito spoke, his calm voice as steady as ever. "I could take it, but I'd need to absorb the force. Head-on, my forearm's ulna could sustain serious damage… but as combat data accumulates, the cost should keep coming down."

Hearing this, Katahara Metsudo nodded thoughtfully.

In the center of the arena, despite his victory, Yang didn't head back to his rest area. Instead, he lowered his arm and turned to Katahara Sayaka beside him. "When does the next match start?"

At the question, Katahara Sayaka glanced at the schedule. "That's up to you, A-Yang. At the longest, it could wait until this afternoon."

"And the shortest?" Yang asked.

"That would be right now."

Katahara Sayaka said with a smile:

"It mostly comes down to the chairman's privilege. If Ohma had won, he could've rested for up to a week before fighting Sekibayashi Jun."

"But since it's you, A-Yang — you forced your way into this match, so as the challenger, you're required to finish within a day. It's meant as a check on the chairman's privilege… otherwise the chairman's authority would be way too much."

Hearing this, Yang nodded in understanding.

The Kengan Association was, at least in name, an organization formed voluntarily by underground businessmen. They deferred to the chairman's authority and followed certain orders, but if the chairman grew too greedy and tried to turn every member company into his own personal property, the Association would inevitably fracture and collapse from within.

This so-called chairman's privilege happening right now had, in fact, only been implemented after both sides in the match had been consulted and had agreed to it.

Sure enough, Katahara Sayaka added:

"Though this match isn't a normal commercial bout, mind you — it's more about some internal power issues within the Kengan Association. For you, A-Yang… it's probably just a fight, without much money to be made."

"A fight's enough."

Yang nodded, thought for a moment, and said, "Let's start the next round in half an hour."

"Half an hour? You don't want to rest more?" Katahara Sayaka looked a bit surprised.

"No need. I could go right now, honestly," Yang said, pointing at the unconscious Tokita Ohma nearby. "But it'll take a while to wake him up."