Chapter 203: Naivety
Shink!
Lihito's five fingers swept through the air, leaving deep gashes in the concrete
wall behind him. "So, where do you want to be sliced first? Ohma!"
Ohma twisted his neck, looking genuinely troubled. "This is bad..."
That low murmur caused the corners of Lihito's mouth to twitch upward in a
smirk.
But a second later, Ohma burst into laughter, slapping his thigh. "It's bad!
You're showing your hand so openly that I'll feel guilty for sending you to
the hospital."
"...Hah?!" Lihito's eyes bugged out, bloodshot with rage. "You've got a big
mouth, kid!"
Ohma merely arched an eyebrow. "I've already figured out the counter."
Lihito froze.
Ohma began to bounce on his feet again. "To be honest, the moment I saw that
move, I knew exactly how to deal with it. I kept waiting to see if you had any
other tricks up your sleeve, but it seems this is all you've got. Sigh..."
Ohma stepped toward Lihito. "What a total disappointment!"
Before the sentence finished, Ohma was already in Lihito's face. The distance
between them was less than the length of a fist—they were practically
nose-to-nose.
Enraged, Lihito swung his right hand, aiming to tear open Ohma's chest.
Zip!
But the instant before the claws could connect, Ohma raised his left hand. His
five fingers met Lihito's five fingers directly. Both men exerted extreme force,
veins bulging on their hands and forearms, but they remained locked in a
stalemate, palms pressed together mid-air.
"Your fingertip strength is certainly impressive," Ohma explained calmly in a
low voice. "If you just wanted to tear something apart, that grip would be
enough. But to actually slice through a target, you need 'acceleration
distance'—the space to build momentum."
"Conversely, if I seal that distance... your fingers are no longer a threat."
"..."
Lihito bared his teeth in a predatory grin. "Don't forget I have a left hand!"
Whoosh!
His left hand prepared to swing, but in the next heartbeat, it was suppressed.
Lihito looked down to see his wrist pinned by Ohma's hand-sword, unable to rise.
"Pressing down on the back of the hand like this is also quite effective. The
key is simply to avoid touching your fingertips." Ohma looked up, his eyes
boring into Lihito's. "So, when your 'Superhuman' strength is neutralized...
what are you going to do, pal?"
"..."
Lihito's fury was reaching a boiling point.
This was different from facing Ren Shiroki—where he had been left in a daze by
being one-shotted twice. Facing Ohma Tokita, seeing his pride and joy, his
Superhuman fingertip strength, systematically dismantled... that was a far more
bitter pill to swallow!
With their hands still locked, Lihito ground his teeth. "So it's a test of raw
strength then? Do you even understand the concept of a weight class?!"
Ohma remained perfectly composed, fully confident that he had already won this
battle.
But just as the two were about to escalate the struggle, a sudden anomaly
occurred—
Screeeak...
the sound of a rusty wheel scraping against pavement echoed at the mouth of the
alley.
"...Hm?"
Ohma and Lihito both turned their heads. At the entrance of the alley, they saw
Ren Shiroki and Kazuo Yamashita—the two who had been watching for quite some
time.
But the source of the noise was a janitor's utility cart.
A slender middle-aged man in a uniform and a matching cap was pushing the cart,
slowly walking into the alley and toward the parking lot where the fight was
happening.
...Who is this?
Ohma and Lihito blinked, unable to comprehend the situation. Ren and Kazuo were
equally confused. They hadn't expected the janitor, who should have just passed
by, to suddenly pivot and walk into the middle of a fight as if no one else was
there.
Clack, clack, clack...
The janitor stopped directly in front of Ohma and Lihito. Beneath the brim of
his cap, the corners of his mouth curled into a slight smirk, pulling at his
somewhat loose skin.
"Kengan Annihilation Street Brawl... is it?"
The man let out a faint sigh. "Since it carries the name 'Annihilation,' it
should be a place of extreme peril. How could it have devolved into a mere
wrestling match?"
"You arena fighters... you are naive beyond belief."
"..."
These cryptic words left Ohma and Lihito stunned. Ren's mind was racing, trying
to place the middle-aged man's identity, his reactions slightly slowed by his
injuries.
Consequently, the first person to notice the man's movement was someone else—
Kazuo Yamashita!
Perhaps Heaven had taken pity on his mundane life, for Kazuo had possessed
incredible dynamic vision—the "Fist Eye"—since childhood. While it usually
served no practical purpose, it occasionally allowed him to notice "details"
others missed.
Like right now!
Kazuo felt a wave of inexplicable wrongness emanating from this "Middle-Aged
Janitor." It was a bone-chilling cold that made his entire body shudder!
This should have had nothing to do with him; he was just a failure of a
salaryman. But instinctively, he couldn't help himself. Even though he knew this
janitor—or anyone else here—could kill him as easily as stepping on a bug, he
shouted out.
"Watch out, you two!"
That roar snapped Ohma Tokita back to reality. He focused on the middle-aged man
and immediately felt a sense of malice. A sinister chill crept over him, as if
he were being stared down by a thousand venomous snakes.
"—This guy?!"
Ohma was about to speak, but the janitor beat him to it.
"Didn't you want to trade blows? Then just strike. Like this!!"
Zip!
The man suddenly twisted his waist, aiming at Ohma as he gave the janitor cart a
shove.
To Ohma, who had grown up in the lawless district of The Inside, a "sneak
attack" like this was nothing new. Is he going to ram me? Flip it over? Pull a
weapon out?
Ohma focused entirely on the cart, but what happened next defied all logic.
Squeak!
The cart rolled forward slowly, sliding toward Ohma with almost no momentum.
He just... pushed it?
Ohma froze for a split second, his attention glued to the harmless cart. In that
instant, the janitor's hand shot out in a palm-strike, his palm-root slamming
into Ohma's jaw.
BANG!
The impact was devastating. This man—who stood less than 160cm tall—had
generated enough force from the floor to launch the 182cm Ohma Tokita off his
feet!
Crash!
Ohma hit the ground on his back, his lip split by his own teeth, blood spraying
in a crimson arc. As he tried to roll and scramble up, the man pursued him with
a follow-up kick, a heavy boot slamming into Ohma's face and sending him
tumbling sideways.
Ohma's pupils quivered, his nose and mouth bleeding non-stop. He swung a
desperate, blind punch toward his back, but it hit nothing but air. The janitor
had already sidestepped, circling behind Ohma and delivering a precise
hand-sword strike to the back of his neck.
Ohma slumped into unconsciousness.
"Hmph. He's a successor of the Niko Style, but he's still green. This 'Niko
Style' has no charm whatsoever. I'll play with you later, boy."
The middle-aged man shook out his hand and turned to look at Ren Shiroki in the
distance, studying his bandaged body.
"As for you... Ren Shiroki. I wasn't looking for you today, but I don't suppose
you'll mind if I take advantage of your injuries to disturb your peace..."
The man took off his cap, revealing his true face. He had drooping eyes, short
oily hair, and a high bridge to his nose. His expression was cynical and dark,
appearing even more sinister under the flickering streetlights.
He was one of the Five Convicts—The Poison Hand, Yanagi Ryuko!
The man who had broken through a wall of explosion-proof glass with his bare
hands in a Kyoto underground prison, murdered multiple guards, and escaped to
Tokyo to seek defeat.
"I assume you won't mind."
Yanagi walked forward, intending to strike the injured Ren, but another figure
stepped into his path.
It was Lihito!
He was cracking his knuckles, the blood on his face not yet dry. His bloodshot
eyes were fixed on Yanagi, his expression one of pure, unbridled fury.
"Hey, Pops. You just jumped into a fight and blindsided a guy. Don't you know
the rules of a street brawl?"
"..."
Yanagi looked at Lihito, then glanced at the concrete wall Lihito had shredded
with his fingers. He let out a weary sigh.
"With fingertip strength like that, you must be a specialist in the art of
slaughter."
Yanagi turned back to his cart and pulled out two sickles connected by a long,
heavy chain.
The Kusarigama!
Yanagi swung the lethal weapon casually, looking at Lihito with a serene, cold
smile. "So... don't go calling me 'cowardly' for this..."
(End of Chapter)
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