Chapter 31
Chapter 31
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 31
Chapter Title: Fox God VTuber Climbing the Tower
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The Fist King faced the woman who had filled him with such anticipation ever since the tower's appearance.
It might sound sentimental, but this excitement felt just like heading to a date spot for the first time to meet his wife.
It was that big a deal. For Japan's strongest man, who had conquered the tower with nothing but his honed fists.
Others called him a fool, asking if it was really necessary. He'd endured those petty questions flying his way nonstop. He never showed it, but they always left scars on his heart.
He still clung to his dreams amid a changing era, even as he grew old and faced setbacks.
His heart raced like he'd met the actor from the tokusatsu show he idolized as a kid.
—Going back in time.
Oyama Masahiko, now called the 【Fist King】.
At 55, he was a human weapon who'd mastered karate and every martial art imaginable—Japan's strongest climber, no question.
Before the tower appeared, he was just known as a "master." After it showed up, he dove in like he was possessed, blindly at first, then with a sticky obsession, honing his martial prowess layer by layer.
He'd crushed over five towers, and the floors he'd toppled numbered 90. His strength needed no explanation.
Of course, clueless folks or foolish climbers sometimes sneered that the tower had lowered its difficulty because he climbed "bare-handed."
Just jealousy. He ignored it.
But still—
"For the sake of martial discipline, I always told my students not to bring women to the dojo, not even for initiation... but here I am, breaking my own rule..."
It was vast. The grounds were enormous, and the number of buildings was beyond counting.
It rivaled the lord's mansion from some period drama.
But it was quiet. Compared to the sprawling estate, the number of training disciples was pathetically small—barely 40. And even among them, to Wakamo's eyes, only a handful seemed truly dedicated.
"Did I keep you waiting? Even with the Fist King title, no one's joining my school. Zero this year."
"..."
"Heh... I hear taekwondo dojos are always popular in Korea. But in Japan? This is it. Even after the tower showed up and martial arts got revered again, dojos are still this pathetic."
The dojo itself was spotless, meticulously maintained. The outdoor sparring ground had nary a weed or pebble.
The training spots for the disciples she'd glimpsed on the way in had worn mats, torn-up gear with years of use etched in—but the dojo itself felt like one man's handiwork, flashy and modernized.
Too few people.
"Thanks for indulging my selfish request. I heard you've weakened, but does that not matter?"
"I'd actually love the chance to learn from you."
Wakamo spoke politely and courteously, but the Fist King—still seeming to misunderstand—looked moved, his eyes growing misty.
He'd offered tea since he had something to say before they fought, but when she said she'd listen standing, he adjusted his threadbare martial uniform—faded but intact—and hesitantly began.
"When the tower first appeared and the world fell into chaos... I was thrilled. I'm 55 now. Started at the dojo with my stern father at age 5, so that's 50 years this year."
Ten years ago, the towers and awakened climbers emerged. And Oyama Masahiko awakened too.
He unleashed his honed martial arts on hordes of monsters without restraint. But since they weren't human, he sometimes got flattened by magic-like [skills], or pathetically knocked out.
It wasn't sparring—it was kill-or-be-killed. Spears impaled him, swords severed limbs, arrows pierced eyes. Climbing healed wounds, but the pain and fear lingered.
Yet he pressed on, suppressing it all.
"There were none..."
"What?"
"Besides me, no Japanese climber relies purely on their body like a brute."
Yes—he was frustrated.
As times changed, martial arts for self-defense shifted from training tools to relics. Now they were just opening ceremony shows, overseas performances, tourist gimmicks. Or for has-beens dreaming of national teams or fighting in UFC-like leagues for non-climbers.
From martial arts (武) for combat to performative dance (舞).
But that wasn't bad. Protecting oneself was enough; being called a master and intangible cultural asset satisfied him.
Most similar trades followed suit.
Until the towers.
"They learn swords, spears, archery. Heh... back to a barbaric age. Climbers flock to sects, chasing honor, glory, wealth. Their investments keep sects growing."
Even in this era, dojos were dying unchanged. Self-defense training, close-quarters when disarmed? Pointless with [tower exits] and [skills].
"I wanted to prove it with my honed body. But they just call me a weirdo."
In an age of proving strength by slaying foes and climbing towers, this martial artist who'd devoted his life to the art now eyed Wakamo. She'd never expected such a serious talk... VTubers just said they'd done karate as kids.
Even taekwondo academies were just modern babysitters for busy parents.
In an era upended by the shocking towers, with resources pouring out—including stuff Earth never had—ushering in humanity's golden age. Yet here was Wakamo, facing a dying trade.
VTubing, meanwhile, was a new-age job born from peace, cultural boom, civilization.
"Truth is... embarrassing at my age, but I got curious why you're so obsessed. So I checked out VTubers."
He paused.
Jealousy, he admitted.
"My late-blooming son loves that otaku stuff. Wondered why anyone gets hooked. Turns out, big corporations in Japan started that way. Heard the founder grabbed her friend's hand, marched to the CEO dreaming of idolhood, and got funding for that reckless venture."
From business models where idols drive the company, to live-streaming when uploads were peak—pioneering it to connect with fans. That spirit shaped the company, birthing the live-streaming content era.
Beyond that, she built a top Japanese megacorp without quitting, mentoring rising stars who overtook her in fame, forming a massive group.
"They charge ahead on dreams alone, with youthful passion on a dim path. The prez who believed in that fire and invested... made me jealous. Dreams fulfilled. If old martial legends are past idols, new-age ones feel like this. Way more popular than an old guy's shows."
Too late for seven seas voyages, too early for space adventures. Yet some chase recklessness, pioneering. Not all succeed, but unwavering faith and resolve to dreams do.
Wakamo walked paths they'd paved.
"I got inspired by their hard work and became a fan. Embarrassing, but I get the appeal. And that VTuber shows the martial arts I love. —Wanted to meet you."
New-age idol meets millennium-old warrior.
"The red pill's taboo, though."
"I know. Feels stalker-ish; wanna hide."
"But I get it. You want your dreams fulfilled... your lifelong efforts to shine. Martial arts reduced to shows, still called a weirdo post-tower... I hear you. Dreams aren't impossibilities. They're resolve to achieve what you want. Chasing that passion? Human nature."
Don't greedily grasp those stars—just cheer their fire. Not quite idols, but those sparkling stars who never quit striving. Wakamo loved dreaming VTubers.
"What's wrong with dreaming? Or admitting you adore what captivates you?"
That was enough. That heart sufficed.
Sad he couldn't buy VTuber figs or merch, though.
Nothing beats chatting with someone honest about shared hobbies.
VTubers, idols, martial artists—all lonely without fans.
"—Mind if I talk about this on stream as content?"
He spread his arms.
"No worries. I know revealing a VTuber's identity is taboo."
The Fist King assumed position.
Rules were set: no attack [skills]. Just sparring—no vital strikes or lethals. But Wakamo saw opportunity. Where else to witness Japan's strongest's 50-year martial legacy?
"Show me everything you've built your life on!"
Excitement for a true warrior lit his face with a smile—and his heel shot at her eyes. No [skill]. Pure trained speed.
She dodged visually, lunging for his ankle—but his heel nailed her nape instantly.
Couldn't track it; her eyes caught only afterimages. She couldn't dial back climber stats fully, but they were power-matched.
Jaw, throat, collarbone, chest, gut—fists and kicks rained in blinks.
As she charged arms-wide, he didn't retreat—instead burrowed in, circling behind.
Footprints showed his path; she snatched the incoming straight punch blind, shoved, counterpunched.
He parried, she feinted wrist grab—he leaped, kicking her face.
No breather; relentless barrage, eyes open-dodging.
"As expected, you were holding back!!"
Focusing vision keeps eyes open, huh.
No time to marvel her model's unknown feature(?); block, parry, deflect dozens of phantom limbs—her taekwondo unused, pure defense/evasion.
Then crashing inner thigh reap.
But she didn't waver.
As he pressed back-close, grabbing collar to throw, she yielded slightly airborne. Flipping pre-headplant to counter-throw him—but toes snagged her hair, flipping midair via legs alone.
Slammed sensation; fingers stabbed ground.
Impossible balance—flipped, legs-as-arms kicking; first chest kick landed, fox-like twist-landing, stepping.
Taekwondo guard—footwork. Follow-up kicks.
Razor winds, flashy technique—but opponent far superior.
Seamless gap-close: ridgehand waist, palm-heel jaw, knee-kick dropping her to knees.
Head-slammed, limbs joint-locked by Fist King.
100kg+ adult atop.
Balance broken—even climbers struggle.
But opponent defied physics.
Finger-strength lift entire.
Leap-midair; he escaped late, but she snagged him.
7+ spins, arena-floor impale throw.
No ukemi; waist-snap stood him grinning.
He was thrilled.
Millennia-honed warrior! Fireman-carry feel: mountain-massive.
If not letting the throw? Horrified at inescapable single-grab.
One-arm grip crushing gripforce.
Warrior power from lower body. Unyielding clashes, smiling through his techs.
Not monster—fellow martial artist matching skill-for-skill. Ecstasy fueled fiercer will.
Truth: Wakamo took more techs, knee-dropping, loosening for hits—secret. Strikes? Zero damage. Fireman-yielded to gauge master level.
And it's content.
Tracked all attacks visually, parried blindspots. Camera-trick, but must look masterful or disappoint.
Judo fails, single-grab doom—Fist King thrilled, unleashing 50-year arsenal. Wakamo recording all for later study/content.
Win-win anyway.
"Die, wicked yokai—!!"
Then.
Ninja appeared.
Zero warning—leapt from tree, ninja-clad assailant drew blade at her back.
Fist King gawked to warn—
But viewpoint-share alerted Wakamo; deep crouch, scorpion-kick back.
Taekwondo scorpion caught descending blade—toe-snag halt.
Precisely, not slashed—caught. Master or thug, it'd look same.
Reflex-stunned ninja hurled, rolled, gawked.
'Knew it'd come, not like this.'
Manager Won Da-hye warned of Japan Association head attacks.
But this?!
Told not to go solo deserted spots... camping convenience store dawn? Lynched.
"Oh— no miko, but ninja?"
"Evil great yokai! This super ninja will exorcise you!!"
"Ah, just otaku."
Cool look ruined by dumb mouth; Wakamo sighed—furious ninja hurled shuriken. One-hand snatch; ninja dumbfounded. Chain devil prep insufficient?
Practiced, obvs! Cool!!
"I'm tower-approved ninja!!!"
Solo meltdown; Wakamo baffled.
"Me too, tower-approved VTuber."
"Mocking me!!!"
[Skill]-charging ninja crumpled. Enraged Fist King's sincere strike soccer-balled him away.
Waiting disciples swarmed: kicks, stomps, binds.
"Think I spared you. One hit drops? You'd die."
Ah, not full-power on me either.
Amazing [Idol's Body]!! No pain, unnoticed!!!
"Shall we continue?"
"Heh... no... that's enough."
Showed arm: throw-grip swollen-broken?
"Superb grip... millennia-honed warrior's different..."
...Wakamo vowed protect warrior's dream. Santa real, fox god real. Listened to his tales of her daunting solidity, iron lower body. Beyond expectations, age-forgotten childlike joy.
Real fight with [mana]? One-shot dead.
Self-proclaimed taekwondo master? Real deal different.
"Reading/dodging with eyes, not reflexes—impressive!! Grateful for pull. Real combat? I'd lose instantly. Unleashed everything. Felt like pounding cliff. Still far to go!!"
Yeah... happy's good...
VTubers don't despair at red pills. Dreams shatter?
Wakamo protects dreams.
Also, cliff-firmer than cliff—his fists odd?
'Mana at 100k...'
40k from few hits?!
※※※
Spar ended.
Ninja crash killed vibe; Fist King halted pre-overheat. Arm healed 20sec.
Tower conquerors inhuman...
Sipping tea leisurely, explained bound ninja.
"Our Japan's 『Legendary Class』. Young, but true ninja-recognized. Mie University's grad program has 'Ninja/Ninjutsu Studies.' Top talent, but Association head calls him eccentric..."
"More worries?"
"Shaman Association calls you revived great yokai to exorcise. Won't enter here. Worry not—if they do, I'll smash."
Fist King's guest-code: no rudeness tolerated. Aura-warping rage first-time seen.
Content gold!!
"Heard from Association head: wanna use new item in Japan tower... Gov fears misuse, tax office customs, Finance Ministry riot. So what? Just get permit, go. Politicos scheming usage meantime."
"..."
"Shady, huh?"
"Didn't think that far..."
"Japan'd bore anyone. Heard you hit Inari Shrine. Fox god... ahem. VTuber needs holy sites? Build mini-shrine, pull crowds?"
Uncle surprisingly VTuber-savvy. Corner: mismatched brigade leader tapestry. Cute doll...? Real fan.
Martial/VTuber obsessives grow trades.
Embracing new? Admirable.
Advice tempting.
'Fox god shrine... not bad?'
Japan has VTuber sites; Korea too?
Mine ok?
[Climber demand confirmed. Approved.]
Ding.
[Build Idol's Symbol? Unlocks 『Companion』founding.]
What alarm? Companion... me?
Tower just tossed?!
"Build here ok?"
Japan excuse, dojo crowd-puller holy site(?). Fox god popular; Kyoto Inari—another fine.
"Sure!"
"Then here."
"Huh?"
Light gathered; [Miniature Shrine] popped. Drawer-sized box-held mini-shrine stunned Fist King; bound ninja lifted head shocked.
Wakamo unknown too.
Shelf-plopped; Fist King panicked better spot, outdoor arena-visible. He left: "Big better—contacting someone."
Then Kyoto-wide blare alarm.
[Climber Wakamo Inarizushi founds new 『Companion』! 『Idol's Shrine』installed in Kyoto!]
'Japan-wide?'
Please no.
Worry; Companion info dinged.
[Companion]
[Group: Idol's Shrine]
[Shrine worshiping/revering idols]
[Join Req: Idol]
"Whoa, trash!"
Hate saying—useless Companion! Idol join...? Job=Idol(VTuber)?
[Tower provides settled reward]
[Acquire Companion Skill [Rain Dance]!]
Companion Skill [Rain Dance]
-Req: Idol's Shrine member.
Rain falls during cast.
Dance continuous mana drain.
"Trash skill!!"
[Tower settles Climber Wakamo rewards; provides 『Myth』-grade item for feats!]
[Acquired Myth-grade item [Kusanagi's Sword]!]
[Kusanagi's Sword]
Grade: Myth.
Authentic lost in Dan-no-ura battle.
Rare metals reforged.
Ceremonial sword, bladeless.
Idol-only use.
Ritual success x2.
Charm +50%
Idol skills +50%
Believers' stamina +50%
"...Total trash item!!"
[Acquire Job Skill 【Broadcast Points】!]
Job Skill 【Broadcast Points】
-Grant believers boons with stream-earned points.
Current: 542.
"F-f-fuck!!!"
Wakamo cursed.
Tower: "Japan you craved? Customized special!"
Sees Wakamo: "Aha! Idol stuff! Piled your fave idol skills!"
Cumulative rewards invested: absurd cheats now!! Gifts galore.
"Why this crap—!!!"
Trembling shock at unimaginable rewards brief.
'Kusanagi for gacha prayer? x2 success? Gacha content king?'
VTuber-stream-hardened Wakamo reflexed content idea.
P.S. No charm stat—no effect.
Shrine-contact-left Fist King rushed back at her yell.
Couldn't explain.
"Nothing..."
Swallowing tears, Wakamo had no choice.