On the Right Track

It's been at least a few years since Vincent stepped foot in Japan. He didn't bother to count the specific years as his sense of time was irreparably damaged from a messed up internal clock from choosing random times to fall asleep or not fall asleep at all.

His features aren't Japanese, yet his black hair helps him fit in at least a bit. Stares and the like can grate on a person especially when kids do it. Vincent just wanted to take a nice walk through Tokyo while inhaling some smog and think about the past.

The reason behind his reminiscing is the fact that he got into a brawl with a bunch of thugs in a back alley. Normally, he'd expect to take a couple of blows before he put all of them down, but not even his glasses were disturbed. It was off-putting in a way that made Vincent feel a strange sense of boredom, one strong enough that made him think about returning to the Slaughter Coliseum.

The young man sighed and readjusted his glasses before moving out of the ruined alleyway, cracks running alongside the walls and ground. There was a saying in America that amusingly came to mind at this moment: "Step on a crack and break your mother's back."

The fact that came to mind means he probably needs to sleep.

"Don't you fucking walk away from me!" A roar prompted the foreigner to turn around, though not with any noticeable haste, and he faced a glinting knife aiming straight for his chest. He had enough time to dodge, yet he chose the foolish action of holding his palm out and letting the blade pierce it before snatching it away blade-first.

Blood sprayed from the wound as Vincent took the weapon away from the dumbfounded thug. While the punk was off guard, Vincent swung his arm straight into the man's chin with the hilt of the knife that was still lodged in his hand securing the necessary force to knock the man out.

An additional spray of blood accompanied Vincent's action of yanking the knife out of his hand without a care. The blood would eventually dry and the wound would eventually heal.

He just needed to feel that sensation of pain. That was the reason behind his reckless blocking of the knife.

This was also a reason why Vincent was in Japan.

He grew tired of traveling throughout America and finding nothing that could kill him. He was a survivor that, even if he was unable to beat superior foes, those people were unable to kill him. Vincent was abnormal in the sense that he longed for death.

He's tried multiple things that would kill a normal person, yet his odd constitution proved to be resilient to even the most daredevil of acts. So, he decided to slip into the underground world to get involved in death matches. The money was a pain to deal with, but it's not like starvation would kill him, so he could go into debts taking loans just to pick fights.

Vincent won and lost many fights around the world. Now, he's been traveling all throughout the East and finally ending in Japan where he's been staying for years now.

"Should I consider checking out Purgatory? No, they're not really into death matches." He finished with the Slaughter Coliseum, but where else could he find opponents that escaped the realms of normality?

"Well what about the Kengan Matches?"

That outspoken thought didn't come from Vincent. The man turned around to see an overweight man dressed in a business suit. The shorter man has a strange bit of composure as he stood around beaten down bodies.

As for what he said...

"Well, I did think a little about that, but that requires having somebody hire me. Do I even have the credentials for someone to look at me favorably for this?" Vincent looked in the sky absentmindedly.

"I am the CEO of Under Mount Corporation." The heavyset man cut straight to the chase. Vincent's tired eyes flicked down to his immediately, a small amount of excitement glimmering in his pupils.

There's a number of reasons why the man went after Vincent of all people for something this important, yet the tired fighter didn't feel the urge to contemplate the details. All he needed to do was fight until his body dropped permanently. It didn't matter who was purchasing his services or why really.

"Boss," Vincent accepted with ease.

"Eh, really?" The CEO was caught off guard and his earlier composure seemed to be an illusion as he rubbed his forehead in surprise. "It was that easy?"

"What's your name?" The overweight man collected himself and donned a neutral smile.

"My name is Ohta Masahiko and I already know your name for convenience's sake. Now, can you sign here, here, and here?" The CEO brought out papers from his suit as if he planned this all along. He shoved them into Vincent's hand with a hint of urgency and he pulled out a pen with haste.

Vincent didn't know what the man's business entailed and the fact that he was trying to speed up this process was suspicious. Of course, he ignored all that and signed all the papers without a care, not even reading the documents let alone the fine print that's certain to be present.

"That's great! How do you feel about doing a match right now?"

Vincent sighed and finally understood the rush. If he were a normal fighter, then he probably would've declined or taken more time before deciding, yet he is Vincent Walker. A man who crazily longs for the dangerous borders of death. The edges of his cheeks rose and produced an exhausted thing.

"I haven't slept in a bit and I'm feeling a bit hungry, but I guess I can spare the energy for a match or two. Let's get going."

"Right this way then." Vincent noticed that was a subservient choice of words, but he paid it no heed. He followed the shorter man into a car and then the driver took off with speeds that were most likely against the limits of the road.

After a few minutes, Ohta began speaking: "What do you know about the Kengan Matches?"

"Hmmmmm. I know that big businesses use it as a means to settle stuff and fighters have to get hired, but that's about it." You readjusted your glasses, thinking if there was anything else you knew about it. "That's all I know it seems."

"Well, you'll get a taste for things once you reach your match. I'll explain the intricacies afterward."

Vincent looked over at Ohta. "You seem pretty confident in my victory."

The man only smiled in response.

The car ride was quiet after that momentary conversation, only the low hum of the vehicle serving as noise preventing Vincent from getting some proper rest. Once the ride ended, Vincent exited the vehicle and took in the abandoned cluster of buildings. He's guessing he'll have to walk further to reach his destination.

"Just a little bit further and you'll get your fight. It's taking place in an underground parking lot." Vincent allowed himself to smile at that notion. Another underground fight and it's the most famous type: the Kengan Matches. He could only dream of participating in these fights, but that dream has now been granted.

He's a newbie, but what Vincent does know is that this is where some of the best fighters in Japan are located. There are still others who don't take place in the Kengan Matches, yet are obscenely powerful, but they aren't taking death matches unfortunately. Even the ones that are taking death matches can't be found, so this is the next best thing.

Vincent stuffed his hands down his jacket's pockets and slightly slouched forward while walking lazily. He gave off the impression of a fighter with low spirit as he walked alongside his employer. Trudging through the doorway, he looked around and counter over fifty people in the room without having to turn his head.

This was a legitimate underground match. He smiled.

"If you win this fight, then we'll have more fights ready for you." He nodded to his CEO, but took note of the odd phrasing.

We?

He shook his head.

"I was beginning to think you weren't going to show up." Another businessman strolled up to Ohta with a look of exasperation. Vincent took minor note of him before yawning. "And is this your fighter? He's different from the last one."

Vincent's boss wore a wry smile in response. "There were some complications, but that's been resolved."

"Good. Now, let's get this done!" The man spun on his heel and walked away with full confidence in his own victory. Before Ohta said anything to his new fighter, Vincent was already walking through the encirclement and stopped just a meter short before his tall opponent.

Naturally, he had to get his body searched by officials to make sure he wasn't carrying anything that would give him an unfair advantage, like a weapon or body armor. Carrying those things would go against what Vincent wants anyways, so it's natural that he was given the clear to enter the unfenced ring.

He had to look up at the man, someone who worked out extensively as proven by his dense musculature. It was obvious to all that he had the height and weight advantage over Vincent.

"So, who are you?" Yet, Vincent didn't have a shred of anxiety within him. His easy smile looked like it could weather a tornado without dipping in the slightest. It was like a cloud.

"If you don't know me, then let me tell you! I am Murobuchi Gozo! I am a famous man, so you can find all the details online if you care to look me up later. Right now, we have a match to settle."

Vincent looked around and noticed people were irritated.

Oh, so he was late.

"Yeah, sorry about that. Let's get this done then."

"Are you ready?!" The referee decided the time to begin the match was long overdue and got into position quickly. Vincent and Murobuchi faced each other with different types of grins: one was lazy and the other was indomitably fierce.

"Take your stance!"

Murobuchi's stance looked like he was setting up for a shoulder charge. It was odd and Vincent couldn't really predict what the man's fighting style was, but that's fine. He was planning on taking damage first anyway.

Vincent didn't take a stance.

"Begin!!"

Murobuchi shot off like a bullet and began with a front kick that landed squarely on Vincent's solar plexus. The impact was akin to a cannonball and the newbie to the Kengan Matches was sent flying.

The attack was heavy.

But Vincent didn't fall to the ground.