"Huh?"
The American challenger's celebration was cut short as he looked forward to see that though his punch had landed, it had no effect on his opponent.
Gento was simply looking at him with that same idle, almost bored look plastered on his fair face.
It made no sense to the American MMA fighter: "He weighs less than me," "My punches have knocked super heavyweights out cold in one blow."
In short, this was something that surpassed normal logic.
But, this subversion of logic was simply the norm when facing "The Immaculate"--
"Are you satisfied?" Gento asked.
That question made Jason realize something: the blow he had landed, as futile as it was, wasn't even something that came to be by his own skill.
Gento simply had allowed it.
Did he…not want to embarrass me in front of the audience? Why? Jason questioned.
Before the man could find an answer, he looked forward to witness his snowy-haired opponent preparing for a counter.
Seeing Gento prepare for an attack caused all of Jason's instincts to fire off, telling him to raise his guard as he did just that.
It hardly felt like enough as he looked on to see the attack that Gento was preparing:
Dragging his left foot through the sand, Gento began to spin in a circle, gaining speed as a wind spiraled around him.
"ARE WE GOING TO SEE IT?! WHAT A TREAT! THIS IS ONE OF GENTO'S SPECIAL TECHNIQUES–THE "RAIJIN IMPACT"!" The announcer called.
The announcer roared out in anticipation, clapping to a beat that was unique to the experience driven by the Valhalla champion himself.
While Gento spun around, the wind that had begun to gather had manifested itself into a full-blown tornado within the pit, causing the sand to ripple and swirl around, pelting against Jason's raised arms.
It felt as if what he faced wasn't a human, but a deity in the flesh of a man; possessing such abnormal strength that fighting back felt like the last action to take.
What the hell is this?! Jason thought.
"Raijin Impact."
With an unexpected burst of speed, Gento seemed to have warped into the air, spinning around and kicking the air itself as he commanded the force emitted from his kick to be reinforced by the sharp winds.
"What the hell?!?!" Jason let out.
It hardly felt like the combat sports that the American challenger was used to, being hit with the devastating outburst of wind that left a volatile impact resounding within the arena.
As a massive cloud of dust arose, it settled moments later to reveal Jason unconscious, slumped over against the wall that was embedded now with a cobweb of cracks. The man was bruised all over his body, swollen and bleeding.
Gento stood tall, unscathed by the short battle with the American MMA champion.
The announcer finally yelled into the mic, "WINNER, AND STILL THE REIGNING, UNDEFEATED CHAMPION OF VALHALLA–GENTO RYOTO!"
While the audience screamed and applauded the performance, the pale-haired, stoic man didn't soak in the victory, only marching back through the tunnel and into his VIP room.
The white-haired Valhalla champion hardly looked as if he had experienced triumph, walking into his room as his manager greeted him.
"Nicely done, Gento! That's…two-hundred wins and zero losses in Valhalla now. We should celebrate the occasion."
His manager was a bubbly woman with curly, crimson hair, wearing a black business suit, though her excitement was hardly a match for the stoic man: Etsuko Miwamura.
"Why?"
"Hm?" Etsuko tilted her head.
"There is no cause for celebration. All I did was trample far below myself. That's no cause for celebration," Gento said, taking his gloves off.
As the youthful man, far beyond his own years, sat down on the black leather couch, he looked at the black ticket placed on the table.
"...Should I win the Celestial Fist, that will be cause for celebration," he said, glancing up at his meek manager.
With that half-agreement for a future celebration, Etsuki pumped her fist in the air excitedly, "Yeah!"
Gento smiled just a tad, still looking at the black ticket.
I wonder if you'll be there…"King of Brawling", he thought.
[Six Days Out From The Qualifiers | Following Afternoon | Chimon's Gym]
"Woah…I didn't believe it at first, but a big shot like "The Ogre" really lives in town?!"
The eccentric Ishikawa looked about ready to burst in excitement at the sight of the former boxing champion. She was looking right at the burly man, who was getting his gloves put on by a member of the gym.
"Seriously, you've got some impressive friends, Touma," Tadashi said.
"I guess so," he smiled.
He was standing at the red corner of the ring with his two friends standing behind the ropes, partly for support, but mostly because he knew they'd appreciate meeting a name like Chimon.
"Still…I have no doubt in your strength, but to fight a heavyweight champion of the boxing world…" Tadashi said.
"C'mon! Show some belief in him!" Ishikawa reprimanded the blue-haired young man.
Tadashi sighed, having the collar of his shirt playfully shaken by the red-haired girl before he adjusted his glasses, "...I'm merely voicing my concerns, that's all."
He stretched his arms across his chest, wearing nothing besides wraps around his hands and cyan trunks, holding a smile as he looked forward.
"Tadashi is right; I can't mess around with an opponent like this. One misstep, and I'll be seeing stars," he said, looking towards the opposing corner.
In the blue, the former boxing champion stood with his gloves properly strapped and his eyes focused, holding that killer focus he'd seen before.
"...You've got this, Daigo!" Ishikawa told him, giving him a playful slap on the back.
"If you should win, I feel this will be an invaluable experience before the qualifiers–so, try to win, Touma," Tadashi said with a smile.
He glanced back, nodding as he raised his guard just as the chosen referee for the bout issued the start of the match.
"Begin!" The gym member shouted.