Chapter 144: The Two Masterpieces
Inside Nyx's portal.
The realization lasted less than a second, barely a fraction of a heartbeat, yet in the middle of combat, even a single blink could feel like an eternity.
Gyoran moved.
SLASH!!
His dagger cut through the air, its sharpened edge racing toward Daito's throat. Yet before the blade could reach its target, Daito had already disappeared from its trajectory. It wasn't because he was faster than Gyoran, nor was it because his reflexes had somehow surpassed those of his opponent. He had simply predicted the attack before it began.
The moment Gyoran mentioned a Supreme Authority, Daito had recognized the danger. The conversation itself had been the opening move, the revelation a distraction, and the brief exchange of words a carefully constructed trap. Gyoran had used the discussion to draw Daito's attention toward something other than the fight, hoping to exploit the smallest lapse in his concentration.
Unfortunately for him, Daito Greyhell loved tricks.
WHOOSH!!
Daito pivoted around Gyoran's blind side, allowing the dagger to slice harmlessly through empty air as he drove 'The Piercer' toward his opponent's kidney. It was a calculated counter, executed with the intention of punishing Gyoran for committing to his initial attack. However, the moment the bone spear entered striking distance, Gyoran's expression shifted into a knowing smile.
That had been the second attack.
CLACK!!
Beneath his arm, Gyoran's pistol rotated backward until its barrel emerged from the space beneath his armpit, pointing directly toward Daito's exposed ribs at an angle that should have been impossible to exploit.
BANG!!
The gunshot thundered across the desert as the bullet tore toward Daito's side. There was barely enough time to react, let alone evade, but Daito immediately released one hand from 'The Piercer' and struck Gyoran's wrist with an open palm.
SMACK!!
The impact redirected the barrel by a fraction, changing the bullet's trajectory just enough for the round to tear through Daito's coat instead of burying itself in his ribs.
For less than a breath, both men held their positions, their eyes locked as they processed the exchange. Neither had gained a decisive advantage, and neither had managed to land the blow that would end the fight.
Yet, despite the danger they had just escaped, they arrived at the same conclusion.
Good, at last the real fight had begun.
BOOOOOOM!!
They exploded apart, their sudden movements sending waves of crimson sand into the air as ancient bones shattered beneath their feet. The desert trembled under the force of their departure, and the space between them filled with drifting dust and fragments of long-forgotten skeletons.
Daito lowered his stance while Gyoran twirled his dagger between his fingers, both men watching the other with unwavering concentration. The earlier smiles had disappeared, replaced by the quiet seriousness of fighters who had finally found someone capable of challenging them on equal terms.
This wasn't simply a contest of strength anymore. It was chess, and both of them were grandmasters.
SWOOOSH!
STEP–STEP–DASH!
Gyoran attacked first, advancing with a sequence of steps that seemed to change almost as quickly as they began. Three steps became two, two became one, and before Daito could establish a reliable rhythm, Gyoran's body had already entered his striking range.
Daito recognized the technique immediately.
'Footwork manipulation.'
Gyoran deliberately altered his rhythm to disrupt his opponent's timing, changing the distance between steps and shifting his weight in ways that made his next movement difficult to anticipate. Most fighters relied on recognizable patterns, whether they were conscious of them or not, but Gyoran had learned to weaponize the absence of those patterns.
His body suddenly appeared inside Daito's guard, close enough that The Piercer became an awkward weapon to maneuver.
Exactly where Gyoran wanted him.
Daito responded without hesitation, releasing his grip on the bone spear and allowing it to drop vertically toward the sand.
Gyoran's eyes widened for an instant.
'He threw it away?'
No.
He hadn't thrown it.
'He had released it.'
Before the weapon could strike the ground, Daito stepped forward and drove his forehead into Gyoran's face.
HEADBUTT!!
CRACK!!
The impact smashed into Gyoran's forehead, forcing his head backward and disrupting his balance. Daito immediately capitalized on the opening, chaining his next movements together with ruthless efficiency: an elbow toward the jaw, a palm strike aimed at the chest, a knee rising toward the liver, and a shoulder strike intended to drive Gyoran backward.
POW–POW–THWACK!
There was no wasted motion in the sequence. Every attack flowed into the next as naturally as water finding cracks in a wall, with each movement designed to exploit whatever weakness the previous one created.
WHAM!!
Daito's palm shot toward Gyoran's jaw, but the Boss slipped just beyond its reach.
WHAM!!
A knee followed, aimed at the liver, only for Gyoran to turn his hips and evade the impact by the narrowest margin.
WHAM!!
Daito's elbow swept toward the side of Gyoran's temple, yet the attack struck nothing but air.
Somehow, Gyoran avoided every strike without retreating. Instead, he moved deeper into Daito's space, slipping between the attacks with such precision that his body seemed to flow through the gaps like a thread passing through the eye of a needle.
FWOO...
The elbow missed.
FWOO...
The knee missed.
FWOO...
The palm missed.
And suddenly, the distance between them vanished.
BAM!
Gyoran was standing chest-to-chest with Daito.
"Oh, that's nasty," Daito muttered, his expression tightening as he recognized the position he had been maneuvered into.
Gyoran seemed to agree. "It really is."
BOOM!!
The dagger lunged toward Daito's eye, but he caught Gyoran's wrist before the blade could reach him. Their hands collided, and the fight abruptly narrowed into something far more intricate than the exchange of punches and kicks that had preceded it.
Hand against hand.
Wrist against wrist.
POW–THUD–TAP!!
POW–TAP–TAP!!
For a moment, neither man moved more than a fraction of an inch. Their battle had become microscopic, a contest determined by finger pressure, thumb placement, shoulder alignment, and the slightest adjustments in hip positioning. Every movement carried a purpose, and every mistake threatened to create an opening large enough for the other to exploit.
SWOOOSH!
It was the kind of fighting Ntate Greyhell had taught them.
'The best fighters don't fight bodies.'
'They fight balance.'
Gyoran pushed against Daito's wrist, attempting to break his structure, but Daito redirected the pressure and turned the movement into a trap. Gyoran escaped before the hold could be completed, only for Daito to adjust his stance and force him to defend against another attempt.
Push. Redirect. Trap. Escape.
Each movement answered another, creating an endless sequence of questions and responses that unfolded at the speed of violence. They moved like two mathematicians solving equations, each calculation performed instinctively, each solution immediately challenged by a new problem.
Then Daito noticed something.
Fwooo....
A twitch in Gyoran's left shoulder, so small that an ordinary fighter would never have recognized it as anything worth considering. It wasn't enough to indicate a direct attack, but it was enough to suggest preparation.
Daito immediately ducked.
BANG!!
A hidden pistol shot exploded over his head, the bullet passing through the space his skull had occupied a fraction of a second earlier.
Gyoran smiled. "You saw that?"
Daito returned the smile. "You wanted me to."
The Boss's expression changed, because Daito was right.
The twitch in his shoulder had been bait, an intentionally misleading movement designed to provoke a predictable defensive reaction. Gyoran had expected Daito to recognize the apparent threat, duck beneath it, and expose his balance in the process.
But Daito had recognized the trap behind the trap.
WHAM!!
His foot hooked around Gyoran's ankle, disrupting the Boss's balance just enough to force him to shift his weight. It was a tiny mistake, barely noticeable from a distance, but Daito had already prepared for the opportunity.
SWOOOSH!
The bone spear suddenly launched upward from the sand.
'The Piercer' had never been abandoned. Daito had planted it, positioned it, and waited for the exact moment when Gyoran's attention would be occupied elsewhere. Even while fighting at close range, he had continued to account for the weapon's location, turning what appeared to be a disadvantage into an elaborate trap.
The spear erupted toward Gyoran's throat.
For the first time since their battle began, the Boss looked genuinely surprised.
CLANG!!
Gyoran barely managed to intercept the rising bone spear with his dagger. The collision sent a violent shock through his arms, forcing him backward as his boots scraped across the crimson sand. He slid several meters before finally recovering his balance, and when he looked down, he discovered a long cut stretching across his chest.
Blood trickled from the wound, dark against his clothing, and for a moment, the desert fell silent.
Then Gyoran laughed.
"Heh....."
It wasn't the mocking laughter of a man who believed himself superior, nor was it the arrogant amusement of someone who had underestimated his opponent. It was the genuine laughter of a martial artist who had just discovered something extraordinary.
"You're insane."
Daito retrieved 'The Piercer' and settled the weapon into his grip. "Takes one to know one."
* * *
Fwooosh....
The wind howled across the battlefield, carrying dust and fragments of ancient bone through the air. Far beneath the sand, something enormous shifted, its movement disturbing the ground beneath their feet, but neither man paid it any attention.
Their world had shrunk until nothing else mattered.
There was no Playmore, no Supreme Authority, no Outsiders, and no Silver Moon. All the ambitions, loyalties, and conflicts that had brought them to this strange dimension had temporarily disappeared beneath the immediacy of the fight.
There was only Daito.
There was only Gyoran.
And there was only the question of which man would finally outthink the other.
Gyoran suddenly lowered his dagger.
Fwooo....
Daito's eyes narrowed as he studied the new stance. Something about it was wrong. The Boss's guard had opened too much, his posture was too inviting, and his body appeared far more vulnerable than it had a moment earlier.
Which meant it wasn't vulnerable at all.
It was bait.
"Why are you standing like that?" Daito asked.
Gyoran remained silent.
Daito didn't move, and neither did his opponent. Seconds passed as both men studied the other's posture, waiting for the first sign of commitment while simultaneously refusing to provide one themselves.
They knew what the other was doing and they knew that the other knew. They both knew that acting first might be exactly what the trap required.
Then, almost simultaneously, their expressions changed.
They burst out laughing.
"Ha!...."
"Hehe!...."
"He's trying to trick me," they said at the exact same time.
Gyoran pointed his dagger toward Daito. "You first."
Daito shook his head. "No, you first."
"Why?"
"Because your trap sucks."
Gyoran stared at him in disbelief. "My trap sucks?"
"Yeah."
"It took you ten seconds to figure it out!"
"That's because your acting was terrible."
The Boss looked genuinely offended. "My acting is amazing."
"You're literally smiling."
Gyoran paused.
"...Fair."
And then, without another word, both men vanished.
BOOOOOOOOM!!!
TTTTTRRRRRRRRR!!
The desert exploded beneath their feet as they collided once more, sending a shockwave through the ruined landscape. Dagger met bone, bone met fist, and fist met elbow as their bodies became blurs against the crimson haze. Their movements were so rapid that individual attacks seemed to overlap, each strike flowing into another before the sound of the previous impact had finished echoing across the desert.
TTTTRRRRRRRRR!!
POW–POW–BAM!!
SLASH–CLANG–SLING!!
It was a violent conversation spoken entirely through combat, with every movement asking a question and every counter providing an answer. Each feint created another layer of deception, and beneath every layer lay another possibility waiting to be discovered.
TTTTRRRRRR!!
Somewhere deep inside that storm of strikes, both Daito Greyhell and Gyoran Chitsujo reached the same terrifying realization.
Their opponent wasn't merely skilled.
Their opponent thought exactly like they did.
And that meant defeating him wouldn't necessarily require greater strength, greater speed, or greater power. None of those advantages would be enough if every attempt to exploit them was anticipated, countered, or transformed into an opportunity for the other man.
'To win, one of them would have to become more unpredictable than someone who was already predicting everything.'
And that was the hardest fight either of them had ever faced.
To be continued....