Chapter 67: Suze vs. Soku Toma
The crowd's fervent cheers gradually faded.
"What's this? A freeloader?"
"Is the Martial God a clown act? So dramatic, haha!"
"The Kengan organizers sure know how to hype things up."
Sayaka Katahara looked embarrassed.
No one expected a clash of martial masters to end like this.
Genzai Kuroki walked off, exasperated.
Hisayasu Takemoto was just too old.
Kuroki held back his piercing hand, fearing he'd kill the old man.
Not every elder was Haihuang Guo.
…
"Boring," Takeshi Wakatsuki scoffed, arms crossed.
"He's just too old," the Furumi Pharmaceuticals president chuckled.
…
"Are all the fighters this weak?" Nitora laughed.
"Kuroki's probably strong…" Kinzo Sanshiki remained calm.
Takemoto's poor showing didn't highlight Kuroki's strength—it just felt like bullying an old man.
Many burly young spectators thought, I could do that.
Fighters? Overrated.
But the next match shattered their assumptions.
…
First up: Japan's wrestling superstar, Jun Sekibayashi, dubbed the Hell's Angel and Master of Suplexes.
Kengan record: 57 wins, 1 loss!
Cumulative earnings: 555.1125 billion yen!
His physique was monstrous, absorbing any attack head-on with maxed-out willpower and endurance.
His opponent: the Fight God, Kaolan!
Kaolan could unleash thirteen punches—or more—in a single breath, each rivaling a heavyweight boxer's strike.
The match ignited the arena.
Every punch landed viscerally, striking the audience's hearts.
Suze watched intently.
Kaolan's rapid punches and footwork were flawless, a dazzling display.
Jun Sekibayashi, like a polar bear under cannon fire, could only defend.
"Since I chose wrestling, I don't block—I take every move head-on!" Sekibayashi's roar echoed.
Boom!
Kaolan's heavy punch struck Sekibayashi's jaw, sending him flying, blood spilling.
The Thai Fight God, cold as a deity, closed in to finish the wrestler teetering on the cliff's edge.
But his arrogance cost him dearly.
Sekibayashi sprang up, limbs spread like a predatory bat, lunging at Kaolan.
An open guard—was this suicide?
Kaolan held his breath, fists raining down.
Spectators swore they saw thousands of arms in a flash!
Muay Thai's eight limbs were brutal; boxing was the fastest, most precise, and explosive.
Kaolan mastered both.
His burst of power rivaled a charging truck.
…
"Such a shame, sis. Sekibayashi's muscles are amazing," Jumi Soryuin sighed.
She and her sister were muscle enthusiasts.
Shion Soryuin watched silently, noncommittal.
…
"It's over," Cosmo Imai smirked.
He never respected big guys like Sekibayashi.
No matter how strong, humans followed biomechanical limits, vulnerable to joint locks.
His Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu was humanity's kryptonite.
"You're wrong, Cosmo," Takeshi Wakatsuki said coldly. "You don't know Sekibayashi."
As a Kengan veteran, he knew Sekibayashi well.
Wrestlers thrived on comebacks.
Until the final moment, a wrestler never truly lost.
…
Mid-air, Sekibayashi absorbed a barrage, eyes rolling back.
Yet his form, like a dark sky, crashed onto Kaolan unyieldingly.
"Here it is! The wrestler's ultimate counterattack!" Sayaka Katahara shouted, eyes wide. "What's Sekibayashi doing?! He's grabbed Kaolan—it's a backdrop!"
Most fighters would mount and pummel, but not Sekibayashi.
Locking Kaolan's waist, his exaggerated abs bulged as he arched back, slamming Kaolan's skull into the floor.
A classic wrestling move—and a killing technique!
Boom!
The ground quaked, Kaolan's impact cratering the arena, cracks spiderwebbing outward.
Sekibayashi wasn't done. With a feral grin, his manliness radiated.
He hoisted Kaolan like a dead dog overhead.
All eyes locked on him.
"That stance—it's the Argentine Backbreaker! Is Sekibayashi about to snap Kaolan's spine?! He's going to destroy a fighting legend!" Sayaka's fists clenched, her chest heaving with excitement.
The arena gasped.
A fighting star was about to fall.
Kaolan's employer stood, jaw clenched.
Blood streamed from Kaolan's head, consciousness fading, memories of past glories flashing.
He couldn't lose—he was Thailand's pride.
…
Sekibayashi spun Kaolan, showing off his trophy.
A wrestler's crowd-pleasing ritual.
But then—
A twist!
Kaolan sank, slipping free from Sekibayashi's grip.
His feet remained caught.
As long as Sekibayashi held control, he had countless ways to crush him.
Crack!
A horrifying sound rang out, bone snapping, chilling the crowd.
Kaolan spun, his spiral force breaking free.
But his left ankle twisted grotesquely.
The unnatural shape was shocking.
Kaolan stood on one leg, exhaling, as if numbing the pain.
Only the sweat on his brow betrayed his agony.
"Just dodge, and you're helpless!" Sekibayashi taunted, arms wide.
But everyone knew—he was a man.
A man doesn't run.
Sekibayashi charged, limbs spread, a wave of heat trailing him.
Kaolan closed his eyes, entering a state of pure focus.
No thoughts, no distractions.
Boom!
Kaolan's fist, as swift as ever, slammed into Sekibayashi's abdomen, lifting him inches off the ground.
Then came a breathless combo.
Ten punches.
Each left a deep dent in Sekibayashi's chest and abdomen.
After ten, Sekibayashi collapsed, unconscious.
The arena fell silent.
Sakura Yamauchi covered her mouth.
A reversal, then another!
This was the Kengan Tournament?
This was the fight Suze-kun would face?!
…
Time flew like a fleeting horse. Each subsequent match was thrilling—except for Rito, whom Oriba pummeled like a sandbag.
"Next, Group B, Round 1, Match 5!"
"Please welcome Toyorin Construction's Number 24, Suze, and Tokugawa Industries' Number 25, Soku Toma!"
Suze's moment arrived.
He strode through the tunnel, his gaze sharp as a blade, locking onto Soku Toma approaching from the opposite side.
Soku's frame dwarfed Suze's—his thighs twice as thick.
Now, a clash of kicks.
Kicks vs. Kicks!
A two-thousand-year undefeated legend vs. a Japanese high schooler!