Gō Kazemizu was of a younger generation—not an outsider—so Katahara Metsudo didn't stop her from continuing her investigation.
"Ideal… referring to diamond cuts? Is that a codename?"
Gō Kazemizu jotted it down and nodded in thanks to Metsudo.
"Mm!"
Metsudo's expression relaxed again. His gaze drifted toward the corner, where Arisa was tending to Shiraki Sho's wounds—though her movements were clearly clumsy and uncertain.
Basic first aid was within Arisa's abilities, but Sho's injuries now required a more professional touch.
By this time, most of the underground casino crowd had dispersed. The Zanchi underboss, who had organized the event, was nowhere to be seen, and naturally, no one else bothered to care about Shiraki Sho's condition.
"That won't do."
Metsudo beckoned to one of his guards, signaling him to step forward and assist with the bandaging.
As the current chairman of the Kengan Association, Metsudo was more than willing to look after a promising young fighter—especially someone as gifted as Shiraki Sho.
"The new generation… whether fighters or entrepreneurs, they're quite an interesting bunch. Seems this old man won't be bored after all…"
With a cheerful laugh, Metsudo waited patiently while his guard finished treating Sho's wounds. Once it was done, he turned and bid everyone farewell.
"It's been a delightful evening. Thank you all for the entertainment!"
The old man's vigor was undiminished as ever.
With Metsudo and his two guards gone, the underground casino grew increasingly quiet.
Arisa stayed behind to care for her brother, while the Go sisters lingered nearby, keeping the siblings company out of idle curiosity.
When most of the spectators had finally left, two figures in black suits emerged from the shadows—the debt collectors from Teiai Corporation—approaching Shiraki Sho with polite composure.
"Mr. Shiraki."
Their tone was surprisingly courteous.
They were Teiai's debt enforcers. Unlike the Zanchi, they were not bound by the underworld's code—they answered only to contracts and profit.
"Please rest assured, the contract you signed remains valid. However, details regarding your debt reduction are still under review. We ask for your patience."
One of them handed over a business card and bowed slightly.
"It appears the Zanchi has contacted certain external parties. We'll need to report back to headquarters. Regardless, we'll reach out to you soon—and follow up with a home visit."
"..."
Sho accepted the card and nodded.
Though Teiai was known as a ruthless conglomerate, it was still a legitimate "corporation" at its core. The two men before him were simply employees following procedure.
From what Gō Kazemizu and Metsudo had mentioned, this underground tournament seemed to involve several external forces. The situation was clearly complicated, and such lower-level operatives weren't equipped to handle it on their own.
That being the case—there was no harm in waiting to see how things developed.
Night deepened.
Gō Kazemizu drove, with Karura and Arisa in tow, and offered Sho a ride as well. Together, they left the chaos and darkness of the underworld, emerging once more into the dazzling neon glow of Tokyo's streets.
Arisa gazed out the window at the city lights, feeling an odd sense of dissonance—like waking from a vivid dream. Everything that had happened tonight already felt distant, unreal.
Then she turned to look at her brother
He was asleep.
Sprawled out in the backseat, snoring peacefully. Aside from the bandages on his forehead and torso, there was no sign he'd just survived a life-or-death battle.
The car jolted slightly, stirring Sho from his half-dreaming state. Faint flashes of tonight's fight flickered through his mind, stirring a quiet thrill in his chest.
"Not bad… that was incredible…"
"..."
Hearing her brother mumble in his sleep, Arisa suddenly recalled—before his illness, that's exactly the kind of person he had been: a reckless optimist who could laugh through anything.
She was glad to see his old self returning… but the image of him, bloodied and grinning in the ring, also made her uneasy.
"I guess… it's a good thing. Maybe."
The car rolled to a stop in front of the Shiraki family's small lot.
Gō Kazemizu woke Sho from his half-slumber, and before parting, she pulled out a business card.
"My number's on it."
Her dark eyes gleamed as she smiled playfully.
"If you ever need someone killed, give me a call. I'll even give you a discount."
"..."
How… polite.
Brother and sister stared at her blankly, until Sho awkwardly tucked the card away and forced a smile in return.
After Gō Kazemizu and Karura left, the siblings washed up and retreated to their small tin prefab rooms.
Lying on his bed, Sho started piecing together what needed to be done next.
The Teiai debt was still unresolved. Their living conditions desperately needed improvement. And the Kengan Association might reach out again soon…
A lot was on his plate—but it wasn't chaos. It was direction.
Snap!
Sho clenched his right fist. For a brief moment, the shadow of Ryu appeared before him—their fists meeting in silent acknowledgment.
"Good,"
Sho murmured as sleep began to pull him under.
"I want another fight…"
The next morning.
Sho rose early, checked his injuries, and found them healing well enough to resume light training.
Between the Kengan Association, the cryptic memories resurfacing in his mind, and the mysterious group that had orchestrated last night's match—he needed strength. Real strength.
No sparring today. Instead, Sho decided to focus on the visions in his head—the figures behind Ryu, the ones waiting in the shadows of his memory.
Whoosh! Whoosh!
Out in the empty lot, Sho shadowboxed, his punches slicing the air.
As his body warmed up, his mind sharpened.
And once again, Ryu's ink-like phantom appeared before him—his stance perfect, unwavering.
But this time, Ryu didn't attack first.
"Because I've already overcome the instinct to dodge… you're not going to warn me anymore, huh?"
Sho smiled faintly. He didn't need words; he understood.
"Thank you."
Ryu's phantom nodded, faintly smiling in return—almost proud—before taking a slow step forward, his intent to attack now unmistakable.
"Oh? You're feeding me more moves?"
Sho quickly glanced around and saw more shadows forming nearby—different builds, different auras—all faint, but distinct.
"Other masters? You mean… I can fight them too?!"
His pulse quickened.
If he kept training, kept pushing, more of these Street Fighter legends would take shape—and he'd get to challenge them all.
"Then let's start"
He tightened his stance, locking eyes with Ryu, his very first mentor—the man who taught him form, discipline, and the price of strength.
Wham!
Sho lunged forward, meeting Ryu head-on, fists colliding in a blur.
Bam! Bam! Bam!
The sparring went on intermittently.
Sometimes Sho would be flattened, unable to even stand; other times, Ryu's phantom would motion for him to sit and meditate, reflecting on every move and mistake.
By noon, Sho had cooked lunch and—out of habit—asked if Ryu wanted some.
Ryu just sighed, shaking his head helplessly.
And so, half a day passed—training, reflection, and quiet progress.
By afternoon, Arisa came home from school.
Matsumoto Kozue had left early to help her mother with groceries, so only Karura tagged along—and the two happened to run into Gō Kazemizu nearby.
Kazemizu claimed she was "just wandering around," and Arisa, though skeptical, didn't press further.
Since they were all there, the three girls sat on the lot eating ice cream, watching Sho train under the sun.
"..."
Arisa glanced at the bandage on her brother's head, sighing softly.
"Why does he push himself so hard? I could've helped with the debt too…"
But Gō Kazemizu only smiled and shook her head.
"Maybe that's just what he wants to do."
"Why?"
"We've got people like that in the Go clan too."
She leaned back, recalling.
"The details vary, but it's the same truth—everyone's dreamed, at some point, of becoming the 'strongest in the world.'"
"Most give up eventually."
"Maybe they lost a fight to a friend. Or got beaten up by a schoolyard bully. Or took a hit from their father, learned what pain was. Got scolded by a teacher. Got crushed by a boss…"
"So they move on. Become doctors, politicians, business owners, artists, teachers, office workers…"
"But there's always that tiny handful of people—who, no matter what happens, never let go of that first dream."
Kazemizu grinned.
"Heh. It's kind of amazing, isn't it? That kind of stupid, stubborn brilliance."
"..."
Arisa thought about it for a long while, then nodded quietly.
After Kazemizu and Karura left, dusk settled over the neighborhood.
It was Arisa's turn to make dinner tonight. She was just about to start when she noticed a black sedan pulling up outside the lot.
Sho paused mid-training, wiping sweat from his brow with a towel.
He told Arisa to head inside and work on her homework—he'd handle this.
From the car stepped a middle-aged man with gray-white hair, slicked back neatly.
He wore a khaki trench coat over a suit, his face sharply defined, his demeanor cold and serious.
From a distance, Arisa overheard his introduction.
"A pleasure to meet you."
The man extended his hand.
"Tonegawa Yukio. I represent the Teiai Corporation."