Chapter 39: Instant Kill

Volume 2: Kengan : Origin

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Ren couldn't help but scoff at this world's method of carrying out executions.

Seriously, you could take a page from the Company's book on this…He paused mid-thought, shaking his head. Actually, never mind. The Company's execution methods are also grotesquely inefficient and tasteless. Besides, I've probably dismantled half of them by now.

By this point, Ren had calmed down. He realized that perhaps the EndSpace had handed him a rather decent identity.

If he wasn't mistaken, this prison also held a certain martial artist from the original story—a legendary figure who had survived multiple failed executions: Bando Yohei.

If he had entered this world at the point just before the Kengan Annihilation Tournament commenced, it wouldn't be long before someone would come to the prison to recruit fighters.

That would provide him with a perfect opportunity to secure a spot in the tournament.

The EndSpace's plan seemed well-intentioned, but it didn't entirely align with Ren's initial goals for entering this world.

As a child, he had loved this manga. Back then, he had even fantasized about learning some of its so-called 'superhuman' martial arts techniques.

Yes, in his eyes, many of the techniques in the manga were essentially superpowers. For instance, the muscle monster Julius Reinhold, who could overpower an F1 car with raw strength, or Wakatsuki Takeshi, whose muscle fibre density was 52 times that of an average person.

Not to mention the Wu and Kure Clan's Removal technique or Tokita Ohma's Advance.

Julius and Wakatsuki's physical prowess didn't impress Ren much—his own stats were already off the charts.

But he was particularly intrigued by the Removal and Advance.

To him, these techniques were explosive skills that unlocked the body's latent potential. If he could master them, they'd be a significant boon for his interdimensional journey.

So, instead of following the rules and entering the tournament in a conventional way, Ren was more interested in acquiring the world's best 'skills' first.

Clack.

While he was deep in thought, the cell door opened. The prison guard standing outside was drenched in sweat, his hands trembling so badly that the lock on the door rattled noisily.

"4...404, y-you're up," the guard stammered, clearly terrified of Ren—an infamous death row inmate.

Ren rose to his feet. Under the guard's horrified gaze, he flexed his legs and tore apart the straitjacket, freeing himself effortlessly. Calmly, he stepped out of the cell.

Seeing Ren's hands still cuffed behind his back, the trembling guard sighed in mild relief and led the way.

Once outside, they entered a small courtyard.

On the second-floor railing above stood two figures: the warden and a middle-aged man dressed in a sharp suit. The latter had an air of authority and a faint smile as he observed the scene below.

Two other inmates had already been released and stood in the courtyard. Unlike Ren, they only wore handcuffs.

The prisoner on his left was a hooded man with a sullen demeanour, while the one on his right was a towering, broad-shouldered man sporting a 'stylish' horseshoe-shaped bald head.

The warden, drenched in sweat, muttered nervously, "Letting these monsters loose is absolute madness! Do you even know who these people are? That's The Fanatic—Nagashima Ginji, who slaughtered 56 people; The Bloody Tusk—Bando Yohei, who killed 17 gangsters barehanded; and The Berserker—Ren Hoshino, who butchered 28 people, including a snakehead boss!"

Just standing here made the warden's legs tremble uncontrollably. Even though he was on the second floor, sharing the same space with these three maniacs made his skin crawl.

The suited man, however, was unfazed. He picked up a loudspeaker and smiled at the prisoners below. "The rules are simple: fight the opponent in front of you. Whether you live or die doesn't matter. If you win, you'll gain temporary freedom—and the right to wreak havoc on human bodies."

Ren glanced up at the suited man. This must be Takada Seisuke, the president of Juoh Communications, he thought with narrowed eyes.

How revolting. Everything about him—his suit, his demeanour, his tone, even the way he's perched up there like he owns the place—makes me sick.

What irked Ren the most, though, was being treated like a circus animal. To Takeda, martial artists were nothing more than tools for entertainment. What did he know about the art of combat?

Crunch.

The zealot known as Nagashima Ginji shattered his handcuffs with ease as if they were brittle candy.

The unnatural strength in his grip was a clear reminder that conventional physics didn't apply in the world of Kengan Ashura.

In fact, this world—and its inhabitants—had undergone mutations, further enhancing their physical capabilities.

"I'm no joy-killer," muttered Bando Yohei, the hulking 2-meter, 147-kilogram giant, as he flexed his seemingly elastic joints. "But I'm not ready to die, either. Guess I'll have to fight for my rights."

"Heretics deserve death! Accept my judgment!" roared Nagashima Ginji, assuming a combat stance.

Oddly enough, neither of these towering killers paid any attention to Ren. They faced off as if he wasn't even there, leaving him standing idly to the side, like a bystander at a gladiator match.

The warden and Takeda both instinctively ignored Ren as well. Compared to these two hulking brutes, his smaller frame seemed utterly inconsequential. Despite having heard about Ren's 'exploits,' they found it hard to associate his unassuming appearance with the carnage in his file.

Bang!

A sickening thud echoed as Nagashima Ginji's body hit the ground. His head had been smashed into his torso, blood spraying everywhere.

Bando Yohei slowly turned, shaking the blood from his hand. Takeda watched with excitement, while the warden froze in terror.

"You're next," Bando said, looking at Ren. "Don't worry—it'll be quick."

"W-wait…" the guard behind Ren stammered, raising a hand. "His handcuffs are still—"

Before he could finish, the cuffs on Ren's wrists exploded into fragments, scattering like shrapnel. The guard didn't even see what Ren had done.

Unlike the brute force Kōshin Oni had used earlier, Ren's cuffs disintegrated as though they had been struck by an invisible explosion.

Stretching his limbs, Ren cracked his neck, a series of sharp pops echoing in the courtyard.

"Don't worry," he said, his voice calm but cold. "When I carry out an execution, there are no mistakes."

Before his words finished echoing, Ren vanished from sight. To the average person, it was as if he had simply disappeared.

A split second later, a blur seemed to pass through Bando Yohei's position. In the next instant, Bando's massive body was airborne, his feet leaving the ground in a gravity-defying arc.

As the hulking martial artist instinctively tried to adjust his posture mid-air, attempting to curl and rotate his body, the thunderous strike had already arrived.

It was Ren's knee.

Crack.

The sound of shattering bones echoed like a hammer strike. Bando Yohei's throat, along with his cervical vertebrae, snapped cleanly. His head twisted at an unnatural angle, dangling grotesquely.

Boom!

The heavy thud of his body hitting the ground stirred up dust, mingling with the fresh blood now pooling on the earth.

Ren landed lightly, as if weightless, his prison uniform pristine and untouched by the crimson splatter.

He ignored the stunned silence of everyone present. With a crouch and a powerful leap, he shot upward, landing gracefully on the second-floor balcony.

"D-don't do anything rash…"

The warden stammered, paralyzed by the sheer absurdity of what he had just witnessed. The prison's architecture had been meticulously designed to ensure the safety of observers during these spectacles. The second-floor walkway stood over four meters above the ground—no one should have been able to leap up so effortlessly!

"Guards, shoot him!"

The warden screamed in desperation. But the guards hesitated, frozen in fear. The rubber bullets they were equipped with seemed laughably inadequate against this monster. Even if they could subdue Ren eventually, the warden doubted he would survive to see that outcome.

And yet, it wasn't just fear that kept them immobilized. It was something more primal—an oppressive, invisible force emanating from Ren.

Despite his frame being far less imposing than Bando Yohei's or the zealot Nagashima Ginji's, his aura filled the space entirely.

It was suffocating, as though every corner of the room now belonged to him. Within this domain, life and death were his to dictate.

Takada Seisuke, the man in the suit, initially bore a look of terror. But his expression twisted into something else—unbridled, maniacal delight.

"Magnificent! You'll make a fine hunting dog! With you, with your strength, I'll finally—"

His words were cut short.

Just like his deluded ambitions, Takeda's life ended abruptly. His body crumpled backwards, a shocked expression frozen on his face.

The last thing his eyes captured was Ren's cold, detached gaze.

"Go to hell and find yourself a new hunting dog," Ren said flatly, stepping past Takeda's lifeless form.

Without sparing a glance, he walked by the trembling warden, who shrank back in fear, clutching the railing as though it might save him.

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[T/N] - Thanks for all the support you guys have shown the last week! Here's an Extra Chapter!

Oh and, 60 Powerstone for another Extra Chapter!