Chapter 469: Iiyer-Yah-Ha—!!
"Iiyer-yah-ha!!"
Sprawled face-down against the perimeter wall, his head turned toward the
masonry and his back to the sky, J. Guevara erupted into a rhythmic, bouncing
melody. Even without musical accompaniment, he projected his voice with
unbridled force.
"In the moonlight shining bright—"
"Iiyer-yah-ha!"
"Heave! Ho! Weigh the anchor!"
"Iiyer-yah-ha——!"
"In the middle of a stormy night, iiyer-yah-ha——"
"Hoist the mainsail, iiyer-yah-ha!"
"With the stars to guide our way, iiyer-yah-ha—"
"Chasing treasure day by day, iiyer-yah-ha!"
"Save the rum until we're back ashore, iiyer-yah-ha—"
"Heat the iron, stoke the core, iiyer-yah-ha!"
Guevara hummed the sea shanty as he sang.
It was a sailor's work-song! A pirate's chanty!
Rhythm, power, weight, unbridled wildness, magnetic charisma—all of it exploded
outward in a single wave!
He clenched both fists tight, scooping up a handful of dirt in each hand before
launching himself off the ground, spinning to face the crowd as his body moved
in strict synchronization with the cadence of his song.
During a brief pause to catch his breath—
Swish!
Guevara slammed the dust from both hands directly against his own face, mixing
the grit and dirt seamlessly with his fresh, flowing blood.
With all ten fingers flying across his skin, he painted his features with savage
efficiency.
Finally, he ripped the bandana off his forehead, hoisting it high into the air
with one hand to let the autumn breeze catch it as he spun to face the entire
plaza.
"..."
In that exact moment, everyone saw it clear as day—
Guevara's entire face was smeared with a terrifying warpaint of blood and mud,
carved into a high-impact, intensely charismatic theater mask that looked even
more visceral and soul-shaking than the one he had worn against the Caracal!
The spectators couldn't help swallowing hard in unison.
"What on earth..."
"It's the Second's Ogre Visage!"
"He's using his own bleeding wounds as paint for his war mask!"
"The Second is still standing!"
Over at the perimeter, Raian Kure crossed his arms, tilting his head with a cold
snort. "Tch, he could've gotten serious way sooner instead of messing around!"
"Hmm, precisely."
Gensai Kuroki nodded. "Do not underestimate him. From here on out is the true
Second... the true J. Guevara!"
"Discard humility and courtesy—throw away patience and silence! Do not surrender
to the trap of feeling satisfied~!"
"And let me keep shouting—I am still not satisfied!"
His fingers uncurled, letting the bandana slip from his grip and float away in
the wind to land on the distant ground.
Humming the sea shanty, Guevara massaged his jaw, which had nearly been
dislocated by the previous blow, before exploding forward in a low sprint that
kicked up a veil of dust.
"Iiyer-yah——"
Whoosh—!
"Ha!!"
Roaring at the top of his lungs, Guevara planted his left foot deep into the
earth and whipped his right leg outward, driving a ferocious roundhouse kick
straight toward Ren.
——!!
Ren's gaze locked instantly. Snapping his fists upward, he crossed his forearms
into a tight, vertical guard, compressing his entire frame and dropping his
center of gravity to the absolute floor, adopting Guile's defensive posture.
KABOOM——!
Guevara's toe struck like a thick pillar of light, slamming into Ren's crossed
forearms and setting off a concussive shockwave that blasted outward across the
plaza.
"Ugh?!"
Ren gritted his teeth, feeling as though both of his arms had momentarily
detached from his shoulders. The sheer kinetic force swept him off his feet,
launching him backwards through the air for a dozen meters.
Crash-la—!
Ren hit the ground sliding, his back carving deep trenches into the earth as he
drifted skyward, kicking up thick waves of smoke and dust.
"Gah——!"
He coughed up blood from the concussive rattle, baring his teeth in a wince as
his arms hung limp and useless at his sides, the skin over his forearms visibly
red and swollen.
Guevara stood firm in the center of the plaza, his medium-long hair dancing in
the gale, the warpaint across his face radiating an intensely vibrant life
force.
The surrounding crowd erupted into rolling waves of cheers.
"The counterattack begins!"
"The Second's Ogre Visage is out!"
"Can Ren Shiroki keep going?"
"Guevara! Guevara! Guevara!!"
"..."
The roaring chants washed over the plaza like a surging tide, fierce enough to
make the very ocean feel like it was boiling over.
After sucking in a few ragged breaths, Ren snapped back up into a kip-up, though
his footing wobbled and his arms trembled uncontrollably.
Lifting his eyes to lock onto Guevara, he exhaled a massive plume of hot white
steam.
"Nice. That's perfect!"
Gritting his teeth, Ren forced his spine straight, locking eyes with Guevara
without yielding a single inch of presence.
"I almost forgot, but a proper 'street bight' is supposed to be like this..."
"Sure, it draws a crowd, but you don't fight for the cheers; you fight to put
your opponent down, and the cheers are just a byproduct that follows along the
way."
Snap—
Ren smoothly pivoted into a side-stance, his left hand open and pressing
downward, his left shoulder hiked slightly while his right fist remained tucked
tight against his ribs, his core twitching rhythmically to the cadence of his
breath.
"I was this close to getting blinded by the decorations and forgetting the
simple joy of walking the path itself. That was close."
"..."
Guevara's eyes widened slightly, his gaze growing even sharper beneath the
painted ogre mask.
"I see. You're the type of man who cares exclusively about the journey."
"My apologies. I underestimated you."
Guevara lowered his center of gravity. "I figured you were just some
city-slicker martial artist, so I didn't come out swinging with everything I had
from the start."
"I foolishly assumed you were merely drilling muscle and technique, not worth my
full, unreserved effort..."
"I'm sorry!"
As the last word left his lips, the wind swirling around the plaza picked up,
howling with rapidly escalating ferocity.
"Look, just as we predicted—"
"The wind has risen."
Guevara extended his left index finger, pressing it briefly against his lips to
moisten it with saliva before holding it up to let the breeze flow over his
skin, reading the direction and velocity.
A confident smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Mm, today's a good day to
die."
A brilliant, piercing light ignited deep within Ren's pupils. "——Is that so?"
"That's right."
Guevara exploded forward into a low charge, barking out his catchphrase once
more: "——It's a great day to die!"
Swish!
His speed was truly blinding. In the blink of an eye, he had closed the distance
to Ren, lashing out with a left hook from low to high that felt like it carried
the wrath of an incoming thunderstorm!
Whack-la!
Watching the heavy blow close in, Ren dropped hard into a sudden retreat,
utilizing Ed's [Kill Step] to slide backward out of range while simultaneously
winding up his right arm for a [Relaxation]-infused strike.
Thud!
Ren slammed his foot against the earth, surging back forward while throwing a
lightning-fast rear straight.
[ED: PSYCHO STRIKE]!
Swish!
Guevara dropped into a ducking crouch, evading the punch by a microscopic margin
before sliding laterally and reappearing right at Ren's flank in a blur.
Ren's obsidian eyes darted, locking immovably onto Guevara's shifting
silhouette. Tensing his calves like coiled springs, he burst into a high-speed
pursuit.
[DRIVE RUSH]!
Whoosh!
Sensing Ren closing in, Guevara whipped a low sweep toward Ren's lead left
ankle, aiming to flip him off balance.
Ren made a split-second executive decision: treating Guevara's sweeping leg as a
solid "boulder," he applied parkour footwork principles, opting to vault
sideways instead of jumping straight up.
His legs split wide in mid-air, maximizing both flexibility and angular balance
to neutralize the sweep.
[RASHID: SIDE FLIP]!
Whisk!
The agile lateral vault allowed Ren to cleanly bypass the sweep and reset his
distance from Guevara.
The moment his feet touched the earth—before he even had time to settle his
weight—he spotted Guevara charging right back at him, winding up a crushing
right hook.
"What—?!"
Ren raised a knee to check, hastily retreating while trading punches and kicks
with Guevara on the fly.
Whether it was the execution of their strikes or the high-frequency footwork
mapping their advance and retreat, both men maintained a blinding tempo that
would leave anyone blinking out of frame if they looked away for even a second.
Their velocity was pushed to the absolute limit, careening continuously back and
forth across the dozens-of-meters-wide open plaza.
Their stomping boots pulverized the dirt and sand into churning clouds of dust!
Simultaneously, an overhead satellite tracking Guevara's GPS coordinates
registered a sudden, sustained movement spike exceeding 4km/h.
As a direct consequence, this triggered a global-scale GPS drift error!
Automobile drivers cruising along distant highways suddenly watched in
bewilderment as their navigation maps glitched, jumping erratically across
mountains, oceans, and even over the rooftops of skyscrapers!
Tap! Tap! Tap!
Guevara executed a rapid lateral slide, his boots scarring the dirt.
As he closed back in on Ren—at the exact microsecond that should have been the
most ill-suited for an offensive strike—
He casually plucked a short hair straight out of his own stubble, held it up to
his lips, and blew hard, aiming directly at Ren's left eye.
Whoosh!
The microscopic hair darted through the air.
At the exact same time, Guevara charged forward under the cover of the flying
hair, cocking his right hook as he prepared to launch an explosive, rising
assault.
He wanted to exploit this counter-intuitive ambush to crack Ren's defensive
shell!
Yet, the moment the hair darted out, closing in on Ren's right eye, Ren simply
narrowed his eyelids, letting the hair pierce directly into his eyelid,
producing a sharp, stinging prick.
Oh, Dorian used that exact trick once. I gotta thank Retsu Kaioh for drilling me
on this—
Ren thought to himself.
"Shrah—!"
He let out a sharp bark, immediately counter-attacking.
Clenching both fists tight and pulling them back into a tight guard, he targeted
the approaching Guevara, unleashing a rapid, ambidextrous volley of high-speed
punches.
Supreme Art—
[LUKE: VULCAN BLAST]!
Thump-thump-thump-thump!
Solid, physical punches infused with the "invisible kinetic pressure" of the
[Drive] system erupted outward like a localized sandstorm, beating Guevara to
the punch and blasting straight toward his face.
☆☆☆
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