**Chapter 11: The First Real Fight Against Each Other – Inter-High Prelims Rematch (Age 14, National Qualifiers)**
The national qualifiers for the Inter-High boxing tournament are held in a cavernous arena on the outskirts of Tokyo—concrete walls echoing every shout, ring lights harsh and unforgiving, the smell of rosin and adrenaline thick enough to choke on. Bleachers rise in steep tiers, filled with scouts from high-school federations, college recruiters, and a handful of pro gym representatives who showed up after word of the "Itagaki twins draw" spread like wildfire. The bracket is single-elimination now. No room for draws. Winner advances to nationals. Loser goes home.
You and Manabu are seeded high after the district finals. The organizers, perhaps sensing drama, placed you on a collision course: if both win their paths, the finals will be twin versus twin again—this time with a national ticket on the line.
Semifinals day. Morning weigh-in: both of you 58 kg even—featherweight limit. Manabu looks leaner, sharper. You look the same—calm, coiled, eyes half-lidded.
Your semi: against Nakamura from Saitama Commercial High. Tall, rangy southpaw, known for awkward angles and piston jabs. He's nervous—keeps glancing at the Itagaki name on the bracket sheet.
Bell rings.
Nakamura circles wide, jabs probing. You stay center, guard loose, feet flat. His first real cross comes looping. You slip inside, land a short left hook to the ribs. He gasps. You don't press—let him recover, let him think he has a chance.
Round one: measured. You output 42%. Jab exchanges favor you in weight, him in reach. A clean counter right to his body makes him wince. Crowd murmurs approval.
Round two: he opens up. Flurry of hooks. You weave, parry, counter with an uppercut that snaps his head back. Blood from his nose. Ref checks. Continues. He charges. You pivot, land a cross that staggers him into ropes. He clinches. Ref separates.
Round three: you walk forward. Jab feint, step-in right straight—solar plexus. Air leaves him. Left hook follows—temple. He drops. Ref counts to eight. He rises, legs unsteady. Final combination: jab-cross-hook. Hook lands flush. He crumples. TKO at 1:48.
The arena roars. Scouts scribble.
Manabu's semi is next. Opponent: aggressive pressure-fighter from Kanagawa. Manabu dismantles him with surgical speed—slips, counters, body-head combinations. Stoppage in round two via referee stoppage after a vicious liver shot.
Finals. Twin rematch. National ticket.
The announcer's voice booms: "For the final spot at the Inter-High National Championships—Itagaki Ryouta versus Itagaki Manabu!"
Gloves touch. Manabu's eyes burn—determined, no smile this time. Yours mirror the Takamura smirk.
"No holding back," he says quietly.
"None," you reply.
Bell.
Manabu launches—Chronos unleashed. Jab feint, right straight blazing. You slip, counter hook. He ducks, circles lightning-fast. Crowd erupts at the speed. You match—50% now. Jab to jab. His blur. Yours thud. A clean cross from him clips your jaw. Stars flicker. You answer with a body shot that folds him slightly.
Round one: war. Manabu's volume high—punches land clean. You absorb, counter heavier. A rising uppercut lifts his chin. He staggers but recovers, fires a flurry. You block most, eat a hook to the ribs. Pain blooms—real pain. You grin through it.
Judges even.
Round two: you climb to 60%. Hybrid style flows—outbox feint into infight rush. Jab draws guard high, right straight crashes into solar plexus. Manabu exhales sharply, knees buckling. He clinches. Ref separates. He comes back furious—speed demon mode. Punches rain like machine-gun fire. You weave, slip, land a counter cross that opens a cut under his eye. Blood sprays. Crowd screams.
He presses. You counter. A left hook from you catches his temple. His legs wobble. He drops to one knee.
Ref counts.
Manabu rises at seven, eyes blazing. Last minute: pure fury. Trading bombs—hook for hook, straight for straight. A right from him snaps your head back. You taste copper. You answer with an uppercut that lifts him off his feet for a split second. He lands, staggers, fires back.
Bell rings.
Both chests heaving. Faces swollen. Blood on gloves.
Round three: no restraint. 70% from you. Bear Slayer regeneration dulls the damage, keeps you sharp. Manabu's speed holds—impossibly. He feints low, springs with a right straight. You parry, step in, unleash a three-punch combo: jab-cross-hook. Hook lands flush on the jaw.
Manabu's head snaps sideways. His guard drops. You could finish.
Instead you pause—one heartbeat.
He straightens, fires a desperate hook. It clips your ear. You counter—short right to the body. He doubles over. Left uppercut follows—chin. His eyes glaze.
He drops.
Ref counts.
One. Two. Three…
Manabu pushes up at eight. Legs shaking. Eyes locked on yours—twin fire.
Last thirty seconds: everything. Manabu summons one final burst—Chronos at full throttle. Punches blur. You block, slip, counter. A hook from him lands clean on your cheekbone. Bone cracks faintly. You ignore. Step in. Right straight—solar plexus. He gasps. Left hook—temple.
He falls again.
Ref waves it off at nine. TKO.
The arena explodes—deafening.
You drop to your knees beside him. Manabu is already sitting up, dazed but conscious. Ref raises your hand. Crowd chants both names.
Manabu looks up, bloodied smile breaking through.
"You… didn't finish me quick."
"Couldn't," you rasp. "Needed you to go all out."
He laughs weakly. You help him stand. Arms around each other's shoulders. Both hands raised together—winner and brother.
Scouts swarm. Cameras flash. Coach Nakamura wipes his eyes in the corner.
Back in the locker room, ice packs, adrenaline fading to exhaustion. Manabu leans against the wall, breathing shallow.
"That was the real thing," he says. "No holding back."
You nod, bruised jaw throbbing. "Nationals next. Together."
The system panel ignites.
**Special Event Quest: "First True Twin Clash – National Qualifiers" Complete**
**Power revealed: 72% peak**
**Reward: +2,000 SP**
**New Passive Unlocked: "Twin Apex Bond" (Level 1)**
**Effect:** When fighting Manabu in official competition, both receive +25% all stats. Post-fight recovery +40% when together. Growth synergy triples for one month after such bouts.
**Achievement: "First Defeat of Chronos"**
**Reward: +800 SP | "Chronos Counter" skill shard (passive – +30% effectiveness against high-speed opponents; auto-adapts to Manabu-level velocity).**
**Title Upgraded: "Itagaki Twins – Unmatched" → "Itagaki Twins – Unyielding"**
**Bonus:** National qualification secured. +500 SP.
Manabu watches the invisible panel. "Good stuff?"
"Very."
He grins through split lip. "Next time I win."
You bump fists. "Next time we both win something bigger."
Outside, night air cool on battered skin. You walk to the station together—bruised, bloodied, unbreakable.
Nationals await.
And the Bear God just proved he can drop even Chronos.
But only because he's family.
**Chapter 12: Nationals – First National Stage, First National Statement (Age 14, Inter-High National Championships)**
The Inter-High National Boxing Championships are held in Osaka's Prefectural Gymnasium—a massive, echoing arena with tiered seating for thousands, spotlights cutting through haze, the roar of the crowd hitting like a wall every time the bell rings. Banners from all forty-seven prefectures hang from the rafters. The air smells of tape, sweat, and instant ramen from the concession stands. Scouts from every major amateur federation sit ringside with notepads and stopwatches. Pro gym representatives from Tokyo, Osaka, and even a few from overseas lurk in the shadows. This is where high-school boxing dreams either ignite or die.
You and Manabu qualified through the brutal Tokyo qualifiers. Manabu as runner-up in the district draw, then winner of the national ticket in the rematch. You as champion. Both featherweights. Both seeded in the top eight. The bracket draw puts you on opposite sides again—fate insisting on drama. If both win to the final, it will be twin versus twin on national television.
First round. Your opponent: Tanaka from Hokkaido. Stocky, orthodox, nicknamed "Snow Bear" for his relentless pressure and heavy hooks. He's the regional champ up north, built like a small tank.
Weigh-in: 57.8 kg. You stare across the scale. He smirks. You don't.
Ring walk under bright lights. Crowd noise swells. Announcer booms your name. Manabu waits in your corner—second for you today, Coach Nakamura handling his fights.
Bell.
Tanaka charges. Hooks wide. You circle, jab sharp, keep range. His first real left crashes into your guard—solid thud. You feel the weight. You counter with a check hook that snaps his head. He presses harder.
Round one: pressure cooker. You output 55%—higher than any school fight. Jab to body slows him. Cross to head opens a small cut. Crowd cheers every clean connection.
Round two: he corners you. Flurry. You slip most, eat a hook to ribs. Pain flares. Bear Slayer regeneration dulls it instantly. You pivot, unleash short combination—jab-cross-uppercut. Uppercut lifts his chin. He staggers. You step in, liver shot. He drops to a knee.
Ref counts. He rises at six. Last minute: you walk him down. Jab feint, right straight—solar plexus. He folds. Left hook—temple. He crashes. Ref stops it at seven.
TKO. Crowd erupts. "Itagaki! Itagaki!"
Manabu's first round is next. Opponent: quick southpaw from Fukuoka. Manabu's speed overwhelms—slips, counters, body work. Stoppage in round three via cuts.
Quarterfinals. Your opponent: Miyata Ichiro from Kanagawa. Lean, orthodox, glasses off for the fight, eyes cold and calculating. Already whispered as future pro material. His jab is laser-precise.
Bell.
Miyata circles, jabs testing. You match pace—60%. Jab exchanges even. His faster. Yours heavier. He feints, drops low. You parry, counter hook. He slips, answers with a straight that clips your cheek.
Round one: chess match. Crowd hushed. Every punch measured. You land a clean body shot. He grimaces but recovers.
Round two: he opens. One-two-three. You weave, counter cross. Blood from his nose. He presses. You clinch briefly. Ref separates. You step in—uppercut grazes. He backs off.
Round three: both tired. Miyata feints high, goes low. You read it, pivot, unleash right straight—chin. His head snaps. Legs buckle. He drops.
Ref counts to ten.
TKO. Arena shakes. Miyata's corner stunned.
Manabu's quarterfinal: pressure-fighter from Kyoto. Manabu dances, picks him apart. Stoppage in round two.
Semifinals. Your opponent: the Hokkaido regional champ again—no, different. A tall counter-puncher from Nagoya. "Ghost" Hayashi from earlier tournaments, now grown. He's faster, sharper.
Bell.
Hayashi vanishes—slips every punch. You circle, probe. He counters clean—right to jaw. Stars. You shake it off, press. Jab feint, step-in hook. He ducks, answers uppercut. You block.
Round one: cat-and-mouse. You output 65%. Land body shots that slow him.
Round two: you explode—short rush. Jab-cross-hook. Hook lands flush. He staggers. You follow—liver, temple. He drops. Ref counts eight. He rises.
Round three: desperate. He flurries. You slip, counter. Final right straight—solar plexus. He crumples. Ref waves off.
National final secured.
Manabu's semi: against a southpaw speedster from Osaka. Manabu matches speed for speed—blinding exchanges. Stoppage in round three via referee after vicious combination.
Final. Twin versus twin. National title on the line.
Announcer: "For the Inter-High National Featherweight Championship—Itagaki Ryouta versus Itagaki Manabu!"
Gloves touch. Manabu's eyes fierce—no hesitation. Yours calm, arrogant.
"Full power," he says.
"Full power," you reply.
Bell.
Manabu launches—Chronos at maximum. Jab blur, right straight blazing. You slip, counter hook—70%. He ducks, circles. Crowd screams. Speed versus hybrid power.
Round one: war. Manabu's volume insane—punches land clean. You absorb, counter heavier. Uppercut lifts him. He lands on toes, fires back.
Judges even.
Round two: you climb—80%. Bear Slayer Mode not yet, but close. Hybrid rush: feint, step-in, right straight crashes ribs. Manabu gasps. He clinches. Ref separates. He answers flurry—hook to cheek. Bone cracks. You grin through blood.
You counter—left hook temple. He staggers. Drops to knee.
Ref counts. He rises at seven.
Last minute: trading bombs. Hook for hook. Straight for straight.
Round three: both exhausted. Manabu summons final burst—pure speed. You activate.
**Bear Slayer Mode – Activated**
Power triples. World slows. You surge—short right straight to chin. Manabu's head snaps. He staggers back. You follow—liver shot, uppercut.
He drops hard.
Ref counts.
One. Two…
Manabu pushes up at nine. Legs trembling. Eyes locked—twin refusal to quit.
Last twenty seconds: everything left. Manabu fires desperate straight. You parry, unleash final combination—jab-cross-hook-uppercut.
Uppercut lands flush.
Manabu collapses.
Ref waves it off at ten.
National champion: Itagaki Ryouta.
Arena detonates—deafening.
You drop beside him. Manabu sits up, dazed, smiling through blood.
"You… won."
"You made me earn it."
You help him stand. Both hands raised—champion and brother. Crowd chants both names.
Coach, Ippo (watching from stands), scouts, reporters swarm.
Locker room later: ice, silence, pride.
Manabu: "Nationals. We did it."
You: "We're just starting."
System panel ignites.
**Major Event Quest: "National Crown – First Blood" Complete**
**Power revealed: 92% peak**
**Reward: +3,500 SP**
**Passive Unlocked: "National Statement" (Level 1)**
**Effect:** +30% growth speed for six months after major title win. Opponents in future bouts receive -15% morale on hearing your name.
**Achievement: "First National Defeat of Chronos – Public"**
**Reward: +1,200 SP | "Almighty Featherweight Aura" passive (Level 1) – +20% intimidation in national/pro-level bouts.**
**Title Earned: "Inter-High National Featherweight Champion"**
**Bonus:** +1,000 SP | One free Technique Shard choice from Takamura's arsenal (unlocked at Level 50).
Manabu watches. "Big rewards?"
"Big everything."
Outside, Osaka night lights glitter. You walk out together—bruised, crowned, unbreakable.
The national stage has been claimed.
And the pro world is next.
**Chapter 13: Kamogawa Gym After Nationals – The New Hierarchy & Takamura's Test (Age 14, Late Summer)**
Osaka's victory glow lingers like smoke after fireworks. You return to Kamogawa Gym two days after the nationals final, Inter-High gold medal tucked in your gym bag next to sweat-soaked wraps. The train ride back to Tokyo was quiet—Manabu slept against the window most of the way, face still swollen, breathing shallow through a split lip. You stared at passing lights, replaying every punch, every drop, every rise. The system had already tallied the haul: over five thousand SP banked, new passives humming, the national title etched into your stat sheet like a permanent buff.
The gym door creaks open at 5:45 a.m. Lights are already on. Coach Kamogawa stands at the heavy bag, mitts on, waiting. Ippo is shadowboxing in the corner—faster now, sharper, the Japanese champion title still fresh on his shoulders but no longer new. Aoki and Kimura pause mid-sparring drill, gloves lowered. Takamura leans against the ring post, arms crossed, cigarette unlit between his lips for once.
Silence falls the second you and Manabu step inside.
Coach speaks first. "Champions."
He doesn't smile. Just nods once—deep respect in the single word.
Ippo turns, eyes wide. "Ryouta… you really did it. National champ."
Aoki whistles low. "And dropped your own twin in the final. Brutal."
Kimura scratches his head. "Manabu looked like he was fighting a bear."
Manabu rubs the back of his neck, sheepish. "He is a bear."
Takamura pushes off the post. Slow steps. Stops in front of you. Looks down—still towering, still wild-haired, still radiating that effortless menace.
"Inter-High gold at fourteen." His voice is low, amused. "Not bad, Ore-sama Junior. Not bad at all."
You meet his gaze. No smirk this time—just steady.
"First of many."
He studies you a long moment. Then grins—sharp, feral.
"Prove it."
He jerks his head toward the ring.
"Both of you. Gloves on. No headgear. Three rounds each. Me versus the twins. One after the other. No breaks between."
Coach frowns. "Takamura—"
"Shut it, old man. They're national champs now. Time to see if the medal weighs anything."
Manabu glances at you. You nod once.
Gloves laced. Mouthguards in. You climb the ropes first.
Takamura steps in opposite. Shirt off. No wraps visible—bare knuckles under thin tape. He bounces lightly, rolling shoulders.
"Bear God versus the Almighty. Let's see who roars louder."
Bell—Coach taps the bucket.
Takamura doesn't rush. Walks forward like gravity bends for him. Jab probes—lazy, testing. You slip, counter hook. He parries without looking, answers with a short right that grazes your guard. The force vibrates up your arms.
You circle. Output 75%. Jab feint, step-in cross. He slips, counters uppercut. You block—barely. Pain jolts elbow to shoulder.
Round one: chess with sledgehammers. He presses. You counter. Every exchange feels like hitting a wall that hits back harder. A clean hook from him catches your ribs—air leaves. You retaliate—liver shot. He exhales sharply but grins wider.
Round two: you climb—85%. Hybrid rush: outbox feint into infight. Jab draws guard, right straight crashes ribs. He grunts—first real sound. He answers flurry—hook-hook-cross. You weave most, eat the cross on cheekbone. Bone creaks. Blood in mouth.
You activate briefly—Bear Slayer Mode five seconds. Surge forward. Uppercut grazes his chin. His head snaps half an inch. Eyes widen fractionally.
He laughs mid-punch. "There it is."
Mode cuts. Stamina dips hard.
Round three: war. He opens—80% maybe. Punches blur. You block, slip, counter. A left hook from him lands flush—temple. World tilts. You stagger. He presses. You clinch—force of will. Ref separates.
Last minute: desperation. You unleash everything short of full mode—right straight, left hook, uppercut chain. He blocks most, eats the uppercut clean. Head rocks. He staggers one step.
Bell.
Both breathing hard. Takamura lowers gloves, grins through a small cut on his lip.
"Not bad, kid. Made me bleed. First time in three years."
He turns to Manabu. "Your turn, Flash."
Manabu climbs in. Takamura doesn't reset—same stance, same grin.
Manabu moves—Chronos speed. Jab blur, right straight. Takamura parries, counters hook. Manabu ducks, circles. Speed clashes with power.
Three rounds pass in a storm. Manabu lands more—volume advantage—but Takamura's counters carry murder weight. A body shot from Takamura folds Manabu briefly. He rises, fires back. Ends with both standing, bruised, respectful.
Bell final.
Takamura steps back, rolls neck. "Both of you… not trash anymore."
He climbs out, lights the cigarette finally. Exhales toward ceiling.
"From tomorrow, new training menu. Twins together every session. I'll handle mitts personally. You want to chase me? Catch up first."
Coach nods approval. Ippo stares in awe. Aoki and Kimura mutter about monsters.
Later—locker room, ice packs, quiet.
Manabu: "He bled."
You: "We made him bleed."
System panel flares.
**Special Training Quest: "Test of the Almighty" Complete**
**Rounds survived vs Takamura (combined): 6/6**
**Damage inflicted: Minor (lip cut + rib bruise)**
**Reward: +2,800 SP**
**Passive Upgraded: "Takamura's Personal Recognition" → Level 2**
**Effect:** +75% growth speed under his direct supervision. +25% intimidation aura when he is present.
**New Skill Shard Unlocked: "Cockroach Step" (evasive footwork – Takamura signature)**
**Achievement: "Drew Blood from the Hawk"**
**Reward: +1,000 SP | "Almighty's Respect" passive (Level 1) – Takamura treats you as equal rival in private training. +30% learning speed for his techniques.**
Manabu watches. "He's going to train us himself."
You flex taped hands. "Good. We need it."
Outside, late summer dusk. Cicadas still screaming. You walk home side by side—bruised, bloodied, elevated.
The gym hierarchy shifted today.
The national champ and his twin brother are no longer rookies.
They're contenders.
And the Almighty just acknowledged it.
Tomorrow, mitt work under Takamura's gloves.
The real climb begins.
**Chapter 14: The First Pro Debut Night – Twin KOs, Twin Spotlights (Age 18, Spring 1993)**
Four years vanish in a blur of sweat, blood, and escalating pain. The national gold medal from age fourteen turned into a stepping stone, then a footnote. High school ended quietly—no university for either twin. Manabu declared pro the day after graduation. You stood beside him in the living room, facing your pun-cracking father and quiet mother, and said the same words: "We're both going pro. Kamogawa Gym. Full time."
Dad's worst pun yet: "Two pros? That's 'double the punch-line'!"
You and Manabu groaned in sync. Mom hugged you both so tight your ribs ached more than any spar.
Now it's spring 1993. You're eighteen. Featherweight limit: 57.15 kg. Both of you made weight easily at the morning weigh-in—57.1 kg each. Identical black hair tied back, identical sharp eyes, identical calm before the storm.
The venue is Korakuen Hall—Tokyo's legendary boxing cathedral. Dim lights, smoke haze, the roar of three thousand fans packed shoulder-to-shoulder. The ring canvas is pristine white, ropes taut, spotlights cutting sharp circles. Tonight's undercard features several pro debuts, but the posters plastered outside scream the main attraction:
**ITAGAKI TWINS PRO DEBUT DOUBLEHEADER**
**Manabu Itagaki vs. Kenji Sato (4-rounder)**
**Ryouta Itagaki vs. Hiroshi Yamamoto (4-rounder)**
Media buzz has been building for weeks. "The national high-school champ who dropped his own twin." "The speed demon called Flash." "Two monsters from Kamogawa." Scouts from every major stable sit ringside. Even a few WBC and WBA officials in the VIP rows.
Backstage locker room smells of liniment and nerves. Manabu sits on the bench, gloves already laced, bouncing lightly on his toes. You stand across from him, wrapping your own hands—slow, deliberate.
"Same night," Manabu says quietly. "Same ring. Same debut."
You flex taped knuckles. "Same ending. Both walk out with wins."
He grins—small, fierce. "No draws this time."
Coach Kamogawa enters, mitts under arm. "Manabu first. Ryouta second. Warm up separate. No watching each other fight. Focus on your own."
Takamura lounges in the doorway, cigarette unlit, arms crossed. "Don't embarrass me, brats. I trained you better than that."
You smirk. "Watch us, senpai. We'll make you proud."
He snorts. "Make me bleed again first."
Manabu's walkout music starts—upbeat J-pop track that matches his speed. Crowd roars as he steps through the curtain. You stay in the locker room, shadowboxing lightly, system panel glowing.
**Major Event Quest: "Pro Debut – Twin Night" Issued**
**Objectives (both twins must complete):**
- Win by KO/TKO in under 4 rounds
- No knockdowns suffered
- Display signature style (hybrid for you, Chronos speed for Manabu)
**Reward (per twin):** +4,000 SP | Permanent +1 all stats | "Pro Rookie King" title (stacks growth bonuses)
**Bonus (both achieve):** +2,000 SP shared | "Itagaki Twin Debut Legacy" passive – +35% fame/morale boost in Japan boxing scene for 12 months.
Manabu's fight begins. You hear the crowd swell through the walls—cheers, gasps, thuds. Four rounds pass fast. At 2:47 of round three, the announcer screams: "KO victory! Manabu Itagaki!"
Locker room erupts in cheers from Aoki, Kimura, Ippo. Manabu returns—sweaty, unmarked except a small cut over his eye, grinning wide. "Liver shot in the third. Dropped him cold."
You bump fists. "My turn."
Your walkout music: heavy rock bassline, slow build to explosion—Takamura picked it. Crowd noise hits like a wave as you step through the curtain. Spotlights blind. Signs in the stands: "Bear God!" "Ryouta!" "Itagaki Twins!"
Opponent: Hiroshi Yamamoto. Twenty-two, six pro fights, 4-2 record, orthodox, heavy hands, nicknamed "Iron Fist" for his right cross. He's taller, broader—looks like trouble.
Gloves touch. Ref instructions. Bell.
Yamamoto comes forward heavy—jab testing. You circle center, guard high, feet light. First exchange: his cross whistles. You slip, counter short left hook to body. He grunts.
Round one: feeling out. You output 60%. Jab exchanges—yours heavier. His reach advantage neutralized by footwork. A clean right straight from you snaps his head back. Crowd oohs.
Round two: he presses. Hooks wide. You weave, step inside—infight hybrid. Jab feint, right straight to solar plexus. Air leaves him. Left hook follows—liver. He doubles. You uppercut—chin. He staggers into ropes.
He fires desperate flurry. You block, slip, counter cross—temple. Cut opens above his eye. Blood sprays.
Round three: you climb—80%. Bear Slayer Mode not yet. You walk him down. Jab feint draws guard high. Right straight crashes ribs. He gasps, knees buckle. Left hook—temple. He drops hard.
Ref counts. He rises at eight—legs shaky.
Last minute: you explode. Jab-cross-hook chain. Hook lands flush—jaw. His eyes roll. He collapses face-first.
Ref waves off at six.
KO victory. 2:51 of round three.
Arena detonates—deafening. "Itagaki! Itagaki!"
You raise both fists. Manabu climbs into the ring—freshly bandaged, grinning. Ref raises both your hands together. Crowd chants "Twins! Twins!"
Cameras flash. Reporters swarm. Takamura stands ringside—arms crossed, small smile, cigarette finally lit.
Post-fight press: "How does it feel to debut with KOs on the same night?"
You: "Feels like the beginning."
Manabu: "We're just getting started."
Locker room later: ice packs, adrenaline crash, quiet pride.
Takamura enters, exhales smoke. "Not trash. Barely."
You smirk. "High praise, senpai."
He ruffles both heads—rough, affectionate. "Next fight in two months. Four-rounder again. Then six. Then eight. Climb fast. I'm not waiting forever."
He leaves. Coach nods approval. Ippo claps your shoulder. "You two… monsters."
System panel flares bright.
**Major Event Quest: "Pro Debut – Twin Night" Complete**
**Both achieved KO/TKO under 4 rounds. No knockdowns. Styles displayed.**
**Reward: +4,000 SP (per twin) | +1 all stats (permanent)**
**Title Earned: "Pro Rookie King" (shared)**
**Effect:** +40% growth speed in first 12 pro fights. +25% media/fan attention in Japan.
**Bonus Achieved: Both complete**
**+2,000 SP shared | Passive Unlocked: "Itagaki Twin Debut Legacy"**
**Effect:** +35% fame/morale in Japanese boxing scene for 12 months. Opponents receive -20% confidence on hearing "Itagaki twins" in matchmaking.
**New Quest Chain Unlocked: "Japanese Title Road"**
**Phase 1:** Win next 4 pro fights by stoppage.
Manabu looks at you—bruised, victorious, unbreakable.
"Pro league," he says softly.
You nod. "Our league now."
Outside Korakuen Hall, Tokyo night pulses. Neon signs reflect on wet pavement. You walk out together—gloves over shoulders, medals around necks no longer needed.
The debut is over.
The war has just begun.
**Chapter 15: Climbing the Ranks – The First Four Pro Fights & Media Storm (Age 18, Summer–Fall 1993)**
The pro debut KOs ignited a firestorm. Korakuen Hall footage looped on late-night sports shows. Newspapers ran double-page spreads: "Itagaki Twins Storm Pro Ranks – Identical Destruction." Talk radio debated whether the Bear God or Chronos was the bigger threat. Sponsors sniffed around—energy drinks, sports gear, even a chewing gum brand wanted "twin power" ads. Kamogawa Gym received more walk-in applicants in one month than the previous three years combined.
Fight two came six weeks later. Four-rounder at Korakuen again. Opponent for you: Taro Nakamura, 7-3 record, orthodox brawler from Yokohama, known for iron chin and clubbing hooks. Manabu drew a slick boxer from Saitama, 6-1, counter-punch specialist.
Weigh-in: both twins 57.0 kg flat. Media throng at the scale—flashes blinding. You stare straight ahead. Manabu smiles politely for cameras.
Your fight opens the card. Walkout to the same heavy rock track. Crowd already chanting "Bear God!" before you clear the curtain.
Bell.
Nakamura rushes—hooks looping. You circle, jab sharp, measure distance. His first clean hit crashes into guard—thud like hitting concrete. You counter short right to body. He grunts but presses.
Round one: pressure. You output 65%. Slip most hooks, land body shots that slow his advance. A clean uppercut snaps his head back. Crowd roars.
Round two: he corners you. Flurry. You weave, step inside—infight. Jab feint, left hook liver. He doubles. Right straight follows—chin. He staggers. You unleash combination: jab-cross-hook. Hook lands flush—temple. He drops hard.
Ref counts to ten.
KO at 1:39 of round two.
Manabu's fight follows. His opponent tries range control. Manabu closes gaps with blinding footwork—Chronos mode. Jab feint, right straight, left hook body-head. Opponent crumbles in round three—TKO via referee after repeated unanswered shots.
Two more KOs. Media explodes louder.
Fight three: eight weeks later, now six-rounder at Differ Ariake. Bigger venue, bigger crowd—five thousand. Your opponent: veteran gatekeeper Kenzo Hayashi, 12-5-2, southpaw, tricky angles, nicknamed "Phantom" for elusive style.
Weigh-in photos go viral—twins side by side, stone-faced.
Walkout. Crowd deafening.
Bell.
Hayashi circles wide—jabs probing. You match pace—70%. Jab exchanges favor you in power. He feints low, springs uppercut. You parry, counter cross—cheek. Swelling starts.
Round two: he vanishes—slips punches. You press, feint, draw him out. Step-in right straight—ribs. He grimaces. Left hook temple. He staggers.
Round three: you climb—80%. Hybrid rush. Jab feint high, drop low—liver shot. He gasps. Uppercut follows—chin. He drops to knee.
Rises at seven. Desperate flurry. You slip, counter. Final combination—jab-cross-hook-uppercut. Uppercut lands flush. He collapses.
KO at 2:12 of round three.
Manabu's six-rounder: pressure-fighter from Osaka. Manabu picks him apart—speed overwhelming volume. Stoppage in round four via body shots.
Four fights. Four stoppages. Records: you 4-0 (4 KOs), Manabu 4-0 (3 KOs, 1 TKO).
The Japanese Featherweight rankings update: both twins crack top fifteen within months.
Media storm peaks. Morning shows invite you for interviews. You sit stone-faced beside Manabu's polite smiles. Reporter: "Ryouta, they call you Bear God. How does it feel to carry Takamura's shadow?"
You lean forward. "Shadows are temporary. I'm making my own light."
Manabu chuckles. "He's always been like that."
Takamura watches from gym TV later, snorts. "Kid's got lines."
Training intensifies. Takamura's mitt sessions—brutal. He calls combinations faster than thought. You and Manabu drill side by side—synergy passive blazing. Bear Slayer Mode bursts longer. Chronos speed sharper.
Fight four: late fall, eight-round main event at Korakuen. Opponent: ranked number twelve, Ryoichi Sato, 14-3, orthodox, power puncher, nicknamed "Thunder" for his right hand.
Biggest test yet.
Weigh-in: tension thick. Sato stares. You stare back.
Walkout. Crowd eight thousand—sold out. Signs everywhere: "Bear God vs Thunder!" "Twins Take Japan!"
Bell.
Sato comes heavy—right hand cocked. You circle, jab testing. His cross whistles—misses by inches. You counter body shot. He grunts.
Round one: chess. You 75%. Jab keeps range. He lunges. You slip, hook ribs.
Round two: he opens. Thunder right crashes guard. Vibration up arms. You answer—liver shot. He winces.
Round three: pressure. You press—hybrid. Feint, step-in straight—solar plexus. He doubles. Hook temple. Cut opens.
Round four: war. He lands clean right—cheekbone cracks. Blood flows. You taste it, grin. Activate Bear Slayer Mode—ten seconds. Surge. Uppercut lifts chin. He staggers. Combination rains. Hook lands flush—jaw.
He drops.
Ref counts to ten.
KO at 1:58 of round four.
Arena erupts—deafening. Manabu's eight-rounder follows—opponent ranked fifteen. Manabu dismantles with speed. TKO in round six via cuts and exhaustion.
Both twins 5-0 now. All stoppages.
Post-fight ring interview: mic thrust forward.
"Ryouta, five straight KOs. Thoughts on Japanese title shot?"
You wipe blood from lip. "I'm coming. Whoever holds the belt—start training."
Crowd roars.
Manabu beside you: "We'll both be there."
Backstage: exhaustion, pride. Takamura waits in locker room.
"Not bad." He ruffles hair. "Next fight: top-ten ranked. Then title eliminator."
You nod. "We're ready."
System panel ignites.
**Quest Chain Phase 1: "Japanese Title Road" Complete**
**Four consecutive stoppage wins achieved.**
**Reward: +5,000 SP**
**Passive Upgraded: "Pro Rookie King" → Level 2**
**Effect:** +60% growth in first 12 fights. +40% media attention. Opponents -25% confidence vs Itagaki twins.
**New Passive Unlocked: "Stoppage Streak" (Level 1)**
**Effect:** +15% power per consecutive KO win (stacks to 5 max). Resets on decision or loss.
**Achievement: "Media Darling Twins"**
**Reward: +2,000 SP | "Spotlight Pressure" passive – +20% performance in televised bouts.**
**New Quest Phase 2 Unlocked: "Top-Ten Clash"**
**Objective:** Defeat a top-10 ranked featherweight in next fight.
Manabu watches. "Top ten next."
You flex bruised hands. "Good. Time to hunt bigger game."
Outside Korakuen, autumn wind cold. Neon reflects on wet streets. You walk home together—undefeated, unstoppable, twin shadows lengthening under spotlights.
The Japanese Featherweight title is in sight.
And the Bear God is hungry.
**Chapter 16: Top-Ten Clash – Thunder vs Bear God, Ranked Showdown (Age 18, Winter 1993)**
Winter in Tokyo bites harder than any punch. Frost clings to gym windows, breath fogs in the pre-dawn dark, but Kamogawa never cools. You and Manabu train through the chill—roadwork at 5 a.m., mitts with Takamura at 7, sparring rounds until the lights flicker off at night. The system tracks every session: SP climbing, stats creeping higher, the "Stoppage Streak" passive sitting at +75% power after five consecutive KOs.
The Japan Boxing Commission rankings update hits like a bell. You jump to number 8 featherweight. Manabu at number 10. The title holder—veteran champion Daisuke Mori, 22-2-1, thirty-one years old, slick southpaw, iron defense, nicknamed "The Wall"—holds the belt for three years. His next mandatory challenger is already set, but the commission announces an eliminator: winner faces the number-one contender.
Your opponent: number 5, Akira Fujimoto, 18-4, orthodox, power puncher from Osaka, twenty-six, known for one-punch knockouts and a granite chin. Fight scheduled for December 18 at Ryogoku Kokugikan—sumo's sacred hall converted to boxing arena. Ten rounds. Main event. Televised nationally.
Weigh-in day. Kokugikan basement scale room packed with press. Fujimoto steps up first—57.1 kg, stares across the platform. You follow—57.0 kg flat. Eyes lock. He smirks. "Heard you drop twins. Let's see if you drop me."
You don't blink. "You'll find out."
Flashes explode. Headlines tomorrow: "Bear God Faces Thunder in Eliminator – Title Path Opens."
Fight night. Ryogoku Kokugikan roars before the first bell—twelve thousand fans, banners waving, spotlights sweeping. Your walkout track thunders through speakers—low bass, building to explosion. Crowd chants "Bear God! Bear God!" before you clear the curtain. Manabu walks beside you as second, face calm but eyes fierce.
Fujimoto enters to heavy taiko drums—Osaka pride. He shadowboxes in the ring, gloves cracking air, staring across at you.
Gloves touch. Ref instructions. Bell.
Fujimoto comes forward heavy—orthodox stance wide, right hand loaded. Jab probes. You circle center, guard high, feet light. First exchange: his cross whistles past ear. You slip inside, short left hook to ribs. He grunts—first sound.
Round one: measured war. You output 75%. Jab keeps range. He lunges with power shots. You weave, counter body—liver area. He winces but presses. Clean right straight from you snaps his head back. Crowd oohs.
Round two: pressure builds. Fujimoto corners you near ropes. Hooks loop. You duck under, explode upward—uppercut grazes chin. He staggers half-step. You follow—jab feint, right straight solar plexus. Air leaves him. Left hook temple—cut opens above eye. Blood trickles.
He fires desperate flurry. You block most, eat a glancing hook to cheek—swelling instant. You taste copper, grin.
Round three: you climb—85%. Hybrid style flows. Outbox feint draws guard high. Drop low—liver shot doubles him. He gasps, clinches. Ref separates. You step in—right straight crashes ribs. He stumbles back. Uppercut follows—chin. His knees buckle.
He drops to one knee.
Ref counts. One. Two. Three… He rises at seven—eyes glassy but defiant.
Last minute: he swings wild. You slip, counter cross—temple. He wobbles. Hook lands flush—jaw. He crashes sideways.
Ref counts to ten.
KO at 2:34 of round three.
Kokugikan erupts—deafening wave. "Itagaki! Itagaki!"
You raise both fists. Manabu climbs through ropes—fresh from his own undercard win (six-round TKO earlier). Ref lifts both twins' hands. Crowd chants "Twins! Twins!"
Cameras swarm. Commentator screams: "Ryouta Itagaki stops number-five ranked Akira Fujimoto in three! The Bear God is now mandatory challenger!"
Ring interview: mic thrust forward, sweat dripping.
"Ryouta, you just KO'd a top-five contender. Next is the champion. Thoughts?"
You wipe blood from lip. "Mori's belt looks good on me. Tell him to train hard. I'm coming."
Crowd roars louder.
Backstage: chaos. Reporters, sponsors, fans pressing close. Takamura waits in locker room—arms crossed, small genuine smile.
"Number five down. Clean. Fast." He claps shoulder—hard. "Eliminator win. Title shot locked. Good, Junior."
Manabu bumps fist. "We're close."
Coach Kamogawa nods. "Mori fights in March. You get three months. Use them."
Ice packs later. Adrenaline fades to deep fatigue. Manabu leans against wall. "Top five. KO'd in three. Felt… easy."
You flex bruised hands. "Because we trained for harder."
System panel ignites—bright, triumphant.
**Quest Phase 2: "Top-Ten Clash" Complete**
**Defeated #5 ranked Akira Fujimoto by KO in round 3.**
**Reward: +6,000 SP**
**Passive Upgraded: "Stoppage Streak" → Level 2**
**Effect:** +20% power per consecutive KO (stacks to 7 max). Current streak: 6. +120% power active.
**New Passive Unlocked: "Eliminator Executioner" (Level 1)**
**Effect:** +30% performance in title eliminators / mandatory challengers. Opponents -20% defense when facing you in ranked bouts.
**Achievement: "Top-Five Slayer"**
**Reward: +2,500 SP | "Mandatory Menace" passive – +25% intimidation aura against champions and top contenders.**
**New Quest Phase 3 Unlocked: "Japanese Featherweight Title Shot"**
**Objective:** Defeat champion Daisuke Mori in March title fight. Win by stoppage for bonus.
**Projected Reward:** +15,000 SP | Permanent +3 all stats | "Japanese Champion" title (massive fame/growth multipliers).
Manabu watches invisible panel. "Title shot. March."
You nod. "Three months. We break Mori."
Outside Ryogoku, winter night cold and clear. Snow flurries drift under streetlights. You walk together—undefeated, ranked, one fight from gold.
The belt is in sight.
The Bear God smells blood.
And the champion doesn't know what's coming.
**Chapter 17: Japanese Featherweight Title Fight – Bear God vs The Wall (Age 18, March 1994)**
March 20, 1994. Ryogoku Kokugikan again—same sacred hall, same roaring twelve thousand, but tonight the atmosphere is electric, suffocating. The Japan Featherweight Championship is on the line. Champion Daisuke Mori, thirty-one, 23-2-1, southpaw, defensive master nicknamed "The Wall" for his impenetrable guard and counter precision. Three-year reign. Never stopped. Only two losses—both decisions, both razor-close. He's the benchmark every featherweight fears.
You're the challenger. 18-0, 18 KOs. The Bear God. National high-school champ turned pro destroyer. Media calls it "Youth vs Experience," "Power vs Defense," "Monster vs Wall." Billboards across Tokyo show your face—stone-cold stare—beside Mori's calm, bespectacled smile. Tickets sold out in hours. National TV. Prime time.
Weigh-in yesterday: both 57.15 kg exact. Mori stared across the scale, eyes calm behind glasses. "I've seen power before. It breaks on my guard."
You leaned in. "Then I'll break you first."
Fight night. Backstage locker room silent except for tape ripping and gloves lacing. Manabu sits opposite, gloves on, ready to second you. Coach Kamogawa adjusts your robe. Takamura stands in the doorway—arms crossed, no cigarette tonight.
"Twelve rounds," he says quietly. "Mori's a marathon. Don't rush. But don't let him breathe either."
You nod. "He'll feel every second."
Walkout. Heavy rock bass thunders. Crowd erupts before you appear—chants shaking rafters: "Bear God! Bear God!" Manabu walks beside, Ippo behind, Aoki and Kimura flanking. Spotlights blind. You step through curtain—robe black with gold "Itagaki" on back. Hood up. Gloves red.
Mori enters to traditional taiko—measured, composed. Glasses off now. Eyes sharp. Crowd splits—half for the veteran, half for the new monster.
Ring center. Robes off. Bodies oiled, muscles taut. Mori's frame lean, wiry—built for endurance. Yours denser, broader—Takamura template carved into featherweight limits.
Gloves touch. Ref: twelve rounds, Japan Featherweight title.
Bell.
Mori circles southpaw—left hand low, right up, guard tight. Jab flicks—testing. You match orthodox, feet planted, guard high. First exchange: his jab grazes forehead. You counter short right—body. Thud muffled by glove. He doesn't flinch.
Round one: chess. You probe—jab feint, step-in hook. He slips, counters left straight—cheek. Stings. You press—jab to body. He blocks, circles away. Clean cross from you snaps his head. First visible reaction—slight wince.
Round two: pressure. You walk forward—70%. Jab keeps him moving. He counters—sharp left to ribs. Pain flares. Bear Slayer dulls it. You answer liver shot—southpaw liver exposed. He exhales sharply, guard tightens.
Round three: you climb—80%. Hybrid opens. Feint high, drop low—body hook. He grimaces. Uppercut grazes chin. He backs to ropes. Flurry from him—left-right-left. You block, eat glancing hook to temple. Ears ring. You retaliate—right straight crashes guard. Leather cracks.
Round four: war begins. Mori opens volume—southpaw angles tricky. Jab-cross-hook. You weave most, counter body. He winces again—liver swelling. You press. Jab feint, step-in right straight—solar plexus. Air leaves him. He clinches—first time. Ref separates.
Round five: you activate Bear Slayer Mode—fifteen seconds. World slows. Surge forward. Jab feint draws guard high. Left hook liver—deep. He doubles. Right uppercut—chin. Head snaps. He staggers back. Combination rains—jab-cross-hook. Hook lands flush—temple. He drops to one knee.
Ref counts. One. Two… He rises at eight—eyes clear, guard up. Crowd screams.
Round six: he survives. Counters sharp—left straight clips jaw. You taste blood. You answer—body barrage. Liver, ribs, liver. He gasps, guard dropping fractionally.
Round seven: endurance test. Both breathing hard. Mori's defense cracks—small openings. You exploit—jab to body, cross to head. Cut opens under his eye. Blood flows. He fires desperate left—chin. You eat it, grin through copper.
Round eight: you climb—90%. Bear Slayer bursts longer—twenty seconds. Surge. Jab feint, right straight solar plexus—crunch. He folds. Left hook temple—cut widens. Right uppercut—chin. His head rocks violently. Knees buckle.
He drops hard—face-first.
Ref counts. One. Two. Three… Four. Five…
Mori pushes up at seven—legs trembling, eyes unfocused. Ref checks—lets continue.
Last minute: you unleash everything. Jab feint, step-in combination—right straight, left hook, right uppercut. Uppercut lands flush—chin. His eyes roll. He collapses backward through ropes—out cold.
Ref waves frantically. KO at 2:47 of round eight.
Kokugikan detonates—earth-shaking roar. "Champion! Champion!"
You drop to knees beside fallen Mori—respectful. Medics rush in. You stand, gloves raised. Manabu climbs through ropes—tears in eyes—hugs you tight. Ref lifts your hand. Belt brought forward—gold plate gleaming.
Announcer screams: "New Japan Featherweight Champion—Ryouta Itagaki!"
Crowd chants your name for minutes. Cameras flash. Confetti rains.
Ring interview: belt over shoulder, blood on lips, voice hoarse.
"Ryouta, you just became champion at eighteen—all KOs. How does it feel?"
You look straight into camera. "Feels like the first real step. The belt's mine now. But I'm not done. World's next."
Manabu beside you: "We'll both get there."
Locker room: chaos. Hugs, backslaps. Takamura enters last—quiet.
He stops in front of you. Looks down. No grin. Just steady eyes.
"You did it, Junior. Broke the Wall." He extends hand—not ruffle, not clap—firm shake.
"Welcome to the top."
You grip back. "Not the top yet. Your division's next."
He laughs—low, genuine. "Keep dreaming big. I'll be waiting."
System panel erupts—blinding blue.
**Major Event Quest: "Japanese Featherweight Title Shot" Complete**
**Defeated champion Daisuke Mori by KO in round 8.**
**Reward: +15,000 SP**
**Permanent Stat Increase: +3 all categories**
**Title Earned: "Japanese Featherweight Champion"**
**Effect:** +100% fame in Japan. +50% growth speed for 12 months. Mandatory defenses grant +30% SP. International attention multiplier unlocked.
**Passive Upgraded: "Stoppage Streak" → Level 3**
**Effect:** +25% power per KO (stacks to 10 max). Current streak: 19. +475% power active (capped at tournament rules).
**New Passive Unlocked: "Belt Bearer" (Level 1)**
**Effect:** +40% endurance in title fights. Opponents -30% morale when facing reigning champ.
**Achievement: "Youngest Japanese Featherweight Champion in History"**
**Reward: +5,000 SP | "Historic Dawn" passive – +35% performance in milestone fights.**
**New Quest Chain: "World Stage" Unlocked**
**Phase 1:** Defend title twice. Phase 2: OPBF regional title shot.
Manabu watches panel fade. "Champion."
You touch belt. Gold cold, heavy, perfect.
"Champion."
Outside Kokugikan, spring night mild. Cherry blossoms early this year—petals drift like slow confetti. You and Manabu step out together—belt over shoulder, twin shadows long under streetlights.
The Japanese title is yours.
The world is watching.
And the Bear God has only just begun to roar.
**Chapter 18: First Title Defense – Bear God vs The Challenger from Hell (Age 18, June 1994)**
June 25, 1994. Korakuen Hall again—smaller than Ryogoku but packed to the rafters with five thousand die-hards. The Japan Featherweight title defense: mandatory challenger versus the new champion. Three months since you broke The Wall. Three months of nonstop training, media circus, sponsor photoshoots, and Takamura's merciless mitt sessions. Your record stands 19-0, 19 KOs. The streak is legend. Opponents whisper your name like a curse.
Challenger: Takeshi Kondo, twenty-eight, 21-3-1, orthodox, aggressive infighter from Nagoya, nicknamed "Hellhound" for his relentless pressure and vicious body work. He's the number-one contender—earned it by stopping three straight top-ten fighters. No one's seen him smile in the ring. Ever.
Weigh-in yesterday: both 57.1 kg. Kondo stared across the scale, eyes dead. "I'll chew through your ribs until you quit."
You leaned forward. "Try. I bite back."
Fight night. Backstage locker room thick with tension. Manabu sits opposite, gloves laced, ready to second. Coach Kamogawa tapes your hands—slow, precise. Takamura leans in the doorway, arms crossed.
"Twelve rounds," he says. "Kondo's a dog. He'll try to drag you into the mud. Don't let him. Keep distance early, break him late."
You flex fingers. "He won't last late."
Walkout. Heavy rock bass shakes the hall. Crowd already chanting "Bear God! Bear God!" before you appear. Manabu beside you, Ippo behind, Aoki and Kimura flanking. Spotlights blind. You step through curtain—belt over shoulder, black robe with gold "Champion" on back. Hood up.
Kondo enters to low, grinding industrial track—red robe, no expression. He shadowboxes sharp, eyes locked on you from across the ring.
Robes off. Bodies oiled. Kondo's frame compact, dense—built like a wrecking ball. Yours taller, broader—Takamura template honed razor-sharp.
Gloves touch. Ref: twelve rounds, Japan Featherweight title defense.
Bell.
Kondo explodes—orthodox rush, hooks flying. You circle center, guard high, feet light. First exchange: his left hook crashes guard—thud like hitting steel. You counter short right—body. He absorbs, presses harder.
Round one: storm. You output 75%. Jab keeps range. He ducks under, digs body shots—ribs ache. You pivot, uppercut grazes chin. He doesn't flinch.
Round two: pressure intensifies. Kondo corners you near ropes. Body barrage—liver, ribs, liver. Pain blooms deep. Bear Slayer regeneration dulls edges. You slip out, counter cross—cheek. Swelling instant. He answers hook to temple—ears ring.
Round three: you climb—80%. Hybrid style opens. Feint high, drop low—body hook. He grunts—first crack. You press. Jab feint, right straight solar plexus. Air hisses out. Left hook temple—cut opens above eye. Blood flows.
He fires desperate flurry. You block most, eat glancing hook to liver—breath catches. You retaliate—right straight crashes guard. Leather cracks.
Round four: war. Kondo's volume insane—punches never stop. You weave, counter body. His ribs swell. You step in—infight. Jab feint, left hook liver—deep. He doubles slightly. Uppercut follows—chin. Head snaps.
He clinches—first time. Ref separates.
Round five: endurance test. Both breathing hard. Kondo's pressure relentless. You activate Bear Slayer Mode—fifteen seconds. Surge. Jab feint draws guard high. Right straight solar plexus—crunch. He gasps, knees buckle. Left hook temple—cut widens. Right uppercut—chin. He staggers back.
Combination rains—jab-cross-hook. Hook lands flush—jaw. He drops to one knee.
Ref counts. One. Two… He rises at eight—eyes wild, guard up.
Round six: he survives. Counters vicious—left hook ribs. Pain flares. You taste blood, grin. Answer—body barrage. Liver, ribs, liver. He winces, guard dropping.
Round seven: cracks widen. Kondo's output slows fractionally. You exploit—jab to body, cross to head. Blood from nose now. He fires desperate right—chin. You eat it, counter uppercut—chin. His head rocks.
Round eight: you climb—90%. Bear Slayer bursts longer—twenty seconds. Surge forward. Jab feint, right straight solar plexus—deep crunch. He folds. Left hook temple—cut reopens. Right uppercut—chin. Eyes glaze.
He drops hard—face-first.
Ref counts. One. Two. Three… Four. Five…
Kondo pushes up at nine—legs trembling, eyes unfocused. Ref checks—lets continue.
Last minute: you unleash hell. Jab feint, step-in combination—right straight, left hook, right uppercut. Uppercut lands flush—chin. His eyes roll. He collapses backward—out cold.
Ref waves frantically. KO at 2:19 of round eight.
Korakuen detonates—earth-shaking roar. "Champion! Champion!"
You drop to knees beside fallen Kondo—respectful. Medics rush. You stand, gloves raised. Manabu climbs through—hugs tight. Ref lifts your hand. Belt returned—gold gleaming under lights.
Announcer screams: "Still Japan Featherweight Champion—Ryouta Itagaki! Successful first defense by KO!"
Crowd chants for minutes. Confetti rains. Cameras flash.
Ring interview: belt over shoulder, blood on face, voice raw.
"Ryouta, another KO defense. Thoughts on the reign?"
You look into camera. "This belt stays with me. Kondo was tough. Next one will be tougher. I'm ready."
Manabu beside: "He's unstoppable."
Locker room: exhaustion, pride. Takamura enters—quiet.
"Eight rounds," he says. "Broke him clean." He extends hand—firm shake. "First defense down. World's calling."
You grip back. "Let it call louder."
Coach nods. "Two defenses done. OPBF shot next."
Ice packs later. Manabu leans against wall. "He fought like hell."
You touch belt. "So did we."
System panel erupts.
**Major Event Quest: "First Title Defense" Complete**
**Defeated mandatory challenger Takeshi Kondo by KO in round 8.**
**Reward: +12,000 SP**
**Passive Upgraded: "Belt Bearer" → Level 2**
**Effect:** +50% endurance in title fights. Opponents -40% morale facing reigning champ. +20% recovery between defenses.
**Passive Upgraded: "Stoppage Streak" → Level 4**
**Effect:** +30% power per KO (stacks to 12 max). Current streak: 20. +600% power active (capped).
**Achievement: "Undefeated Champion"**
**Reward: +4,000 SP | "Defense Dominance" passive – +35% performance in mandatory defenses.**
**New Quest Phase: "OPBF Regional Conquest" Unlocked**
**Phase 1:** Secure OPBF title shot through next defense or eliminator.
**Projected Reward:** Massive SP, international ranking entry, multi-division path tease.
Manabu watches panel fade. "OPBF next. Asia's belt."
You nod. "Then the world."
Outside Korakuen, summer night warm. Neon pulses. You step out together—belt over shoulder, twin shadows stretching under streetlights.
First defense complete.
The reign has begun.
And the Bear God hungers for more.