Chapter 463: Prelude to the Climax
The invasion of the Fourth Turtle District ultimately ended amidst Oliva's
wailing cries and the helpless, lingering laughter of the crowd.
In the wake of this clash, the various mercenary groups stationed throughout the
Fourth Turtle District were hit by an unimaginable wave of psychological shock.
The sheer, staggering presence of the "lone-wolf heavyweights" roaming around
The Inside had broken the nerve of countless mercenaries, prompting many of them
to breach their contracts and flee outright.
Electric Power, IDEAL, and The Worm—the three evil syndicates squatting in the
Fourth Turtle District—completely lost cohesion, rendering them incapable of
stirring up further trouble anytime soon.
"..."
Tokita Niko arranged for an acquaintance to ship [The Beautiful Beast] Setsuna
Kiryu to the hospital, further commissioning Ren's friend, An Sakurai, to handle
his medical care.
In Ohma's eyes, Kiryu Setsuna wasn't pure evil.
He simply possessed a different—and equally tragic—childhood compared to his
own.
Afterward, he had been dragged into The Worm's conspiracies and manipulated,
eventually losing his sanity and letting obsession take the wheel due to his
over-reliance on [Fallen Demon].
With the internal hallucinations suppressed, Kiryu would no longer mistake
others for Tokita Niko, meaning he would no longer attack innocent bystanders.
As for the road ahead of him, Kiryu would have to walk it on his own.
—Though the guy was still undeniably a pain in the ass.
That night.
In the Tokita Niko District, beside the crackling campfire.
Ren Shiroki, Fusui Kure, Takeshi Wakatsuki, Ryo Inaba, Tokita Niko, Yoshinari
Karo, and J. Guevara sat huddled together, devouring a steaming pot of stew
accompanied by Yoshinari Karo's specialty grilled fish, thoroughly satisfying
their appetites.
Regarding the commercial operations tied to Yoshinari's fishing port, the
logistics were already moving forward smoothly. Many Kengan Association members
were more than happy to build a connection, and the paperwork would likely clear
before long.
The taciturn old fisherman didn't give a grand speech; he simply bowed his head
repeatedly to express his gratitude, locking that deep, abiding—
—Gratitude firmly within his heart.
Ren had picked up quite a few scrapes.
Mostly surface-level abrasions, including a few on his face, courtesy of the
concrete floor, the bricks that had buried him, and the heavy boots of his
friends who had inadvertently stepped on him while digging him out.
Fusui chuckled guiltily as she carefully applied antiseptic ointment to Ren's
face.
"Sorry, sorry—"
The young girl laughed dryly. "I honestly didn't expect Ren-chin to get blasted
away like that. I was too distracted watching Mr. Oliva; he made such a huge,
dramatic howl."
"..."
Tokita Niko chimed in, recounting the whole sequence from Oliva showing off his
handkerchief to Guevara hawking a loogie straight onto it, explaining every
single detail from start to finish.
Ren grinned, flashing a mouthful of teeth. "Oliva and his girlfriend really are
deeply in love."
Fusui nodded. "Yeah, so deep they're even cohabitating in prison."
At that, the entire group froze once more.
"The hell~~~!?"
Even Guevara dropped his jaw in sheer disbelief. "——Cohabitating?? In prison?"
"My grandfather told me about it."
Fusui continued dabbing ointment on Ren's face, reminiscing, "According to
intelligence gathered by the Kure clan—"
"Over in Arizona State Penitentiary—a place nicknamed 'America's Black
Pentagon'—Mr. Oliva and his girlfriend are living together."
"That prison is essentially Mr. Oliva's private kingdom. Whether it's priceless
paintings, classical sculptures, custom luxury quarters, gourmet food, fine
wine, or endless shelves of books, he has infinite access to all of it."
"And inside that prison, completely devoid of traditional restrictions, he even
has his girlfriend by his side."
"..."
Guevara found the claim impossible to wrap his head around.
He furrowed his brow. "If Oliva is serving time as an inmate, what kind of
sentence is he actually serving? What is he supposed to be paying back, or
reflecting on?"
Ohma raised an eyebrow, jumping into the conversation. "Rehabilitation, paying
back debts—words like that don't even exist in that muscle-bound brute's
dictionary, do they?"
"Hmph..."
Guevara tossed a dry twig into the campfire, turning his gaze toward Fusui. "So,
what kind of woman is his girlfriend anyway?"
"No idea."
Fusui's response threw everyone for another loop.
"That rumor has been circulating for years, but Mr. Oliva is the only one who's
ever claimed it. Everyone else just heard it second-hand."
"Not a single inmate we've managed to contact has ever laid eyes on this
mysterious girlfriend."
"Even the warden and the prison guards—the ones most likely to know the
truth—are completely tight-lipped. No matter how much money you offer, they
refuse to give a straight answer."
"..."
"Does she even exist?"
Guevara crossed his arms, lowering his head in deep thought. "And considering
how obsessed Oliva is with her, she's supposed to be an peerless beauty?"
"Surely not..."
Guevara tilted his head, eyeing Fusui skeptically. "Don't tell me... the
descriptions of her peerless, otherworldly beauty also come entirely out of
Oliva's own mouth?"
Fusui nodded, confirming Guevara's suspicion.
Guevara narrowed his eyes into a wry, helpless smile. "Hmph, it's a total
fabrication..."
"The great [Unchained] probably just hallucinated a non-existent lover purely so
he could flex his absolute 'freedom' inside a prison cell."
"He cooked up the story just to make the legend of Mr. Unchained sound even more
airtight."
"..."
Hearing that hypothesis, many of the surrounding gang members exchanged uneasy
glances.
If they had dared to run their mouths like that, and word ever made it back to
Oliva, they would probably be murdered on the spot by those absurd,
gravity-defying muscles...
However, coming from [The Second] J. Guevara—a man who practically qualified as
an "Unchained" in his own right—the argument carried immense weight.
Similarly, very few people alive possessed the standing to dispute Guevara's
assessment.
"No, she's real."
Ren, having finally finished getting his face patched up by Fusui, turned his
head to stare straight into the flickering flames of the campfire.
"Old man Oliva's girlfriend is the real deal."
"Oh?"
Guevara looked mildly surprised. "Don't tell me you've got insider intelligence,
or—heaven forbid—you've actually met his girlfriend?"
Instead of answering directly, Ren just dropped into a tired, deadpan slouch.
"Believe whatever you want!"
He snatched a piece of grilled fish, tearing into it with his teeth. "Once you
reach a level like his, whatever you decide is 'real' becomes absolute truth
because nobody's around to prove you wrong. That's just the kind of weight your
existence carries."
"——Fair enough."
Guevara grunted in acknowledgment, rubbing his nose. "So, is that the kind of
conviction you draw on to throw punches like the ones you do?"
"Anyway, true or false doesn't really matter..."
Guevara stood up, walked over to the storage cabinet beside his sleeping
quarters, and reached up to an upper compartment, retrieving a wooden-stoppered
glass bottle roughly the size of two palms cradled together.
He handled it with the tender care one might reserve for a newborn child.
"That arrogant old-timer from the first generation strutted into The Inside just
to flex his 'verbal freedom,' which frankly made for a pretty boring spectacle."
"Whether it's freedom inside a cage or freedom inside The Inside, whatever Oliva
thinks he has... to me, it's completely inadequate."
"I'm going to make all of you—Oliva included—understand one simple thing..."
"True freedom is raw, violent, and overwhelming! It's packed with torrential
rain, howling gales, crashing tidal waves, and cracking thunder—it's that kind
of explosive, unrestrained scale!"
Time slipped by, and two days vanished into the wind.
In the wake of that sudden, massive multi-faction brawl and the fallout from the
external invaders, the geopolitical landscape of The Inside underwent a seismic
shift.
The Fourth Turtle District fell completely silent.
As for the division of the remaining territories:
[The Second] J. Guevara commanded the Three Horsemen: Tokita Niko, Paklong, and
Tiger Niko (acting as placeholders/allies);
[The Unchained] Biscuit Oliva claimed the Tokita Niko District and a massive
swath of the Underground District;
[The Devil Lance] Gensai Kuroki pacified the Six Spiders and brought the Five
Bears to heel;
[The Monster] Raian Kure butchered his way through the Nine Scorpions and
intimidated the Eight Eagles into submission;
[The Soul Combatant] Ren Shiroki held firm over the Three Wolves.
With these shifts settling in, the relative balance of power across the various
districts finally stabilized. The criminal elements who had originally planned
to ignite a massive riot didn't dare stick their heads out, choosing to lay low
instead.
Following that stabilization came the movement of the heavyweights.
Some powerful fighters wanted nothing to do with the external invaders, choosing
to retreat into self-imposed seclusion for various reasons, hiding themselves
away from the world.
Meanwhile, the restless, battle-hungry fighters refused to remain tucked away in
peaceful sectors, choosing instead to migrate toward the heart of The Inside,
converging upon the sole remaining theater of war—
The Conflict Zone.
It was the absolute epicenter of The Inside, the crossroads where the borders of
all major districts bled into one another, and historically the most violent
battleground. Now, it had transformed into a literal playground for the world's
strongest fighters.
Ascetics and martial artists traveled there to temper their skills, while the
surviving foreign invaders likewise gravitated toward its center of gravity.
An invisible, suffocating premonition settled over the air—
The undisputed strongest fighter in The Inside was about to be crowned right
here!
☆☆☆
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