Chapter 50: Helicopters, Internal Bleeding, and Surprise Martial-Arts Airlines
Reiji Takamura—better known by his extremely modest street name Zeus—sat in the passenger seat of a luxury car sleek enough to make most executives question their financial decisions.
He didn't say a word.
Which was weird, because normally he would be talking about some legendary martial arts principle or at least looking smug enough to count as a conversation by itself. But today, Reiji was brooding.
Not the dark and mysterious martial artist kind of brooding.
More like the I just crushed my childhood friend and another idiot who refused to surrender, and now I feel strangely terrible about winning kind.
The leather seat creaked softly as he shifted.
Behind him, members of Olympus followed in a convoy of vehicles, because apparently nothing said teenage martial-arts organization quite like travelling as though somebody had declared a small war.
And no, Reiji wasn't some spoiled billionaire heir.
Everything he possessed, every advantage he had earned, had come through training, fights, connections, and years of pushing himself harder than most sane people ever would.
His master, Shūzen Kurogiri, would probably approve.
Or maybe he would just give Reiji that unsettlingly peaceful smile and say something cryptic like:
"Only those who possess strength may truly question what strength means."
Yeah.
Super helpful.
But the truth was, despite the soft leather beneath him, the city lights sliding across the windows, and the undeniable fact that he looked absurdly good in white—
Reiji didn't feel like a winner.
Because he had won.
Technically.
He had beaten Haruki.
And Ren.
Haruki, the apologetic childhood friend who had somehow rediscovered his courage at the worst possible moment.
And Ren, the unpredictable storm who had crashed into the local martial-arts world and started rearranging everything around him.
Reiji clenched one gloved fist.
"Five days…" he muttered.
The driver glanced toward him.
"Sir?"
"Nothing. Eyes on the road."
Five days at Ryūseikan.
That was all.
Five days under proper martial-arts masters, and Ren had already dodged, blocked, redirected, and traded blows with him.
Zeus.
The man who had crushed entire gangs and challenged dojos for years.
Sure, Ren had other experience. That much was obvious from the way he moved. Whatever his mysterious past actually was, he hadn't learned to fight yesterday.
But his progress in Earth martial arts was still ridiculous.
Then there was Fivefold Ascension.
Reiji's expression tightened.
The fight had ended in his favor.
Haruki had been beaten.
Ren had taken one strike too many and finally gone down.
But somehow, it hadn't felt satisfying.
Because Ren hadn't really lost.
Not where it mattered.
Not in conviction.
Every time Reiji talked about victory and power, Ren had looked at him as though Reiji were the one failing to understand something obvious.
And somehow that hurt more than any baton strike.
Reiji looked through the window.
His own reflection stared back.
Cold eyes.
Calm expression.
Definitely not screaming internally.
"I'm not selfish," he whispered.
The car remained painfully quiet.
His words came back sounding suspiciously like a lie.
Ren had accused him of wanting control.
Of using the Black Heaven Society as justification for building a kingdom of his own.
Of wanting to defeat monsters more than he wanted to protect anyone from them.
Reiji had denied it.
Of course he had.
But Ren's words had gotten underneath his skin anyway.
Worse, Haruki had apologized.
After everything Reiji had said to him, Haruki had still tried to recover the friendship they had lost.
And what had Reiji done?
Beat him into the ground.
Reiji stared at his hand.
It trembled slightly.
Ki flowed through his fingers, steady and obedient.
"This power won't betray me," he whispered. "It won't leave."
But once again, the car was too quiet.
The statement echoed back at him.
And somehow it sounded even less convincing the second time.
The vehicle finally descended into the underground garage beneath Olympus headquarters.
Reiji stepped out.
His people greeted him.
He barely acknowledged them.
Because despite everything else, he was still thinking about the red-haired stranger wearing Kaito Hoshino's face.
And the frustrating certainty that their next fight would be very different.
Reiji Takamura—Zeus, martial artist, gang leader, and currently full-time existential crisis sufferer—paced around his office like a businessman about to lose his most important client.
Except the "client" was Ren Kisaragi.
And the "deal" was figuring out how not to get his face rearranged during their inevitable rematch.
Threatening Ren's friends was out.
Not because it hadn't worked.
It had.
But it felt…
wrong.
Annoyingly wrong.
Like winning through a method that somehow made the victory worth less.
So, yeah.
Time for another strategy.
"Forget all this honor nonsense," Reiji muttered. "How do I actually beat him next time?"
Because make no mistake:
Ren was coming back.
The idiot had survived several minutes against him while Fivefold Ascension climbed from twofold to fourfold, eightfold, and finally sixteenfold.
And he had nearly survived long enough for the Fifth Ascension.
Thirty-twofold.
Reiji didn't particularly enjoy thinking about what would have happened after that.
At the rate Ren was improving, the next fight was going to become substantially more irritating.
Reiji had Ki.
He also possessed a spiritual foundation developed through Kurogiri's teachings, although his command of it was nowhere near as natural as his physical Ki.
Theoretically, that gave him options.
Theoretically.
Then—
Like some martial-arts ghost summoned by regret—
Shūzen Kurogiri appeared.
No door.
No footsteps.
No warning.
Just…
there.
Reiji stopped pacing.
"Reiji," Kurogiri said calmly.
The man was tall and lean, with long grey-violet hair flowing loosely behind him. His expression was peaceful enough to belong to a wandering monk.
His eyes ruined the effect.
Those were the eyes of someone who considered dangerous martial-arts theories interesting enough to test personally.
"Oh, good," Reiji said dryly. "You did sneak into my office like a ghost."
Kurogiri smiled.
"You seem troubled."
"No."
"Is it the boy?"
Reiji sighed.
Of course it was.
Kurogiri continued.
"His potential concerns you."
"That obvious?"
"To me."
Reiji folded his arms.
"You're going to mention that technique again, aren't you?"
Kurogiri remained perfectly still.
"Spirit and Ki Roar as One."
Reiji's expression immediately soured.
"You mean the technique that might cripple me?"
"Yes."
"Or destroy my energy pathways?"
"Yes."
"Or possibly kill me?"
"A possibility."
Reiji stared at him.
"And you wonder why I keep saying no?"
Kurogiri tilted his head.
"Great martial artists often walk near death."
"Could you not sound like a villain for five seconds?"
Kurogiri chuckled softly.
That was one of the disturbing things about his master.
He rarely forced anyone to do anything.
He simply presented possibilities.
Dangerous possibilities.
Unstable techniques.
Methods sane martial artists would refuse before he finished explaining them.
Then he watched.
Waited.
Studied.
Kurogiri loved martial arts too much.
Testing dangerous techniques on willing students wasn't merely research to him.
It was recreation.
Still…
Reiji hated admitting it.
The technique was tempting.
The idea was to force physical Ki and spiritual power into a single harmonized release.
In theory, the result would produce something far greater than simply using both separately.
In practice?
It could ruin the person attempting it.
Reiji made the intelligent decision.
"No."
Kurogiri's eyebrow rose.
"I'll find someone who can teach me proper magic instead. There are organizations and practitioners for that."
Kurogiri smiled.
"As you wish."
Reiji hated that smile.
It was patient.
Far too patient.
Like Kurogiri already knew exactly what Reiji would choose when desperation eventually became stronger than common sense.
For now, though, Reiji preferred the path that was merely dangerous rather than suicidal.
Then Kurogiri said something that immediately ruined his evening.
"Ren is developing Ki."
Reiji froze.
Kurogiri's eyes gleamed with intellectual interest.
"He already possesses substantial spiritual power. Now his physical Ki is awakening as well."
Reiji said nothing.
"Interesting."
That was not the word Reiji would have chosen.
Kurogiri smiled.
"If his development continues, perhaps I should offer Spirit and Ki Roar as One to him."
Reiji's jaw tightened.
Absolutely not.
Ren with spiritual energy was already irritating.
Ren with Ki was worse.
Ren with both, Fivefold Ascension, magic, and Kurogiri's insane fusion technique?
That wasn't competition anymore.
That was a rapidly approaching disaster.
"…He isn't ready."
Kurogiri regarded him calmly.
"He barely understands Earth Ki yet."
No response.
"He doesn't understand what it means to sacrifice everything for power."
Still nothing.
Reiji blinked.
Kurogiri was gone.
Just like that.
As though he had never entered the room.
Reiji stared at the empty space.
"I hate when he does that."
Okay.
I've had better naps.
Waking up inside a mental world with a gigantic celestial lion staring down at you like you had personally disappointed the concept of dignity?
Not ideal.
Still better than waking up in the real world, where my ribs currently felt like they had been borrowed by somebody for percussion practice.
I opened my eyes.
The strange inner space connected to Fivefold Ascension stretched around me.
And standing ahead was Vhalor, the Radiant Sovereign.
Massive.
Regal.
White-gold light shimmered through his mane and across the natural armor covering his enormous body.
His expression was not pleased.
"We would have had a considerably different outcome with one more minute."
I stretched my mental neck before dropping backward onto the invisible ground.
"Mhm. Totally. One more minute. Maybe an extra spine too. Titanium skin would've helped."
Vhalor's eyes narrowed.
"You underestimate yourself."
"Nope. Just being realistic."
I sat back up.
"Reiji was holding back."
Vhalor became still.
"You noticed."
"Yeah."
I shrugged.
"He wanted to prove he was better. If he really wanted me dead, he had opportunities before I reached the Fourth Ascension."
Vhalor regarded me silently.
"The Fifth might've changed things," I continued. "But I never got the minute I needed."
That part annoyed me.
Four stages.
Sixteen times my starting power.
One more Ascension and I would have reached thirty-twofold.
But Reiji had figured out what I was doing.
And once he understood I was buying time?
Yeah.
He stopped giving it to me.
"Are you in pain?" Vhalor asked.
His voice had shifted slightly.
Less annoyed ancient sovereign.
More concerned giant lion.
Which was strange.
But kind of nice.
"We're in my head."
"Your soul remains connected to your physical condition."
"Right. Forgot."
I leaned back again.
"I've had worse."
Vhalor watched me.
"Kyo nearly killed me once."
Silence.
"Like, actually tried."
I tapped my chest.
"Black Lightning straight through here."
Vhalor's expression changed.
"Nearly died."
"And you say this casually?"
"Compared to that?"
I grinned.
"This is an extremely painful massage."
A low rumble escaped Vhalor.
I was counting that as laughter.
Victory.
Still, I wasn't stupid.
The fight hurt.
Not only physically.
My pride had taken a fairly impressive beating too.
I had fought seriously.
Reiji had still won.
But that didn't mean I had gained nothing.
"Could've gone better," I admitted.
Vhalor tilted his head.
"An insightful observation."
"Thank you, Captain Obvious."
His eyes narrowed.
I continued before the giant immortal lion decided sarcasm was punishable by mauling.
"But now we know where he stands."
"You did not know before?"
"Not exactly."
I stared upward into the strange darkness.
"I knew he was stronger. Now I know how much stronger. I know how he fights. I know how he reacts when Fivefold Ascension starts closing the gap."
I smiled.
"And now he knows I'm coming back."
Vhalor studied me.
"You intend to challenge him again."
"Obviously."
"After what just happened?"
"Especially after what just happened."
I rested my hands behind my head.
"We'll beat him eventually. Then he has to deal with us properly."
My smile faded slightly.
"He reminds me of Kyo."
"The friend who nearly killed you."
"One of his less charming moments."
"You possess concerning standards for friendship."
"That's fair."
I stared upward again.
"Same problem, though. Afraid of bonds. Trusts power more than people. Acts like caring about someone gives them a weapon against you."
Vhalor remained silent for a few seconds.
Then:
"You are surprisingly perceptive for someone who repeatedly charges stronger opponents headfirst."
"Those are unrelated skills."
Another rumble.
Definitely laughter this time.
Then Vhalor became serious.
"You are a good leader, Ren."
I blinked.
"What?"
"You knew victory was unlikely once he began fighting seriously."
I didn't answer.
"Yet you continued because surrendering would have meant surrendering the people behind you as well."
My throat tightened slightly.
Vhalor continued.
"You stood. You fought. You bled. And your people saw it."
I looked away.
Compliments were weird.
Real ones especially.
"I, uh…"
I scratched my cheek.
"Thanks."
"I am stating fact."
"Still."
Vhalor regarded me quietly.
"You gained more from that defeat than you realize."
I smiled.
"Losing one battle doesn't bother me. If I learn something, survive, and come back stronger?"
I shrugged.
"I'll take it."
Even if my ribs strongly disagreed with that philosophy.
And there was something else.
During the fight, Kaito's body had finally crossed the threshold I'd been chasing.
Ki.
Actual physical Ki.
"We've got Ki now," I said.
Vhalor's eyes brightened slightly.
"Not just spiritual energy."
I flexed one mental hand.
"If I can learn to make the two work together properly…"
My grin returned.
"We're going to become ridiculous."
Vhalor looked almost pleased.
Almost.
"With another month or two at Ryūseikan, I'll be much stronger."
The image of Reiji flashed through my thoughts.
Cold eyes.
Perfect control.
That desperate hunger to stand above everyone before anyone could stand above him.
"And when I beat him…"
My expression softened.
"I'm going to make that idiot listen."
Then another face entered my thoughts.
Kyo.
"And after that?"
I closed my eyes.
"I'll be better prepared for Kyo too."
Vhalor rumbled approvingly.
I didn't know what tomorrow would bring.
But I knew one thing.
I wasn't done.
If anyone had told me that one day I would be bleeding internally inside a helicopter while my friends sat around me looking like survivors of a small war, I probably would have laughed.
Actually, I was unconscious.
So laughing wasn't currently available.
On the outside, I looked like somebody had taken an action figure and tested how many joints could bend the wrong way before somebody complained.
Arm?
Fractured.
Ribs?
Broken.
Legs?
Not having a great afternoon.
Inside?
Things were considerably less photogenic.
The faint circulation of spiritual energy and newly awakened Ki through Kaito's body was helping keep things from getting even worse, but nobody aboard was stupid enough to mistake that for fine.
Inside the helicopter, the mood was grim.
Hana had finally stopped crying.
Mostly.
She sat beside me with her hands clenched together, occasionally muttering things that sounded halfway between prayers and threats.
"If you die, I swear I'll punch your ghost."
Beside her sat Haruki, who currently looked more like a bandaged archaeological discovery than a martial-arts student.
His arms were supported.
Several injuries had been wrapped.
His face remained pale despite the medication.
"I've had better training days," he muttered.
Across from him, Shōgo snorted.
"You mean like yesterday?"
Haruki stared at him.
"…Point taken."
Shōgo Kitsukawa, despite being battered himself, was watching the windows like the world's angriest guard dog.
There were trained security personnel aboard.
That did not matter.
Shōgo had frozen once.
Apparently he had decided that was never happening again.
Then there was Kazuki Saejima.
Hermes.
Who somehow remained offensively calm.
"Relax," Kazuki said, checking the flight information on his phone. "We're nearly at Ryūseikan. Seijūrō will put him back together."
Haruki slowly looked toward Ren's unconscious body.
"Can you say that in a way that sounds less like he's a broken machine?"
"No."
Everyone stared at him.
Then—
The air changed.
Something descended from above.
Black wings spread against the sky as Dorian Krell, one of Nyxara's Fallen Celestials, dropped toward the helicopter.
His eyes locked onto Ren.
An unconscious target.
Injured.
Separated from Ryūseikan.
Almost perfect.
"Finally," Dorian muttered, forming a spear of condensed light in one hand. "Destroy the aircraft, take the boy during the confusion—"
WHAM.
Dorian disappeared.
Not metaphorically.
One instant he was descending toward the helicopter.
The next?
He became a rapidly shrinking object travelling in the opposite direction at a speed that suggested several laws of nature had resigned in protest.
Far away, Dorian slammed into the side of a mountain.
Trees shook.
Birds scattered.
Several woodland animals probably reconsidered their understanding of the universe.
Inside the helicopter, everyone stared.
Well.
Almost everyone.
Twenty miles away, standing on the roof of Ryūseikan, Genzō Aratake slowly lowered one fist.
"Hmph."
He looked at his hand.
"Held back too much."
Genzō had just launched a compressed strike through the air across an absolutely unreasonable distance and punched an airborne Fallen Celestial out of the sky.
Why?
Because someone had tried to attack one of Ryūseikan's students.
Also because apparently he could.
"Next time," Genzō muttered, "I'll aim lower."
"Now, now."
Genzō's eyebrow twitched.
Nearby, Genryūsai Tendō stood drinking tea with the peaceful smile of a grandfather who absolutely could not be trusted to behave like a normal grandfather.
"We do not eliminate every obstacle our students encounter."
Genzō looked at him.
"We guide them."
"You mean let them get attacked."
"We intervene when necessary."
"That looked necessary."
"And you intervened."
Genzō stared at the distant mountain.
Dorian would survive.
On purpose.
Definitely on purpose.
Because if the masters destroyed every enemy their students encountered, the students would never learn to handle those threats themselves.
That did not mean Genzō had to enjoy the philosophy.
He grunted.
"Vaelis is getting a complaint."
Back inside the helicopter, Haruki finally found his voice.
"What just happened?!"
Shōgo cracked his neck.
"Someone tried to interrupt our dramatic medical emergency."
He looked through the window.
"Got punched into next week."
Kazuki smirked.
"I told you getting Ren to Ryūseikan was the easy part."
Hana looked down at Ren.
For just a moment, his expression shifted.
Barely.
Somewhere deep inside, perhaps while arguing with a giant celestial lion about the educational value of broken ribs—
the faintest smile appeared on his face.
Inside a mansion that technically did not belong to her, but which she occupied with the confidence of someone who considered property law a polite suggestion, Nyxara Veyl lounged in a stolen velvet chair.
In front of her floated a shimmering surveillance orb.
It displayed the sky above the city in real time.
Watching beside her were Kalira Voss and Mirelle Sorn.
Kalira remained silent and composed.
Mirelle possessed enough stored sarcasm to qualify as a strategic weapon.
Nyxara simply watched.
"So," Mirelle said, swinging her legs over the arm of a very expensive couch she absolutely did not own, "how many brain cells did Dorian lose before deciding that was a good idea?"
Kalira took another sip of tea.
No answer.
"I mean, seriously," Mirelle continued. "I understand the logic. The target is unconscious. Everyone is injured. They're flying around in one convenient metal box."
She pointed at the orb.
"But attacking a helicopter heading toward Ryūseikan?"
Kalira finally spoke.
"He believed he had enough distance."
Mirelle stared at the image.
The orb replayed the scene.
Dorian descending.
Light spear ready.
Then—
BOOM.
Gone.
Punched out of the sky.
From twenty miles away.
By one extremely annoyed martial artist.
Mirelle slowly lowered her hand.
"…Apparently not enough distance."
Kalira sipped her tea.
Nyxara said nothing.
She simply stared at the distant figure of Genzō on Ryūseikan's roof.
Her expression had become considerably less smug.
For perhaps the first time since deciding Kaito Hoshino would make an easy target, Nyxara began to properly understand one very important detail.
Getting Ren alone was going to be much harder than expected.