Chapter 207: Let's Just Pretend That Didn't Happen
Kazuo Yamashita.
Male, 56 years old. Height: 167 cm. Weight: 64 kg.
A serious, honest man with a family to support. An ordinary employee in the
Second Sales Department of Nogi Group Publishing for thirty-four years. In other
words—he was the kind of common civilian you could find anywhere in society.
But tonight, this "ordinary person" felt as if he were walking through a waking
dream from which he couldn't escape.
"..."
What had he just witnessed? A brawl? A slaughter? A chaotic war in the shadows?
Whatever it was, when the man with the tied hair—Retsu Kaioh—asked for his help
to get the wounded to the hospital, Kazuo had agreed without a second thought.
There was no other reason than this: standing before these four men, Kazuo
Yamashita felt a profound, undeniable sense of "Supreme Respect" as a fellow
man.
Retsu Kaioh carried the unconscious Ohma Tokita on his back while letting Ren
Shiroki lean on his shoulder for support. Kazuo Yamashita was tasked with
helping the bloodied Lihito limp along.
The group of five returned to the hospital, giving the people in the VIP ward
quite a shock. Why had Ren Shiroki gone out for a stroll only to return with
even more severe injuries? And why had he brought back a mangled Lihito, a
comatose youth with seaweed hair, and... some random salaryman in a cheap suit?
"..."
While the others were bewildered, the emergency staff rushed in to provide
immediate first aid. Retsu nodded his thanks before stepping into the hall to
call Dr. Hanafusa, asking the "Freak Doctor" to pull an emergency night shift
for further treatment.
Inside the ward, Lihito lay on a bed, his blood-soaked clothes pulled back as a
nurse cleaned the deep puncture wound in his side. Even with his freakish
durability, the sheer amount of blood he had lost left his face as white as a
sheet. His left eye, struck by the stone, was swollen shut.
"Dammit, that hurts—!!"
Lihito gritted his teeth, trying to distract himself from the pain. He looked
around and spotted some familiar faces. "Yo! Rama-sama, Gaolang-san... and
Fusui-chan! Fancy meeting you guys here...!"
"..."
Though addressing the King of Thailand so casually was technically a grave
insult, Gaolang decided to grant Lihito a pass this once, given his condition.
Besides, Gaolang's sharp eyes noticed that Lihito's expression was
uncharacteristically low. He looked troubled, masking it with his usual bravado.
Is it because of the defeat?
Gaolang arched an eyebrow, his "dead-fish eyes" shifting toward Ren Shiroki.
"So. What exactly happened out there?"
"I went for a walk, found Lihito in a middle of a fight, and then..."
Ren lay face-down on his bed as a doctor applied pressure to his back. He began
to recount the evening's events in detail.
In the hallway...
Kazuo Yamashita watched through the glass of the door, peering curiously at the
gathering inside. So many legends in one room...
While he was lost in thought, Retsu Kaioh finished his call and walked over to
thank him.
"I have caused you much trouble," Retsu said, extending a hand to the salaryman.
"As for your clothes being ruined by blood, please send the dry-cleaning bill to
the Shinshinkai Headquarters. I shall personally see to the compensation."
"Ah, no, it's fine..." Kazuo stuttered, looking overwhelmed by the martial
artist's intensity.
Looking into Retsu's sincere eyes, Kazuo gathered his courage and asked,
"Please... tell me your name!"
Retsu gave a small, respectful smile. "Retsu Kaioh. My birth name is Retsu
Xiaozhou."
Kazuo swallowed hard. Retsu Kaioh, Lihito, Ohma Tokita, and that Ren person...
Just hearing their names made him feel the weight of their strength. He was
sweating from the pressure. Just as he turned to leave, Retsu's voice followed
him softly.
"And you, sir? How should I address you?"
Kazuo froze, his hands trembling. But meeting Retsu's steady gaze, he squared
his shoulders. "I am... Kazuo Yamashita!"
"My thanks, Yamashita-san." Retsu nodded and stepped back into the room to tend
to the patients.
"..."
Kazuo stood there for a moment. Suddenly, a strange sense of lightness washed
over him. The blood on his suit, the exhaustion of his job, the dread of
tomorrow—none of it seemed so crushing anymore.
What was that? Kazuo wondered as he walked away. Those people... they're all so
incredible!
But surely... we won't meet again, right? Probably.
Dr. Hanafusa arrived and spent the night happily stitching people back together,
even managing to trick Lihito into signing a "Body Donation Consent Form" while
he was delirious from blood loss.
By the next morning, the VIP ward was bustling.
The wounded: Ren Shiroki, Lihito, Gaolang Wongsawat, Katsumi Orochi, and Ohma
Tokita. The caretakers: Fusui Kure, Retsu Kaioh, Rama XIII, and Arisa Sakurai,
who had rushed over as soon as she heard.
Eight of them were chatting and exchanging notes. Only Ohma Tokita remained dead
to the world, still trapped in a coma.
"..."
Lihito had woken up and was back to his loud self, though the shadow of gloom
still lingered in his eyes.
"Pouting won't help you evolve," Gaolang said, looking at Lihito. "Tell me, what
was your assessment of Yanagi Ryuko's techniques?"
Lihito thought about it seriously. "I mean, I can climb walls pretty easily, but
that guy's move was just weird! He didn't even grip the wall. He just slapped
his hand against it and it... stuck!"
"Like this..." Lihito demonstrated by slapping his palm against his own thigh.
SLAP!
The sharp, crisp sound echoed through the room. It was nearly identical to the
sound of Yanagi's Way of the Void palm hitting a face.
In his coma, Ohma Tokita's ears twitched at the sound.
...Slap!
In a daze, Ohma felt as if he had been hit by that vacuum palm all over again.
He snapped his eyes open, staring at the hospital ceiling. But his body was
paralyzed; he was trapped in a state of "sleep paralysis," unable to move or
make a sound.
"..."
In the corners of his vision, Yanagi's sinister face flickered. Then, a
familiar, gravelly whisper echoed in his mind.
"Ohma... as you are now, you can't win. You'll only be killed by him, you
know~!"
――?!
Ohma's pupils quivered, his eyes turning bloodshot as he looked toward the side
of his bed. There, a long-haired man sat in a chair, looking down at him with a
faint, knowing smile. It was his master—the man who taught him the Niko Style,
the man who was supposed to be dead.
Niko Tokita.
"Incredible, isn't it? Of course, I'm just a hallucination born of your own
mind. The others can't see me."
Niko stood up and began to pace the ward. He walked past Ren, Katsumi, Gaolang,
and Retsu, before stopping back near the phantom of Yanagi. He pointed to them
one by one.
"As you are now, you can't beat any of them. Because you haven't returned to
your true self."
"But... once you go back to being 'that' person, only true 'Death' awaits you."
"Do you really want to shed your shackles, Ohma? Beyond them... there might be
nothing but an endless Hell."
"..."
His master's words hammered at Ohma's mind. Combined with the trauma of the
vacuum palm, Ohma's body began to vibrate violently. The hospital bed groaned
and creaked under the tension.
"Stop talking... stop talking that cryptic bullshit...!"
Ohma took a sharp, ragged breath and bolted upright in bed. He let out a primal
roar: "GET LOST, NIKO!!"
The shout made everyone in the room jump.
"Whoa!" Fusui Kure nudged Ren. "Look! He's really hyper!"
Ren nodded. "He is."
Fusui added, "The fact that he's shouting at thin air means his imagination is
off the charts. That's a high-level fighter trait."
Ren: "...Agreed."
The two of them continued to trade dry commentary as Ohma, fueled by the
humiliation of his defeat and the ghost of his master, began to spiral. His
emotions were red-lining. He scrambled off the bed, threw a shirt over his
shoulders, and prepared to storm out to find Yanagi for a rematch.
"..."
Katsumi Orochi stepped into his path with a smile. "Hey, kid. Calm down. My
friend is about to make lunch. Eat first, then go."
Ohma knew it was a kind gesture, but a surge of raw, uncontrollable battle
intent suddenly flooded his heart. He glared at Katsumi, his eyes wild. "You
want to go too?!"
"Uh..." Katsumi arched an eyebrow, scratching his head. "Is that a challenge?
You look a bit... messy in the head right now, pal."
As Katsumi was trying to figure out how to settle him down, a blur of motion
crossed the room.
Thwack.
A light, precise hand-sword strike landed perfectly on the back of Ohma's neck.
With a heavy THUD, the newly awakened Ohma collapsed back into unconsciousness.
A familiar, gravelly voice echoed from the doorway.
"Oho! This kid's battle aura was terrifying! Scared me half to death. Is this a
dojo-challenger who followed us all the way to the hospital?"
Doppo Orochi stuck his head into the room. He retracted his hand, while his
other hand carried a bag of get-well gifts. His lone eye scanned the room as he
laughed. "So! Who was the kid challenging? Sorry for cutting in line, boys!"
"..."
Katsumi paused, then whispered, "Pops... that kid was one of the wounded from
the ambush. He was just a little... emotional."
Doppo: "..." Doppo: "..." Doppo: "..."
He slowly picked up the unconscious Ohma, tucked him gently back into bed,
pulled the covers up to his chin, and turned to the room with a finger over his
lips. His face was slightly flushed.
"Everyone... let's just forget that happened. Just pretend it never happened~!"
When Ohma woke up again, it was lunchtime. He didn't quite remember why he had
wanted to challenge "the powerhouse in front of him," nor did he understand how
he had blacked out again. Maybe his injuries were worse than he thought?
But regardless, the medicinal meal prepared by Retsu Kaioh was incredible, and
he could feel his strength returning with every bite.
Ohma finished his meal, thanked the group, and left the hospital in silence.
As he rounded the corner outside the main gate, a middle-aged man with
slicked-back hair called out to him. Beside him was a beautiful female secretary
and a familiar-looking salaryman.
The salaryman was sweating buckets, looking like he didn't understand why he was
there. Ohma recognized him from the night before—Kazuo Yamashita.
"A pleasure to meet you, Ohma Tokita," the leading man said, extending a hand.
"I am the Chairman of the Nogi Group—Hideki Nogi. These are my associates, Kaede
Akiyama and Kazuo Yamashita."
"Tell me... have you ever heard of the Kengan Matches?"
"..."
The path of destiny known as The Ashura began to stretch forward into the dark.
Back in the hospital ward...
Katsumi Orochi sat cross-legged on his bed, looking at his father. "Alright,
Pops. I know that look. Stop stalling. What's the news?"
"You're getting better at reading people, Katsumi!" Doppo laughed boisterously.
"I found where Dorian is holed up."
Ren Shiroki, sensing the weight of the statement, asked, "And?"
Doppo's grin turned predatory. "He wasn't there. So... I left him a formal
letter of challenge."
(End of Chapter)
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