Previously On Unknown: In Garton, a desolate town, 10-year-old orphan Akishima survives among junk and homelessness. His parents are deceased, and he lives in a makeshift shelter. A friend brings a substantial catch for a feast. Akishima dreams of a mysterious voice, adding an eerie layer to his reality. The next day, he encounters Hisashi, and their peaceful moment is shattered by the menacing figure behind them.
(Continuing)
"N-No way, i-it can't be," Akishima stammered in shock, toothbrush still in his mouth as he stared at the standpipe.
Hisashi, also in disbelief, stood frozen with his toothbrush in hand. "Yu-Yuji!" Both Akishima and Hisashi's minds raced, their eyes locking in unspoken agreement. Simultaneously, they sidestepped away from each other, positioning themselves on either side of the imposing figure.
"Hey! Just who are you?" Akishima demanded with a tense tone, cautiously turning around.
Hisashi mirrored his actions, fixing his gaze on the stranger. "Yeah, what he said, who are you?" Hisashi echoed, his voice wary.
"Yuji!!" The realization struck both Akishima and Hisashi like a jolt. Their eyes widened as they finally took in the appearance of the man before them.
"A skinny old man?" Hisashi blurted out, his confusion evident.
"Hold on, who are you? And did you see anyone suspicious around? We were sure Yuji or someone like him was here," Akishima interrogated the old man, his guard still up.
"Let's all calm down and discuss this rationally, there's no need for hostility," the old man advised, stroking his long white beard.
Hisashi agreed, "Yeah, I guess we can hear him out."
"I'll start by saying that the person you call Yuji was not here, I was the one to greet you," the old man clarified.
Akishima remained sceptical, "Really? Then what was that ominous presence we felt when we were brushing our teeth?"
The old man sighed, "That, that was my Manki."
"Man-ki?" Both Akishima and Hisashi exchanged puzzled glances, their heads tilting in unison.
"Yes, Manki," the old man confirmed.
"But this is not something you two should concern yourselves with at your current level." He told the boys.
"Oh, I almost forgot, I should introduce myself," the old man mused. "My name is Matsumoto, a Martial God. The pleasure is mine."
This old man has a thin frame, he's a little taller than average with a long white beard and medium white moustache, wearing clothing oddly similar to monks, and has a walking stick.
Northeast of Garton The Junkyard stands a formidable wall crafted from an amalgamation of planks, metals, and various sturdy materials scavenged from the piles of discarded junk. Flanking this barrier are two watchtowers, stationed on opposite sides, while multiple outposts dot its perimeter. A wider perspective reveals that this formidable wall encircles what appears to be a regal edifice, constructed entirely from Garton's Junk. This impressive structure goes by the name of the Gomi Palace, a title that nods to its origin in the realm of garbage, probably hinting at any ironic undertones.
Dominating the palace's highest floor, at its epicenter, is a grand throne. Seated upon this ornate seat of power is none other than the Palace's Sovereign, known far and wide as, The Beast, Yuji—An Individual Often Said To Embody Cruelty, Malice, And Malevolence In Their Purest form.
"Your Highness, I humbly apologize for this intrusion, but I bring grave tidings," the kneeling man's voice quivered with nervousness.
"Speak," the ruler replied curtly, his gaze fixed upon the supplicant.
"Scouts have made an intriguing discovery," the man began cautiously.
"To the southwest of Garton, near one of the standpipes, Akishima, The Devil Child Hisashi, And One Of The Martial Gods Matsumoto were found engaged in conversation." The kneeling man nervously said.
A faint smile curled upon the monarch's lips as he mused, "Ah… All the Big Shots are gathered all in one place, talking."
"Indeed, Your Highness. Such is the report," the messenger confirmed with a respectful nod.
"You may depart now," the ruler decreed.
"But, Your Highness, do you have any orders for us? How shall we respond?" the messenger inquired with a mix of curiosity and unease.
"My order to you was to withdraw, was it not?" The ruler's response held a note of impatience.
"Y-Yes Your Highness. My apologies," the messenger stammered, hastening to make his exit.
"Also, convey this information to our ranks," the ruler added as the messenger began to leave.
"Of course, Your Highness," the messenger acknowledged before leaving the presence of the throne.
*Back To The Standpipe…*
"Uh? Martial…God?" Both Akishima and Hisashi tilt their heads in confusion.
"What's a Martial God?" Akishima inquired, genuine curiosity coloring his tone.
"Is it some kind of food?" Hisashi's question mirrored his intrigue.
"Food? Seriously? Does that sound like food to you?" Akishima's response was tinged with irritation.
"Look, we may not know what a Martial God is, but that doesn't mean we're dumb or should I say 'I'm' dumb," he added with a touch of frustration.
"Hey, I'm not dumb either, and cut me some slack. It's my first time hearing about this sort of thing," Hisashi retorted, his irritation evident.
"Calm down, boys, calm down. Neither of you is familiar with the concept of a Martial God, so there's no need to argue," Matsumoto interjected, attempting to ease the tension.
"Fine," the boys replied in unison, the edge in their voices softening.
"Very well, let me shed some light on the matter of Martial Gods and share a bit about myself," Matsumoto said, his expression shifting from amusement to a slight smile.
A Martial God Represents The Pinnacle Of A Living Being Ability, The Ultimate Level Of Strength And Skill One Can Attain. In this world, there are only six individuals who have achieved the status of Martial Gods. Among them, The Oldest And Wisest Martial God, Matsumoto, Is Also Known As The God Of Fighting.
Legend has it that he predates even the concept of time itself. While he wasn't the very first Martial God, he stands as the second. Throughout the years, Matsumoto has observed the world's evolution and growth, fostering a deep affinity for the younger generation. Concurrently, he has extensively studied a myriad of fighting styles and techniques, ranging from ancient practices to contemporary methods.
From his comprehensive understanding, he pioneered the very first fighting style, aptly named Martial Arts. Although other styles have emerged since the authenticity and strength of the original remain unparalleled. Over time, Matsumoto perfected his creation, molding it into what he now terms True Martial Arts.
(To Be Continued)
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