Yubito Robinson sat down with Kei, both sitting cross-legged, staring intently at one another.
-What do you want, young man? - Yubito asked, sipping his tea as he eyed Kei sharply. The young man who had defeated him might just be one of the next martial arts masters.
-I want you to teach me martial arts. I want to learn Bartitsu to complement my boxing style. There's still much for me to learn, but I need someone who specializes in this kind of fighting. - Kei said, looking Yubito in the eyes. He'd been contemplating for a long time that acquiring skills wasn't enough; he needed real training. He needed the methods behind those who forged these techniques in the first place.
-Bold words, kid! Do you think I'm a fool? Some arrogant boy, here to lick the wounds of a defeated rival. You're insulting me, brat. - Yubito said, his eyes blazing with a fierce pride sharpened by the art of solitude. He understood well that his defeat was not just a personal loss but a blow to his martial art itself.
-When we fought, I felt your fists. I sensed the truth of a man carrying regrets who now seeks death over life. Stop fighting and train me. I promise to guard Bartitsu's knowledge and pass it on only to those worthy. I'll keep its techniques safe to enhance my style. Boxing is my foundation; most of my skills stem from it and blend with it. I feel my style lacks cohesion—it needs a technique transformed by boxing. I am that person! Pain is my daily meal; effort is what drives me. I'll use Bartitsu to master my boxing.- Kei declared, meeting Yubito's gaze, his words moving the older man.
-Big words. You must have great teachers behind you. You don't need me; it's pride that drives you. You lost to me—at least, that's how it seems—you can't accept defeat, despite being so young. And yet, you carry a heavy darkness on your shoulders, a burden that keeps you chained. - Yubito replied.
-I get it… I have a demon inside me, one that calls out every time I surpass my limits in battle. Each time I use it, a piece of my mind is consumed. My instincts cry out for the fight, for victory, for destruction. I know I'm a monster—I've known since I became what I am. I don't fear killing if necessary, nor destroying my enemies. But how I long for a life without it, to live peacefully without constantly facing challenges. I'm not a good person; I'm someone who pursues his interests, and if anyone gets in my way, I'll eliminate them. - Kei said, his words burning in his eyes. This was his essence, a fierce will holding back the demon within him, a violent urge born from the Gu ritual—part of his very being, a side that craved release.
Kei took a sip of sake, his arms strong from relentless training. Power coursed through every muscle like a call from the heavens; every part of him yearned to explode with strength. He dreamed of becoming the strongest man in history—a sharp goal, alongside his desire to live a life with Miu. Gradually, his breathing calmed.
Yubito, his brilliant blue eyes watching Kei closely, was somewhat captivated by the boy's sheer will, the arrogance to face the abyss without knowing its depth. A tap on the tatami brought a smug smile to his face, and the two shared a look of understanding. Kei's fifth master had arrived; the first was Takemoto, then Shiba, Niko, and the Tiger, Nike. Now Yubito was joining as his true teacher, to train him in a fusion of many styles.
-I'll make you see stars.- Yubito said.
Kei removed his military jacket, revealing 15-kilogram weights on his wrists, an armor of springs and pulleys pressing with enough force to crush a sack of potatoes into pulp, a testament to his training.
-I hope so. I've seen hell many times. - the boy growled.
Bartitsu was developed between 1880 and 1900. In a book by Barton-Wright, a friend of the Robinson clan, it was explained that Bartitsu combines Fudo-ryu jujutsu, Kodokan judo, British-Swiss boxing styles, French savate, and canne de combat, a staff-fighting style created by a Frenchman during the Napoleonic Wars. It emphasizes physical culture alongside fighting stances, with its popularity immortalized in Arthur Conan Doyle's works.
-Then enough talking. I'll teach you as if you were my son. I'll hit every inch of your body and push your instincts to the limit, where the boy becomes a man. We'll quell that demon with hot iron and cold water, using your spirit to see how capable you are. - Yubito said, though his last words were spoken softly, just for himself. Kei readied himself, his schedule cleared for six months while Kovac traveled on government missions for Japan. Kei trained with Shiba, then with Yubito, and continued practicing his martial arts under Ogata.
His martial arts training was so intense that there was no room for error; everything focused on the movement of his fists. The next day was a school day, but Kei kept moving his fists, quickly pushing himself to wake up, to break his limits. Yubito whipped a lash while using a wooden staff to teach Kei grips and footwork. The floor was hot coal, weights hung from his arms, and he wore armor given by Yubito, a set of chains wrapped around his feet.
After a 30-kilometer sprint at top speed, they repeated the cycle: jujutsu, run, judo, run, boxing, run, savate, run. It was a hellish training session, twice as intense as what Mokichi Robinson had experienced.
***
Ikki Takeda was thrilled. Initially, he'd felt some resentment toward Shogo, but after getting to know him, he saw something different in him—a drive to excel, a desire to push boxing to the limit. Even though Shogo used kicks in his style, his boxing was simply beautiful.
-You train with Kei? - Ikki asked, not wanting to bring up the question but knowing it was inevitable.
-We still train together, but Kei constantly fights against experts, true underground masters, or goes on training trips. For now, he's away on one of those trips. Will he come back stronger than he was? It's a wall I need to overcome. - Berserker said, standing in front of a thick metal trunk and beginning to punch it. He realized that Shogo wouldn't stop until his knuckles were raw.
-Ikki-chin, let's go make some money. - Shiba said, holding a beer.
-Yes, master, just give me a second. - Ikki replied, pleased with his punk master.
Both were determined to fight. Meanwhile, Shogo continued to train, refining his punches, focused solely on winning his match against Kei the next day. The showdown between boxing disciples would begin tomorrow.
...
-Kei is a monster, - murmured Shogo, watching Takeda's joy. He didn't know that Kei's mountain was just a small cliff in the world of martial arts, but he wasn't wrong about one thing—Kei's progress was worthy of admiration.
...