Niko struck Kei in what he referred to as a post-training session to manage his madness. The beating was brutal, and both utilized the Niko style they had learned, but Niko's skill set was far superior to Kei's. It didn't matter; the style was about learning even through the blows. Kei observed every movement, pattern, and combination he could, blending lightness with all his styles. It was about unifying combat into sequences or patterns, much like Kenichi did, who added combos written to perfection, making him so formidable against his rivals. Mixing movements was part of his improvement... but Kei was still far from that level, just as far as Kannoh Agito.
- Kata breaks iron. - Niko roared, adopting a horse stance and delivering a powerful strike to Kei's ribs, reinforced by his adamantine kata. Kei twisted slightly, managing to lessen the impact of his master's blow, but it was enough to keep him from being pierced. 'I almost died,' the red-haired boy thought.
- You reacted quickly; you're improving considerably, kid. - The Other Niko replied smoothly. - But I must teach you to contain that murderous intent; it annoys the masters. You are my reflection; a disciple who cannot control his lses is merely a hindrance to my image and my things. -
The blows continued with intense wear, breaking through his fugo kata, crushing his water kata, and boxing techniques with simple strikes... The tiger Niko forgot about Kei, and the morning light illuminated the young man's battered face as he leaned against a brick wall, his breath escaping silently. He felt as if his muscles were completely torn and his bones broken, with nowhere to go. He sighed lazily, missing his mother's home, feeling utterly alone.
He took a nap in that uncomfortable position, always alert. The first rule taught to him inside was to keep his eyes open to any movement; even a cat should not be underestimated, especially when the wounds were still fresh and the flesh was burning.
He arrived at an apartment, leaving a trail of blood behind him. - I'm home. It's a sweet new home. - He greeted the small cubicle room, which contained a mattress, scattered newspapers, some books, and a cold, dirty, damp basement. He washed his face, looked at his reflection in the mirror, and had the feeling that this year would be special, with the end of the year and the start of the second grade just around the corner. Now he had to fulfill his commitments: two Kengan fights in fifteen days.
***
In the dojo of the martial arts associated with Japan's blacklist combat system, warriors are cultivated for the protection of political figures and secret missions. The underground world had many figures, but this was one of the most important... constantly sending soldiers to replenish its ranks. Here, different military factions found their place to carry out the most challenging missions.
- Welcome back, Kei; you've been lost for a long time. - Takemoto commented, his chest exposed, smiling, embodying his name, the god of war.
- I'm sorry, Master; I've had many inconveniences; I found myself caught in a storm. - Kei replied, lost in his thoughts. Takemoto observed his body, battle-worn, having left as a boy and returned as a man.
- I'm here to fulfill my promise; I will be the special forces of Japan, just as I promised, and I will participate in the Kengan fights as I vowed. As long as Master Takemoto accepts me, I will fight. - Kei declared.
The grimace that crossed Roshi's face was enough to indicate that something was wrong. Takemoto fell silent, but Roshi, the old softy, pulled Kei aside to explain the situation... It was unusual for such activities to take place, but Kei's search over the past few months and his involvement in the Ivory Coast war led Takemoto to expedite his plans. The two Kengan fights were merely a quick date.
- We sold your contract. An entity purchased Master Takemoto's contract, an entity that cannot be offended; its power is simply something that must not be disrespected. For now, you are free; they paid a considerable sum for your services. - Roshi commented.
Yami did this; he encouraged it and did not attack because they had dealings with Takemoto.
- I see, so my Kengan fights are scheduled... who set them up? - Kei asked.
- Well, I don't know that. But your new employer is someone not to be underestimated; he is a very wealthy, mortal, and intelligent man... we've done our homework, but you will participate in the Kengan fights as his substitute. - Roshi explained.
- Can I stay here to train? - Kei asked, feeling somewhat uneasy; everything had changed so quickly, and he hadn't expected the situation to escalate to this point.
- You can; Kovac has been waiting for you for months; he feels somewhat guilty about what happened. - Roshi replied cordially, observing the sweet boy, whose eyes now reflected programmed illusions of hopelessness—dark and deep. The smiles had faded, and for that reason, among others, their relationship had developed into a prone detachment.
They walked through familiar hallways until they reached the old shed. When he was ten years old, he always wanted to use the 50-kilogram vests along with the 30-kilogram weights on both ends; now was the time to utilize that small space.
The vests rested on his shoulders, and the weights compressed his muscles, but he didn't mind... even though Bakuya News, a company of the Four Dragons, held Takemoto in high regard for the next twenty years, they didn't need a fighter. Therefore, to reduce costs, they sold Kei to Yami. Under the watchful eyes of Senzui and Ogata, they promoted the contract to test the waters in the Kengan association, selling the contract.
Ten days until his Kengan fight, fifteen days until starting at Kyrko Secondary School.
***
Saiga Furinji, dressed in a colorful suit and with his lazy gaze, arrived at the sanctuary of Mikumo Kushinada. This woman, though 90 years old, performed a special technique that gave her an appearance different from what one would expect; it was due to the ki, a forbidden technique, along with a strict regimen of breathing, diet, and training. Her actual age was 26 years, both spiritually and physically—a powerful ability that had been both blessed and feared by many.
They followed the principles of zero force, and 100% technique, and had worked on it for 300 years. Kushinada was the fruit of that time and the best master in that style.
- Leader. - Kushinada murmured while in a lotus position.
- Kushinada, it's good to see you. - Saiga commented.
- Strangely, you came to see me; you accepted my proposal; our blood will create perfect warriors. - Kushinada replied, maintaining her meditative posture.
Saiga made a grimace of disappointment at the situation but held his tongue; he could not afford to refuse. He was in front of a person difficult to offend—complicated, powerful, and with a childlike genius.
- The new fist of the cloud, the creator of the formless style, and bearer of the Niko style mentioned something that made me think Senzui is still playing with my image and appearance. What happened? What are you hiding from me? - Saiga commented, the order was absolute, and Kushinada pondered deceiving him.
- For months, Senzui has been making deals with that individual, a very dangerous and elusive man. He has no honor or martial sense... perhaps that's what Yami needs. I don't dare question the founder of Yami. He has different students all over the world, imparting his martial arts and forbidden techniques. But for the past ten years, he has begun experimenting on martial artists; I could say that the new boy is the sample of his latest experiment, one that even moved me. One hundred fighters, cultivated by him since childhood, all trained in martial arts, although they do not follow the Kuremisago system; they follow their own, a mandatory development constrained by the will to survive—the Wu ritual. Each fighter, after years of training, is locked in a ritual room with food and water for one person for three months, forced to kill each other mercilessly, their brothers who shared bread and water, surrendered to darkness. The results of this development are astonishing; I've seen them, but the master of the cloud calls this his masterpiece. - Kushinada commented, igniting silence between them. Saiga sighed deeply at the horror, unpleasantness, and inhumanity that far surpassed any massacre he had participated in; he felt sick but did not show his disgust as the raindrops hit the sanctuary.
- What are the consequences? I don't believe that ritual doesn't generate repercussions. - Saiga asked.
- You've seen it, Saiga; don't ask obvious questions... his Sei Ki has transformed into Dou Ki; he cannot control his bloodlust; his inner demon is like that of a beast. Niko mentions that he can copy any style and is working on blending all his styles. If you ask me, it's interesting; if it works, we will have a young man who, without tradition, creates his legendary martial school. Time brings with it wonderful things. - Kushinada commented.