Chapter 220: The Ambush
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 220: The Ambush
"Alright, see you at school tomorrow!"
"Bye-bye~"
We had a blast at the hotel suite where Sasha was staying long-term, and it was around 6 PM when we all went our separate ways.
Everyone scattered at the intersection in front of the hotel. I was walking with Rika to the subway station to head home when it happened.
"Found you."
It was then that something huge dropped from above.
Thud!!
The ground shook from the immense weight.
A towering height of nearly two meters, a body packed with muscle, and an unidentifiable aura.
Just by facing him, I could instinctively tell that the man before me was an incredible powerhouse.
Finally, the man spoke, his long, dark purple hair fluttering.
"Are you Kim Yoo-Sung?"
"...Who are you?"
I asked, naturally stepping in front of Rika.
I've faced countless dangers until now, but this was the first time someone from the underworld had shown themselves so openly on a public street.
Usually, our fights took place in secluded or controlled areas.
"Whoa? What's this? Are they filming a movie?"
"They're both ripped."
Passersby started gathering one by one.
Some were already taking pictures or recording videos.
But the man paid them no mind and took another step closer to us.
"Fuma Kotaro. Does that name ring a bell?"
"!"
The moment I heard that name, I was stunned.
And for good reason. As far as I knew, there was only one person in the underworld who went by the name Fuma Kotaro.
Fuma-senpai's father, who had vanished without a trace ten years ago.
"Ryu-chan..."
Behind me, Rika tugged on my sleeve with a worried expression.
"It's okay. Nothing's going to happen."
After reassuring Rika in a low voice, I stared at the man before me, Fuma Kotaro.
"Why has Fuma-senpai's father come looking for me?"
Fuma Kotaro glanced at Rika hiding behind me, then said with a deadpan expression,
"Is that your girlfriend? I heard you rejected my daughter's advances. I see there was a reason."
Rika, startled, cried out.
"R-Ryu-chan and I aren't in that kind of relationship yet!"
Yet...?
Her choice of words, with its hidden meaning, made me pause for a second, but given the situation, I decided to let it slide.
But Fuma Kotaro heard Rika and rubbed his chin, looking intrigued.
"To have that much Yang Energy and no girlfriend... are you impotent by any chance?"
"I do have one!"
This guy! What an outrageous thing to say!
For someone who made such a forceful entrance, he seemed to be doing nothing but spouting nonsense.
But even as we were chatting, people continued to crowd around us.
When the crowd surrounding us grew to several dozen people, Fuma Kotaro grinned and said,
"Well then, shall we begin?"
What? I didn't have time to ask.
Fwip!
By the time I came to my senses, a sharp kick was already flying toward my chin.
'Oikaze?!'
It's the footwork of Hayate.
The fluid weight transfer, far more skilled than my own, created the visual effect of him gliding across ice, even on the asphalt.
"Kuh!"
I narrowly dodged the kick by jerking my chin back. Worried about Rika behind me, I immediately launched a counterattack.
Hayate Fourth Form
'Tatsumaki (竜巻)'
As if summoning a whirlwind, wind coiled around both my arms, knocking back the approaching Fuma Kotaro.
Tatsumaki was Hayate's only counter-move, capable of reacting to most strikes and deflecting them to the side.
But it seemed he hadn't taken any real damage either, as he did a backflip in the air to put some distance between us.
"Hmm, you've learned the basics properly. Your response just now wasn't bad."
The onlookers cheered at the exchange that had unfolded in the blink of an eye.
Woooooah!!
"What just happened?!"
"So cool! It's like watching a Hong Kong movie!"
As if bothered by the peanut gallery's reaction, Fuma Kotaro glanced over and muttered.
"Noisy."
But he didn't do anything more, which suggested he had no intention of moving from this spot.
I figured I wouldn't be able to fight while protecting Rika if something like that happened again, so I asked her to step back for a moment.
Rika looked at me with a worried expression, but she clenched her two adorable fists and said,
"Ryu-chan, I don't know what's going on, but you have to win!"
I chuckled at her cute cheer and nodded.
"I'll go easy on him."
As Rika blended into the crowd of onlookers and I finished preparing to fight properly, Fuma Kotaro shook his mane-like hair from side to side and spoke.
"I imagine you're curious why I've suddenly appeared and challenged you to a fight. However, I have no intention of answering that question right now. We can talk like civilized men after the fight is over. For now, let's focus solely on testing our skills as martial artists."
Sounding just like his rival Ivan during Golden Week, Fuma Kotaro settled back into his stance.
The kata (型) he was taking now, with both hands held out before his chest, was Hayate's high stance, a posture focused purely on offense.
In contrast, the kata (型) I took, with one forearm raised in front of my body and the other hand at my waist, was Hayate's middle stance, a posture for both offense and defense.
We learned the same martial art, but our forms diverged based on our individual dispositions.
In martial arts, this is called a ryūha (流派).
Normally, we would have had a master-student relationship, but because he disappeared, I had to teach myself Hayate through the Fuma clan's secret texts. As a result, I didn't know which of our styles was closer to the original.
But in cases like this, the stronger one is usually the more correct one.
"The look in your eyes has changed. It seems you're finally ready to fight."
Fuma Kotaro grinned as if pleased and leaned his upper body slightly forward.
'He's coming.'
The moment I had that thought, Fuma Kotaro's long hair swayed like a wolf's tail as he closed the distance in an instant.
Hayate Third Form
'Arashi (暴風)'
His twin palms, thrust straight forward, struck from all directions like a storm.
Arashi wasn't a martial art with a fixed form.
Because a storm is a relentless assault, using not just fists (拳) and palms (掌), but every part of the body, all depending on the user's skill.
And with each repetition, this chain of attacks grows faster and more powerful.
To counter an attack speed so fast it was hard to follow with my eyes, the card I played was also Arashi.
Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!
Our palms repeatedly clashed, the impacts sounding like small explosions in the air.
It was a tense, close-quarters battle where neither of us gave an inch.
"Hup!"
I blocked a thrust aimed at my collarbone with my palm, and when he struck at my ribs, I blocked with my forearm.
He aimed for my temple, so I aimed for his solar plexus. He kicked at my knee, and I responded by pressing down on his thigh.
Exchanging blows one after another in an attempt to land a clean hit was like solving a puzzle.
"You're young, so your reaction time is good!"
He seemed to be getting excited by the fight. I yelled back in his face,
"Being old is nothing to brag about!"
BAM!!
No sooner had the words left my mouth than we landed the first clean hits of the fight, right on each other's faces.
He probably lowered his guard on purpose because of my taunt, but for a strategy of trading flesh for bone, the damage he took looked significant.
Fuma Kotaro shook his head back and forth, as if he'd gotten a slight concussion from the punch that landed squarely on his jaw.
On the other hand, I had used Tatsumaki to slightly deflect his fist just before impact, so I took relatively less damage.
Of course, due to the difference in our skill, I couldn't deflect it completely and ended up biting my tongue, which hurt like hell.
We'd traded blows fair and square. Now it was my turn to attack.
With Fuma Kotaro's vision swimming, I spread my arms, lowered my body slightly, and rushed in for a body tackle.
"Kgh!"
He must have realized I was going for a ground technique, because he tensed his calves, trying his best not to be taken down.
As a result, the wooden clogs Fuma Kotaro was wearing scraped against the asphalt with a grating sound.
But they soon reached their limit and the straps on his clogs snapped, causing Fuma Kotaro to lose his balance and teeter.
CRASH!!
Riding the momentum, I successfully took him down and immediately tried to switch positions to apply a joint lock.
But he must have experienced this situation countless times at GOF, where fighters from all over the world gather, because his response, even on the defensive, was masterful.
He immediately bucked his hips to create space, then wrapped his arm around my neck, attempting a reverse chokehold.
Sensing the danger, I quickly pulled back. He let me go without a struggle and immediately got to his feet, composing his stance.
"......"
He's a formidable opponent.
We had been fighting for nearly ten minutes, but neither of us had managed to land a significant blow.
Even considering that we weren't using Ki (氣) because of all the onlookers, his body, which should have been long past its prime like Ivan's, still boasted a toughness that rivaled his youth.
His breathing had grown noticeably rougher, so I made a suggestion.
"You seem to be getting tired. How about we call it a day?"
Fuma Kotaro just shrugged and said nonchalantly,
"I can do this all day."
...Of course you can.
If he'd had any intention of letting me go at this point, he wouldn't have ambushed me in a place teeming with civilians in the first place.
As I pretended to catch my breath, racking my brain for a way out of this difficult situation, I heard the magnificent roar of an engine in the distance.
VROOOOOOOOOOM!
To speed like that in the middle of downtown Tokyo took guts, but the skill to weave through traffic like that was also extraordinary.
Finally, the sports car screeched to a halt on the shoulder of the road, leaving long skid marks. The door flew open, and out jumped Ivan, whom I had just seen at the hotel, dressed in a suit.
"Black Yaksha! You've finally shown your tail!"
"Ivan?"
As the situation spiraled further into chaos, I couldn't help but press a hand to my forehead.
'This is insane.'
How is this supposed to be a romantic comedy world?