Super Fighting Tokyo

Chapter 76 A Flawless Posture

Lower level, inside the ship's main hall.

Besides the men in black and mercenaries who were in a standoff, there were also dozens of other "debtors" who hadn't had time to leave yet; only a few of them had managed to escape in the chaos.

Those debtors weren't exactly smart people; they couldn't keep up with the situation at all, and what they were seeing was utterly baffling to them.

"Hey, what's going on? How come there are real guns here...?"

"Those two have started fighting already?"

"That was a sneak attack? How despicable!"

"The box that guy threw out—did it really contain 100 million yen?!"

"..."

The debtors whispered among themselves, but because of the guns held by the two groups of people around them, no one dared to say anything for a moment. Everyone looked terrified and disheveled.

……

……

In stark contrast were the people in the upper-level monitoring hall.

Kazutaka Hyoudou, Atsushi Suedo, Kaede Akiyama, and the official referees of the Kengan Association—

These four individuals have very high standards, and therefore had already considered deeper aspects.

"...That was too reckless!"

Akiyama Kaede stared at the monitor screen, locking onto Shiraki Sei and Mupu Guilang.

“In the world of combat sports, such as the largest 'Ultimate Fighting', each fighter has an average of about 1.6 matches per year.”

"Even in the Kengan Association, which has a large number of events, each fighter only needs to participate in an average of 8.5 matches per year!"

Akiyama Kaede frowned deeply.

"Mr. Shiraki was already injured, yet he had to fight two Kengan Challenge matches in one day—the intensity of these matches was simply too high!"

"..."

Upon hearing Akiyama Kaede's words, Suedo Atsushi, who was standing next to him, suddenly became interested.

He chuckled and rubbed his chin, teasing, "Was the intensity really that high? I was instantly killed! Against a 'newbie' like me, Shiraki probably didn't exert much effort!"

“Mr. Modo, please don’t treat me as a complete layman.”

Akiyama Kaede looked back at Motoo Atsushi, his eyes still exuding a strong and cold aura. "I can tell that you are by no means second-rate and are fully capable of being a 'fighting fighter'."

"To achieve a one-hit kill against you, I would have to expend a lot of effort to find the right opportunity."

"Your fight against Mr. Shiraki was an undisputed Kengan match!"

Akiyama Kaede looked at the screen again.

"Therefore, Mr. Shiraki has no need to accept the second challenge—at least not for the time being. He can listen to the threatening conditions of Mokugiro; perhaps there are other ways to break the deadlock."

"..."

Hearing Akiyama Kaede's words, Modo Atsushi understood.

He picked at his ear. "Oh right, so you have that kind of... businessman's mindset? You definitely look like you work for a big company."

"Although I don't know how to refute it, our Shenxin Society's 'first headmaster,' Yudi Dubu, once said something to us little devils of the dojo—"

Suedo Atsushi recalled:

He said that in "our world," the rule is that if an opponent is standing in front of you, you have to knock him down.

"Even if they are not at their best, it doesn't mean the opponent is being despicable."

"In life, we always have to eat and drink, and of course, we will get hurt and get sick."

"It's unrealistic to expect to be in peak condition during a fight—that's common sense in this 'world'."

"..."

Upon hearing this, Akiyama Kaede couldn't help but sigh silently. The famous "Foolish One-Walking" truly deserved to be called a master who founded a school of thought; his insights were indeed extraordinary.

Even if the logic is correct, the facts remain unchanged.

"Mei-ura is about to attack!"

……

……

Lower lobby.

The crowd unconsciously made way, clearing a large open space for the two to use as a fighting arena. Mu Pu tiptoed, his steps light and agile, his sinister eyes revealing a ferocious intent.

"You said you could defend against me? It seems your victory in the first game made you underestimate your 'opponent's' strength..."

"To be precise, they misjudged the 'subtlety' of my punch."

Mupu clenched his fists and moved forward little by little with butterfly steps.

Just as his arm span reached Shiraki Sei, Moku suddenly threw a punch, striking Shiraki Sei's outstretched arms.

boom!boom!
Two swift straight punches landed with a dull thud, sounding extremely heavy.

But Shiraki still raised his arms, using his upper arms to protect his sides, and then using his forearms and fists to block in front of his face, thus blocking Mupu's two heavy punches in succession.

"call……"

Mupu took a quick breath, followed by a barrage of straight punches and hooks, gradually increasing in speed and force with each punch.

Bang bang bang!
No matter how fiercely Mupu attacked, Shiraki Cheng only defended.

That wasn't simply "holding on," nor was it the kind of "standing firm" that Kaoru Hanayama embodied; rather, it was about constantly adjusting one's movements based on the attacks from Moura.

Sometimes he would push forward, sometimes he would retreat to deflect the force, taking down Mu Pu's punches one by one.

"..."

Seeing this, the debtors couldn't help but start talking.

"One attack, one defense?"

"They're fighting really hard, but it doesn't seem to be having any effect!"

Is he performing boxing?

Those debtors were all amateurs in combat and couldn't understand anything about it. They even started to find it boring, but the next second—

Swish!
Mupu threw a punch that grazed Shiramu Cheng's forearm and slammed onto the gambling table next to him.

With a loud crash, a hole was smashed through the sturdy solid wood gambling table!
Looking at Bai Mucheng again, there was now a straight abrasion on his forearm, which he used for defense. A large piece of skin had been rubbed off, and blood was seeping out.

The debtors were shocked, exclaiming, "What happened?!"

"...It's the way you hold your hand."

Their response came from a gun-wielding man in black, who was also a mercenary with some fighting skills.

He explained, "Mupu's fist grip is very special. In addition to a normal fist grip, the thumb is placed on the outside and the index finger joint is slightly protruding."

The man in black demonstrated, "This is a common technique in actual combat, using 'knuckles' to increase the sharpness of the fist."

"Combined with Mupu's punching technique's 'power generation' and his boxing 'speed,' if the angle is right, his strikes can even 'scrape' off the opponent's skin!"

"..."

Upon hearing this, the debtors couldn't help but exclaim in amazement.

But no one present noticed that after Mupu landed his successful blow, his expression was one of confusion, and a question arose in his mind—

why?
"..."

But before Moura could figure out his question, Shiraki had already re-established his defensive stance.

Extreme confusion and unease welled up in his heart, forcing Mupu to not stop, to regroup and continue his fierce attack, throwing one fast and heavy punch after another.

He's clearly just a "punching bag" who only knows how to defend, so why...?

As time went on, Shiraki gradually adapted to Mupu's rhythm, and his defensive arm would swing in time, following Mupu's force so that Mupu's knuckles could no longer scratch his skin.

Mu Pu's eyes widened.

why? !

Swish!
In desperation, Mokuura unleashed his forbidden kicking technique, delivering a high sweeping leg that was so fast it even created a whooshing sound, but it was also blocked by Shiraki Sei's large arm.

"Drink!"

Mupu gritted his teeth, mobilized all his muscles to exert force, and threw another mid-section straight punch. With a muffled "thud," Bai Mucheng was forced back a few steps.

"..."

"call--!"

Bai Mucheng exhaled a breath of hot air, slightly moved his swollen arms, letting the blood droplets flow down his skin, then raised his arms again and lowered his body further, almost squatting.

At the same time, Mupu took a step back, his sinister gaze trembling uncontrollably.

He looked at Bai Mucheng, finally clarifying the doubts in his heart—

Why is it that even though he's just squatting there, he exudes such a powerful and undeniable sense of oppression, with absolutely no weaknesses?
(End of this chapter)