Chapter 226: A Bloody Battle
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 226: A Bloody Battle
Clang!
The bell rang, signaling the start of the match inside the battle cage.
However, instead of fighting immediately, the two men took their time, slowly sizing each other up.
As the saying goes, if you know your enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles. Knowing one's enemy is the first step to victory.
But from Ivan's perspective, nothing much had changed about Kim Yoo-Sung.
If anything, the only difference was that his once-awkward movements had transformed into those of a seasoned expert.
'First, a little test.'
Having made up his mind, Ivan charged forward with his arms spread wide.
It was one of the secret martial arts of the Russian Imperial Family, a technique he took great pride in.
'Медведь императора'
The Emperor's Bear.
With his massive lats, reminiscent of a Kodiak bear, and forearms as thick as logs, Ivan's charge was truly overwhelming.
But Kim Yoo-Sung did not flinch.
Half a year had passed since their last fight.
Having repeatedly faced powerful foes, Kim Yoo-Sung could now stand on equal ground with anyone. He never lost his composure, even in the most critical situations.
A clash.
As Ivan tried to crush his spine with a bear hug, Kim Yoo-Sung used Hayate's counter-technique, Tatsumaki (竜巻), to deflect the attack. He then redirected the resulting kinetic energy right back at its source.
BOOM!!
The moment the fist slammed into his abdomen, a sound like a cannonball exploding echoed through the arena, and Ivan was sent flying backward as if it were a lie.
The crowd erupted in cheers.
It had been a fleeting moment, but the exchange of blows that had just unfolded before their eyes was of an incredibly high level.
While still in the air, Ivan flipped his body, kicked off the steel cage, and launched himself back toward Kim Yoo-Sung.
"Hmph."
Seeing Ivan's truly reckless charge, which was less like a bear and more like a wild boar, Kim Yoo-Sung used Tsujikaze (旋風) to wrap his arms in wind.
In the next instant, their fists met again in mid-air.
However, due to their physical differences, Ivan's arms were slightly longer than Kim Yoo-Sung's, and it was Ivan who landed a clean hit.
After they had traded a solid blow each, an all-out slugfest began.
It was a brutal fight, with neither man holding back, as they were both well aware of the other's durability.
In a normal match, fighting like this would get them disqualified for fouls in an instant, but unfortunately, in the underworld, anything was permitted.
"Khahahaha! Is this all the successor to Fuma Kotaro has to offer?!"
To counter Kim Yoo-Sung's combination attack, Arashi (暴風), Ivan used another imperial martial art: 'Грифон императора'—the Emperor's Griffin.
A mythical beast, half lion, the king of the land, and half eagle, the king of the sky.
As such, Ivan's fighting style, which combined the traits of both animals, possessed a profound quality that blended offense and defense into one.
Kim Yoo-Sung held his own at first, but as he was gradually pushed onto the defensive, he frowned and began searching for a way to break through.
'Our physical abilities are about equal, but I'm losing due to the difference in experience.'
Unlike himself, who had only started learning martial arts in earnest less than half a year ago, Ivan had been fighting for well over thirty years.
Not only that, but having fought Fuma Kotaro more than four times, Ivan arguably knew how to counter the Hayate style better than Fuma Kotaro himself.
He had realized that fact far too late.
'If I'd known this would happen, I would have done whatever it took to master Nagi.'
A wave of regret washed over him, but it was too late to call off the fight.
As he was slowly pushed back, Kim Yoo-Sung realized he was cornered.
The steel cage was at his back; there was no more room to retreat.
"Heh heh, you're a rat trapped in a jar. What are you going to show me now?"
"..."
For a moment, Kim Yoo-Sung debated whether or not to take the Ghost Pill.
The moment he swallowed it, he would be under a time limit—he'd have to end the fight within five minutes.
But his hesitation didn't last long.
Gulp!
It was all or nothing, anyway.
"Hoo—"
In a situation with no visible path to victory, pushing himself to the limit was the only way to find an opening.
Feeling the immense Yang energy surging from deep within his body, Kim Yoo-Sung expertly stripped off the top of his tracksuit.
*
At that moment, in the VIP room on the second floor.
From a spot that offered a clear view of the fight between Kim Yoo-Sung and Ivan, Fuma Kotaro stood with his arms crossed, lost in thought.
'So he's being pushed back, as expected.'
In a way, it was a predictable outcome.
The Black Yaksha, Fuma Kotaro, had fought Ivan a total of four times in the official GOF tournament.
He had only managed to defeat Ivan in their very last encounter, and he wasn't confident he could win if they were to fight again.
'I taught him everything he needed to know, but…'
In the span of a week, Kim Yoo-Sung had ultimately failed to learn Nagi.
If it had been any other technique, he could have forced his body to memorize it, but Nagi was closer to a form of enlightenment, so there was nothing he could do to help.
"Kim Yoo-Sung..."
His daughter, standing beside him, muttered the name with a look of anxiety. Fuma Kotaro cleared his throat and said, "Don't worry too much. I don't know about anything else, but his durability is second to none."
Even if he lost this fight, he wouldn't be seriously injured.
"Are you even listening to yourself right now?"
Yukika glared at Fuma Kotaro with sharp eyes.
Even a legendary Seven Fist Master couldn't ignore his daughter's displeasure. Fuma Kotaro looked away with a guilty expression.
Meanwhile, another of the Seven Fist Masters, Ivan's daughter Sasha, sat leisurely in her chair, sipping vodka. She turned to the old man sitting next to her.
"Who do you think will win this fight, Master?"
The old man, who had the demeanor of a Taoist sage, stroked his long beard and replied, "Hmm, from what I can see, your father will win. It seems he won by a stroke of luck last time, but against an Ivan who isn't letting his guard down, the boy is likely outmatched."
The old man was 'Dongfang Bubai,' Li Senshun.
He had been living in seclusion in his hometown in Hebei Province, but he had accepted Ivan's invitation and set foot in Japan for the first time in a long while.
"That's a shame, Master. I was thinking Kim Yoo-Sung would win."
Attending to Li Senshun was Li Meiling, the champion of the 7th GOF and its first-ever female winner.
Dressed in a green cheongsam with a splendid dragon pattern that highlighted her long, slender legs, she smiled gently as she looked at Kim Yoo-Sung through the glass.
'You've grown a lot since I last saw you, Kim Yoo-Sung.'
"Meiling, may I ask why you think so?"
Li Meiling chuckled softly in response.
"Would you believe me if I said it's a woman's intuition?"
Li Senshun stroked his white beard and laughed heartily.
"If it were anyone else, I might not, but your intuition is worth trusting, Meiling. In that case, I suppose I'll place my bet on that young man as well."
"Hehe, a wise choice, Master."
As the two, who were almost like father and daughter, shared a warm conversation, another of the Seven Fist Masters gathered there, 'Champion' Lucio, stroked his mustache and commented, "He was making a big fuss about being the Vajra Yaksha or whatever, but he doesn't seem as strong as I thought."
"Well, they say he's not even twenty yet, no? That means he still has limitless potential for growth," Li Senshun said, defending Kim Yoo-Sung as his disciple had.
Lucio raised a thick eyebrow.
"That's a bit too optimistic, Li. Or are you already taking his side just because you're both from Asia?"
At that, a middle-aged man in a black pastor's uniform, who had been quiet until now, joined the conversation.
"Racism is a bad thing, Lucio."
"Yeah, fuck off."
The final VIP, dressed in Protestant attire that seemed out of place, was the legendary luchador who had been active in Mexico's pro-wrestling league, CMLL, for ten years—'The Immortal' William.
Despite Lucio's blatant provocation, he spoke with a gentle smile.
"We're all getting old together. I'd appreciate it if you'd refrain from such confrontational remarks."
"Tch. You become a Jesus freak in your old age and suddenly you're a saint."
"I was also surprised to see you're still as crass as ever."
"Yeah, yeah, it's all my fault."
Thanks to William's timely intervention, the potentially explosive atmosphere simmered down. Meiling gave him a slight bow of gratitude before turning her focus back to the fight between Ivan and Kim Yoo-Sung unfolding below.
*
This was the fourth time Kim Yoo-Sung had taken the Fuma clan's Ghost Pill.
Feeling the Yang energy surging from deep within him, he asked the man standing before him, "Why are you looking at me like that?"
Ivan's expression was clearly contorted.
But it wasn't due to negative emotions like fear or despair.
It was elation.
It was the look a traveler wandering the desert in search of water would make upon finally discovering an oasis.
"Finally! You finally swallowed that pill! Kim Yoo-Sung!" he shouted, running a hand through his slicked-back blue hair in excitement.
"After suffering a humiliating defeat because I let my guard down, I lay in that hospital bed and made a vow! The next time we met, I would repay this debt in full!"
So—
"From now on, come at me with everything you've got, Kim Yoo-Sung. I'm done holding back."
Faced with the unbelievable sight unfolding before him, Kim Yoo-Sung couldn't help but doubt his own eyes.
Blue lightning was discharging from Ivan's entire body.
It didn't take long for him to realize that this was a characteristic of Ivan's Ki.
The man who had never once fought seriously in all their battles was finally revealing his true colors.
The crowd outside the ring roared.
"Ivan! Ivan! Ivan!"
It was the return of the strongest, a champion forgotten by time.