Chapter 440: The Wild Tiger's Choice
[The Inside — Nine Spiders Sector]
Reputation-wise, Nine Spiders was only marginally better than the slaughterhouse
of Ten Tokita. Gang wars and territorial firefights were constant, and anyone
who couldn't stomach the bloodshed had fled long ago.
Yet today, under the bloody suppression of [THE MAJIN] Raian Kure, a rare,
terrifying peace had settled over the district.
The bodyguard's camera feed continued.
After delivering his death threat to Ren through the lens, Raian waited for a
moment. Seeing that no more outlaws dared step into his range, he clicked his
tongue in disgust.
"Trash. What a boring bunch."
He rolled his neck, his cervical vertebrae popping like firecrackers.
Suddenly, an amused grin split his blood-smeared face. He turned and stalked
back toward the terrified bodyguard.
"Hey. Heard Shiroki isn't the only one crashing this party."
"That Mr. Unchained... Oliva... he's here too, right? Which gate is he holding?
You got footage?"
The barrage of questions left the guard paralyzed. It wasn't until Raian patted
him on the cheek—slap, slap—that the man scrambled to contact his colleague
posted at the Ten Tokita checkpoint.
A minute later, Raian heard the audio of Oliva telling everyone to go home and
drink coffee because he was going to conquer the Ward by himself.
"...The hell did he say?"
Veins instantly erupted across Raian's forehead, his jaw grinding so hard his
molars audibly creaked. The sheer killing intent radiating off him warped the
air.
He snatched the phone from the guard's trembling hand and dialed into the Ten
Tokita frequency, connecting directly to Oliva.
Oliva's velvety, relaxed baritone came through the speaker: "This is Oliva.
Who's calling?"
"You bloated black bastard...!"
Whenever Raian lost his temper, his mouth turned into a sewer. "Drag your fat
ass back to your cell! There isn't a cage in the entire Ward big enough to hold
your fat ass!!"
"Oho! My, my... what a charming compliment."
On the other end of the line, Oliva was practically purring with amusement.
"However, my rude young friend, I must offer a small correction."
"There isn't a cage in this Ward—nor on the face of this earth—capable of
containing me~!"
Oliva gave a slow, self-satisfied chuckle. "After all... I am the Freest Man on
Earth."
Oliva was decades older than Raian and possessed the patience of a seasoned
hunter. Childish trash talk from a foul-mouthed brat didn't even register.
To Raian, hurling insults at Oliva was like punching a giant ball of wet cotton.
It only stoked his rage to a white-hot fury.
CRACK!
Raian's fingers contracted. His grip strength crushed the smartphone into a
pulverized heap of glass, silicon, and battery acid! He spiked the smoking
wreckage into the dirt, shattering it into fragments.
The bodyguard: "..."
The bodyguard: (My... my brand-new phone...)
Tears welled in the guard's eyes, but one look at the blood-drenched demon
before him forced his mouth shut. He could only mourn his data plan in silence.
The recording from Nine Spiders clicked off.
Around the campfire at the Three Wolves gate, Ren Shiroki, Fusui Kure, Arisa,
Marco, and Himuro Ryo listened to Metsudo Katahara's chuckling voice echoing
through the tablet.
"Gwahaha! Quite the energetic young man, wouldn't you say?"
Fusui leaned her weight against Ren's shoulder, a tired, wry grin on her face.
"Well... that's Aniki for you."
Her black-and-white eyes shifted to the tactical map spread out on the stone
slab.
Of the primary perimeter checkpoints, only three remained: Two Tigers, Four
Turtles, and Seven Ohma.
Earlier intel confirmed that the Four Turtles key card was missing. That meant
the remaining two gates should each have a representative holding the line.
Metsudo signaled his staff to zoom in on the sector directly adjacent to Three
Wolves—Two Tigers.
"The Two Tigers checkpoint was originally offered to the Kure Clan as well,"
Metsudo explained, stroking his beard. "However, the warrior who received the
Secret Key Card insisted on testing himself alone."
"You all know his name."
"The man with the highest win count in Kengan history, premier fighter of Furumi
Pharmaceuticals—[THE WILD TIGER] Takeshi Wakatsuki."
"He politely declined Kure assistance, choosing to stand at the threshold of Two
Tigers as a solitary trial."
Ren and the crew were surprised, yet it made complete sense.
[THE WILD TIGER] Takeshi Wakatsuki. Kengan Record: 306 wins, 2 losses. Age: 40.
Height: 193 cm. Weight: 193 kg.
Born weighing an astronomical 12,150 grams—four times the weight of an average
newborn. Clinical examination revealed his muscle fiber density was fifty-two
times that of a normal human being. An authentic superhuman mutation whose
physical power continued to grow throughout his life without biological decay.
In his youth, he had tasted defeat at the hands of two legendary masters: [THE
FLOATING CLOUD] Sen Hatsumi and [THE FANG] Kanoh Agito, the latter leaving him
with permanent trauma in his right ankle.
Yet the Wild Tiger had never stopped advancing.
A warrior of that caliber would never pass up an opportunity to test his iron
against The Inside. Declining backup was simply his nature.
Ren smiled. "If Wakatsuki-aniki is holding the gate, then Two Tigers must be
completely locked down."
Metsudo paused, his tone taking an unexpected turn. "...No. Not entirely."
Ren blinked. "What do you mean?"
Metsudo instructed his tech crew to play the footage.
The video began.
When the Chairman's surveillance agent arrived at the Two Tigers gate, the scene
was a catastrophic ruin of pulverized concrete, cracked steel, and giant
fist-shaped craters.
The battlefield was unmistakably the aftermath of Wakatsuki's 52-times muscle
density running wild. The battle was over; not a single outlaw dared approach
the perimeter.
Yet, strangely, Wakatsuki stood in the center of the destruction, staring at his
own hands in deep, silent contemplation. It took the guard walking up to him for
the titan to snap out of his reverie.
"...Ah. Are you from the Association?"
Wakatsuki's short blonde hair was neat, his rugged beard flecked with dust and
blood.
"My apologies. By terms of my agreement, I cannot remain at this gate. You may
inform Chairman Katahara that the outlaws here will not spill over into Tokyo."
Without another word, Wakatsuki hoisted his heavy pack. With firm, grounded
strides, he turned his back on the exit and walked steadily deeper into The
Inside.
"I still have deficiencies..." his voice rumbled quietly before fading into the
wind. "The Inside is a magnificent training ground."
The recording ended.
Unlike Oliva's flamboyant swagger or Raian's bloody massacre, Wakatsuki's
footage left everyone with a knot of questions.
What agreement? With whom? And what kind of monster could possibly make the Wild
Tiger consider himself 'deficient'?!
Metsudo stroked his mustache, his eyes gleaming with intrigue.
"The remaining two sectors—Four Turtles and Seven Ohma—are total blind spots. My
agents haven't been able to penetrate their intelligence nets. The answer likely
lies in the heart of those zones."
The pieces of the board were moving. Different masters, driven by different
philosophies, were converging on the lawless city.
Who would claim their answer? And who would stand as the final survivor within
the Ward?
Late night settled in.
Fusui and Himuro were staying behind to assist Ren as he pushed deeper into the
territory. Arisa and Marco, however, were ordered back to the surface.
"You got your camping trip," Ren said, rubbing Arisa's hair into a messy nest.
"Head home. If anything crazy happens at the Hub, call Chiharu-aniki. You know
how tough he is."
Arisa pouted, still wanting to watch the show, but she had school in the
morning. She and Marco said their goodbyes and headed back through the
checkpoint tunnel toward Tokyo.
Now, only three remained: Ren Shiroki, Fusui Kure, and Himuro Ryo.
A compact, elite three-person squad.
They slept in shifts inside the captured tents, greeting the pale light of
morning with quiet focus.
After a quick breakfast of field rations, the three gathered around the stone
slab to map their route.
"Alright," Himuro said, leaning on his knees. "As a native of Three Wolves,
here's my advice: if we want to push deeper into the interior without fighting
every gang on every corner, we need to talk to [THE GENERAL] Zhang."
"He runs the Three Wolves sector. If we secure his permission—or at least his
neutral acknowledgment—we can cut straight through his territory into the
central districts."
Ren nodded. "Then I'll leave the comms to you, Himuro-aniki."
"No problem. That's what I'm here for." Himuro pulled out his burner phone,
fingers hovering over the keypad. "So, what's our opening posture with General
Zhang? A polite 'we're passing through and won't cause trouble'? Or do we offer
some cash to make friends?"
Ren tapped his chin, thinking it through with absolute sincerity.
"Tell General Zhang... I'm going to butcher him before lunch. Tell him exactly
that."
Himuro: "..."
Himuro: "...Excuse me?!"
☆☆☆
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