<13th Fight: Quo Vadis? Persona Non Grata.>

-

-XOXOXOX-

"Not trying to brag or anything, but I'm sorta something like a master chef.

You see, it's like a feeling that I've had… A burning, shining sensation... It was something that just made me into a genius of the culinary world I guess.

I mean for crying out loud, when I made Shintarou my specialty dish, 'Thousand Heavens Nature Ramen'; a delectable meal made from the animals and green of the earth, he was so amazed that he even shed tears! Talking about 'Never thought he'd even see the pearly gates of heaven instead of hell, much less meet his grandma there' or something like that.

Heh, I didn't even know he had a grandma!

Not gonna lie, it did put a smile on my face knowing that my cooking did that. Now that I remember, even Mother and the maids couldn't help tearing up once I get to cooking… Whenever they would eat 'normal' food they would then start to weep silently, wetting themselves with their own tears.

-Obviously, they were sad that the meals couldn't compare to mine, I bet. In fact, they'd even start crying if I even said the word 'Cooking'!

Though Shintarou was talking about taking me to some 5-star restaurant once we were done with one of his jobs…

-I gotta wonder, what for though? Not to be arrogant or anything, but I'm pretty sure that I can blow their skills out of the water… So what for?

Once again, not that I wanna brag or anything, but I'm pretty sure that I can be perfect at absolutely anything I train at it in time, even cooking."

-Myoujou Kurogami's Self Titled Journal Entry; "GOD TONGUE; The God Of Cooking" (Excerpt).

-XOXOXOX-

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-?, A CERTAIN HOUSEHOLD-

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-XOXOXOX-

Within an eastern dojo sprawling with a rustic simplicity situated in the town of Tokyo, Japan, a spectacular aura spilled forth endlessly, seeping through the very greenery itself, moving as if they were trying to escape from the dojo.

And from the middle of the green field, one could see where the aura from before was spilling out.

It was a tall imposing figure, easily around two meters with long blonde hair and a blonde beard with a well-sculpted face quite suited for a fearsome warrior.

-And who was this man?

This man was none other than Furinji Hayato 'The Legendary Master', the man known as "The Invincible Superman", hailing from the Furinji Clan, and the name of this dojo he owned was 'Ryozanpaku'.

Befitting of his title, Furinji Hayato was an old figure within the Martial Arts Community, an undefeated force of nature that participated in many fights and battles of a bygone era where he reigned supreme, soundly defeating even those who wielded the modern marvels of man such as tanks, guns, and weapons as they had no effectiveness against the likes of him.

But most importantly, this man was an advocate of the 'Katsujinken/ Life Saving Fist' way of life. He was one of the many that believed life itself was sacred and that one man can not take another's life, hence he never fought to kill, but to always end fights with those involved alive, eternally seeking to preserve the lives of all.

And though many, many people may disagree with his way of living, he still managed to remain steadfast in his belief as he stands undefeated in the Martial Arts World.

After all, if you're that strong and still alive, then you can't be completely wrong, right?

Though, unlike the fearsome aura the muscular blonde gave off, his facial expressions remained impassive and calm as he continued to meditate.

"Haaaaahhh..."

"!"

Opening his eyes, the blue crystalline orbs shone with a fierce aura as personified hot winds flew out rustling the areas and surroundings before finally cooling down, returning to the meek, cool temperatures it once was before.

Even if one were to be afflicted with blindness, they would still be able to tell that this man was a Master at Martial Arts

-No. Most definitely even beyond that.

-Caw!, Caw!-

A carrier pigeon landed on the outstretched hands of the man as he calmly rustles the feathers of the bird before untying the letter attached to its back.

"Well, well, little birdie... Would you like a treat?" The muscular boulder of a man asked, placing the letter at the side as he reached into the pockets of his robe, unrolling several candies and lollies from their wrappers before chomping down on them happily.

-tweet.-

The bird left.

'Haaa... Guess that's a no then... Well, maybe he's not fond of sweets.' Shaking his head, the man unfurled the letter he received.

-

-'To Furinji Hayato, from Furinji Shizuka'

-

'Oh, Shizuha? This time it's from the wife of my idiot son.' Hayato said, chuckling as he opened the letter.

It was always good to hear about his son, daughter-in-law, and his grandchild since they lived quite a distance from him in Tokyo, and he would commonly read letters sent by them. In a way, these weekly and monthly updates he made them be sure to send were his revenge against his son for deciding to live somewhere far away from him where he couldn't see his precious granddaughter twenty-four-seven.

-"Hmph! Because of you, I haven't been able to see my precious granddaughter because she lives so far away!" Would be a common complaint coming from Furinji Hayato.

Fortunately, due to him being Japanese himself, this 'grudge' if you could call it that wouldn't cause him to yell something along the lines of; 'I won't forgive the Japanese!", like a certain bizarre fedora-wearing old man that lost one of his hand in a 'car' accident with a camera smashing hobby.

"He- Hooh..."

Though on the other hand, after reading through the letter his good mood would simmer down rapidly, like a pot of hot water left out in the cold outdoors, quickly subsiding as it got cooler, and cooler after reading through the letter.'

-

'-As much as I would like to say that everything amongst us has been sailing smoothly at the Kuremisago, unfortunately, I cannot say so if I were to remain completely honest.

As you may have heard, friction between the clan has sent them splintering off into two different forces against each other in a battle of ideals, traditions, and principles... And as the climate steadily grew tenser, so will the anger and negative emotions of our clansmen.

It may be naive, but I pray that we could all get along once more, and that the slowly dwindling numbers of the Kuremisago would stop, and its manors and rooms would be filled once more just like the older days that have passed.'

-

The letter from his daughter-in-law spoke intensely about the trepid state of affairs of the Kurmeisago Clan, the constant wars, infighting, and the general down mood there. She also spoke of the dwindling numbers of their own clan but that wasn't what garnered his attention

-

'-It has truly been rough for Saiga, having to deal with all of this, though he remains strong for Miu, Senzui, I, and everyone that depend and fight alongside him...

I only hope that the weight on his back eases up, and everything turns out alright in the end...'

-'Sincerely, Furinji Shizuha.'

-

The following paragraphs spoke in great detail about his son, Furinji Saiga. His son's struggles on the path of life, and his life with his new family.

Getting quieter than it already could be, so quiet that you could hear a pin drop, Furinji Hayato cast a steely expression, placing the letter aside with a heavy hand befitting a heavy heart.

'This…. This doesn't sound like good news whatsoever…'

The sorrowful yet hopeful feelings that emanated from the handwritten letter were enough to tell Furinji Hayato's guts and instincts what was wrong, and whenever he listened to them, they never let him down.

Something amiss seemed to be brewing at the Kuremisago, and he didn't like the implications whatsoever.

"Hmmn... Something urgent such as this..." Furinji Hayato stood up abruptly, staring at the sky as he made up his mind.

"I should go and check it out myself."

And with that, the Old Master Furinji Hayato leaped up, and made haste as he left his dojo.

He had a destination in mind, and if his instincts were right...

Something truly vile and sinister was afoot.

-XOXOXOX-

-

-? LOCATION-

-

-XOXOXOX-

'So it is that time again… The frosty period of the winter season…'

Little by little, the miniature crystallized flakes of ice slowly began to fill the sky, moistening the ground as it fell forming little patches of pure white around the empty forest lands, and in the center of it all, was one lone man casting his gaze upwards to the heavens.

It was none other than the young master and future head of the Kuremisago Clan, a man who was said to be 'talent incarnate' who very few could ever hope to equal in the coming years.

-Kuremisago Senzui.

With his medium black hair slicked back, and calm black eyes, he painted a serene picture of calmness and neutrality, however, his true intentions were anything but neutral.

There were many things that he wanted and expected in this life.

Some he was able to obtain, and others had unfortunately slipped from his grasp.

He had loved a woman before, but it wasn't in fate's decree for them to be together.

He had felt great warmth from his family, but in the end, even his own father had been slain by his hands at the height of his clan's feuds.

And he had wanted his clans to be fruitful, multiply, and rise even higher within the world, but the feuds resulting in blood spilled between his clan members had lessened the members of his clan, slowly changing the once-bustling Kuremisago Clan into a ghost town.

But most of all… There was something that he really desired…

-And that was 'change'.

Why was this?

For a long time, the Kuremisago had been entangled in a perpetual battle amongst themselves, from those who held the doctrine of pursuing the height of 'Martial Arts' by killing and slaughtering without emotions, and those who found such lengths to be unnecessary, hoping not to have to kill anymore even if a middle ground couldn't be found.

-'With the birth of a new generation, so will new schools of thought be born.' -Some would say.

But what they did agree on, was that they couldn't get along, nor could they ever realize their ideals without fighting each other

-And so they fought one another.

-And then when things seemed peaceful, they fought again.

-And then they fought, over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over again.

-And then they even fought some more after that!

-Just how many times did they fight one another, you ask?

-Too damned much.

The declining population of their clan held no weight in some of their minds if it meant that the opposing side would continue their contrary way of thought, and so they continued to fight even more.

Senzui however wanted to change this way of life, and in fact, it was his penultimate goal leading to the finale of his lifelong plans.

-Friends?

-Comrades?

-Family?

To Senzui, who used to be a man that cherished such notions, they now became mere pawns of a game of chess, pieces of varying value that were simply needed to push this game forward into its next stage.

-And the mercenaries?

They were nothing more than glorified paparazzi, entities that he planned on disposing of personally when he was finished with his current situation just so that their disappearances alongside the massacre of his own clansfolk would spark a whole new tale of infamy within the Martial World.

He wanted people to know, he wanted people to snoop around, and he wanted people to find out.

This incident he manufactured at the height of his clan's civil unrest was crafted for his clansmen's safety, even though it would lead to many to their demise.

Though, among the drivel of fodder and trash alike, there was all but one exception.

-The man named Satou Shintarou, whose epithet was known as the 'Phantom Titan'

Appearing nearly a decade or two ago from the obscure depths of The Inside, the 'Phantom Titan' was a giant of a man and as elusive as one can be, known to disappear like a ghost when he felt like it.

In a way, it was almost a work of art how one that possessed such a nonchalant, 'devil-may-care' attitude and a robust frame as he did manage to reduce his presence to almost nothing at all in the blink of an eye.

Seeing his worth, Senzui wanted to recruit this Shintarou into his personal group he had been busy creating for years on end.

-A group that after his goals in this place were accomplished would help catapult not only him, but eventually the entirety of Japan into a new era, or so he believed.

-YAMI.

And to make such a dream into reality, he planned on recruiting many, many martial artists from across the globe at all costs.

And so, he sent out many invitation letters.

-To the fierce yet devoted 10th Dan Karate Grandmaster and head of the Shinshinkai Karate School; 'The Tiger Slayer' Doppo Orochi.

-To the many deadly members of a powerful notorious clan of assassins known throughout the criminal underworld as The Taboo Descendants known as 'The Kure Clan'.

And to a renowned assassin within the criminal underworld, boasting a near-perfect success rate with his deadly techniques, 'The Devil Lance' Kuroki Gensai.

In fact, he even sent out an invitation to a man shrouded in infamy named Silkwat Jenezad, 'The Hero of Tidet' that was also known as the famed 'Kenmashajin/ Demon God Fist'. He was known to be frighteningly adept at nearly every form of 'Silat', daring to call the version he devoutly practiced as 'Supreme Silat', and was rumored to be at least on a level higher than what any master could ever hope to achieve.

-Truly, such a man was beginning to be revered as a 'God', if not a 'Demon' of Martial Arts, an unkillable existence soon etched into the annals of history in the 'Underground World'.

Well, though he has yet to receive a response as expected, Senzui didn't fret about that matter.

'Maybe I should invite 'The Ogre' into my little group?' Senzui wondered, chuckling softly as he pictured the odds of such a man agreeing. 'Though, with a willful guy like him… I bet it might be quite hectic, I presume...'

The Ogre, Hanma Yujiro was known to be quite the 'pot-stirrer' if anyone unfortunate enough to be in his presence were to agree. Known as either a heroic god in some countries or a dastardly devil in others, he was a man that possessed overwhelming strength to not only go against almost all of the greatest fighters in this world, but to contest them on all fronts; skill, technique, and power, if not defeat them completely.

Though, in all honesty, he was quite sure that 'The Ogre' would certainly reject his invitation.

But things like that didn't matter to Senzui. After all, the strong had a right whether to or not to consent, and the weak had no choice but to consent.

'That is the way of the world.' Senzui believed.

Thinking of such topics, Senzui let out a soft exhale as he closed his eyes. And while he stood still letting the snowflakes settle on his personage, his mind eventually drifted from The Ogre towards a certain disciple of interest within the Kuremisago Mountains, the disciple in question being none other than Kurogami Myoujou.

'That boy… Though young, the talent within him is undeniable -The choice of bringing him alongside you and training him in the fiery depths of life rather than a peaceful climate certainly was the correct one.'

Senzui felt that the boy not only held a familiar countenance to said Ogre, but also the last name seemed to ring a few bells, calling back to a resemblance of someone that currently escaped his mind… But most of all, he had that hunger in his eyes. And he recognized those kinds of eyes...

Embedded deep within the amber-brown crystal orbs of his, that thirst and hunger for power swirled ominously within that boy.

It was hidden deep within the boy's subconscious, like a brief flash of light in the night-clad darkness, and no matter how cool, non-caring, and nonchalant the boy would try and play it off, an experienced master like himself would always be able to spot it. No matter how well-hidden it may be.

'Such passion... I'm almost jealous that the Titan found him first, but no worries.'

After all, how could Senzui not recognize it? It was the same flame he possessed that greedily sought strength at all costs, and seeing it in the young boy intrigued him.

'Hmmn. 'Man', or 'Monster'...' He opened his eyes to look at the darkening skies. ' -'Deva', 'Asura', or 'Bodhisattva'...'

'How curious…' A small smile briefly flashed on Senzui's lips.

'I wonder which path you will take...?'

'Kurogami Myoujou.'

-FWOOOSH!-

Just as Senzui turned to face his current guests, his attendants shawled in robes darker than the stygian night sky appeared in gusts like the wind with speeds well surpassing the likes of even the best of Olympic athletes many times over.

-It was the time to enact another arc of this play of his.

Bowing respectfully, the attendant at the frontmost proffered a scroll which Senzui gleefully unrolled.

"Well, well, well… This is good news… Wonderful even." Senzui smiled wholeheartedly, shining with the beaming countenance of one that didn't have anything to do with the blood war that was currently on its way. "It seems like the 'Bewitching Fist' of the Kushinada Clan has accepted my proposal to join forces alongside me…"

"!"

The attendants hearing this shook slightly in surprise before reigning their shock in completely.

Their young master was quite the ambitious one, wasn't he?

And for there to actually be other Martial Artists interested in the dream he shared?

They could only sweat as they thought about what chaos such a line-up would unleash onto the world in the coming years.

"Now it's time to wrap things up… You all know what must be done, don't you all?" Senzui gave brief orders to his attendants as they dispersed in gusts of wind, just as swift as they had arrived as he held out his palm to catch the falling snowflakes.

"And as for the rest of these folk…" Stifling a yawn as he thought about the remaining Kuremisago clansmen and mercenaries busy fighting, Senzui coldly decided their fates. "Well, their corpses will merely be the Grand Guignol, the bloody yet glorious start of a martial revolution…"

"In a few days, the underworld will be the first to know..."

"-Know the surprise of the fall of our fellow clansmen and guests, and the greatness of the rise of our new organization, Yami..."

Senzui smiled as he watched the snowflakes melt in his hand, seeping through his fingers as they dropped to the ground. "Because soon enough, the land of the rising sun will reign supreme, and with me at its helm at that… After all, there's no better way of promoting peace than showing the results of violence, now is there?"

"However." Senzui halted as he gazed askance at the heavens, his countenance briefly falling somewhat. " -Do forgive me for what I am about to do, Saiga, Shizuha…"

"But it is for the best… As regrettable as it sounds...'

'For not only us... But the future of Japan itself."

-XOXOXOX-

-

-A CERTAIN RUINED KUREMISAGO CLAN MANOR.-

-

-XOXOXOX-

"Filthy panty-sniffers."

As Myoujou suppressed a scowl as he surveyed his surroundings; the decayed remains of bodies, burnt wood, a ruined manor, and fellas whose eyes were bloody red and ready to kill- There was one thing he was sure of...

-And that was that this place reeked of the smell of 'Death'.

And just what was this smell of 'Death' like anyways?

Honestly, it was more than just the smell of mere unmoving corpses... It was a scent that permeated the atmosphere... The people, the vibe, and the mood itself that created that aroma- That same scent that Myoujou's nostrils were currently being besieged by right now.

'Haa- Just what the heck did we get into this time?'

In Myoujou's case, it wasn't as if he held any reservations about this job to begin with, as he was actually somewhat excited to finally go out for once after all of his training at the height of the Russian wintery season in Oymyakon, but this…

'Looks like the winter is catching up to us... I almost didn't realize that..' Myoujou looked around at the little droplets of snow falling.

This was just beyond belief.

No, not the reality of people being incensed to send him to the bowels of Naraka… That was well within the realms of belief, in fact, it happened nearly every day when he used to live within The Inside, but the fact that these guys before him seemed to have foregone logic and intelligence itself, not bothering to listen to their explanation, with only interested in killing him and Shintarou on their mind.

'So Shintarou got hired for this job along with some fodder, the fodder got… Well, 'fodderized', and now it's just me and the old man against these folks…'

'Yeah, and also some guy named Saiga got blamed for killing a few oldies from this clan….' Myoujou thought as he began to mumble to himself like a loony, not caring about the people around him.

'Did I forget anything?'

Thinking back on some of the grim experiences that befell his former team, Myoujou snapped his fingers as a metaphorical light bulb seemed to have appeared on top of his head. 'Oh, yea… Some weirdo showed up dressed like Saiga and vanished after straight-up killing everyone in this place, and now they think that we were with him…'

'Yeah, none of this makes any heckin' sense. As per usual, I smell foul play.' Myoujou shrugged half-heartedly. A nice and soft bed was starting to look more appealing than having to look at the likes of ninety-nine percent of buff men with the occasional but equally deadly woman from the Kuremisago Clan. 'These guys… They're actually hostile because they think we killed their men…?'

'Wow… Uh, nah. It can't be. I'm not the shining example of a high IQ and an unrivaled genius, but even I can catch that there's a lotta bullshit going on behind closed doors.'

"Looks like we got played a bad hand of cards, Shintarou..." Myoujou said. He wanted to keep up his cool quiet guy persona he spent a few years trying to craft, planning on staying silent whilst looking at the best in bad situations like a glass-half-full kind of fashion, but boy, did he find this setup slightly funny. "This is a big misunderstanding that's gonna cost a lot of people their lives…"

-Though unfortunately, it wasn't the 'good' kind of funny.

"Haaaaah… Boy, oh boy." Shintarou sighed. "If the full payment wasn't worth more than a couple million in euros, then I would've never come around here, haha! But hey, when we're done with this right here, I think I feel like taking a nice long bath."

"Same here." Myoujou said.

"Alrighty then." Stretching his robust musculature as he warmed up, Shintarou got into a battle-ready position, lowering his center of gravity as he awaited the furious mob. "Get ready kid, these folks ain't just wanna spar, they're outright aiming to kill."

"Yeah, I can tell. I haven't seen people with hard sticks in their hands so 'happy' to see me since the old days..." An exasperated sigh left Myoujou's mouth, but even though he said such things, truthfully he had no issues since he was looking forward to showing off what he learned on 'live' targets.

Seeing this, Shintarou's lips turned upwards slightly "Well, well, well... Would you just take a look at these guys?"

"They're making the same fact you like to make so much. So calm, yet so brooding, like a losing game of poker, hahaha!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, geezer." Myoujou's body tensed with a surge of excitement and power.

"Let's waste these clowns and get outta here in one piece!

"That's the spirit!… And while we're at it…"

"You won't be going anywhere!" A clansman shouted.

"Die, scum!"

"Make sure they regret messing with the name of the Kuremisago!"

Looking at the faces of the men that reeked of bloodlust before him, Shintarou merely smirked.

" -I should probably get the rest of my pay as well."

And as the enraged crowd pounced at the Disciple-Master pair, they too, moved in retaliation.

-XOXOXOX-

-

-XOXOXOX-

'What is ki, anyway?'

Standing back-to-back with his Master Shintarou as he fought the group of bloodthirsty savages… Ahem, clan members, Myoujou silently pondered on this question as he defended himself from the wave of Kuremisago fighters.

Ki was the circulating life force whose existence and properties were the basis of much of Asian philosophy and medicine.

It was the willpower hidden deep within oneself in which that can be used to many different results, whether mental or physical.

And as a latent phenomenon nestled deep within the 'core' of mankind, Ki was something that most Martial Artists were able to utilize in some manner of fashion within battle and confrontation, allowing users to drastically increase their attack and defense power to inhuman levels with proper training and control.

'Though unfortunately, it's impossible to use Ki to do 'K*mehameha Waves' or 'Sp*rit Bombs' to get rid of your enemies...' Myoujou sighed.

'Alright, Myoujou! Time for a little self-study session.' Dodging a blow aimed at his head, Myoujou swiftly swept his opponent off their feet with his right leg, before delivering a fierce stomp to his attacker's temple.

'From what Shintarou told me a good while ago... There are two types of Ki that exist in this world… 'Sei' Ki, and 'Dou' Ki.' Still deep within his thoughts, Myoujou quickly rolled to the side as he narrowly dodged a sudden spear thrust that tore apart the very wind in the area he previously stood at.

But before that, what does the aforementioned categories of Ki even mean? And what about the martial artists that use them?

'Well, fighters that use 'Dou-Type-Ki' tend to be much more aggressive when they fight, being the type that are always on the offensive, and though they aren't always 'brute-forcing' it, they almost never miss out on an opportunity to go wild when fighting.'

'These types of Martial Artists seem to rely heavily on their instincts and brute strength when fighting, focusing on making their Ki "explode" after channeling it through their opponent to deal major damage.'

'Kinda like this guy.' The spear-wielding clansman closed in on him immediately, letting out a near-unending volley of spear thrusts one after the other.

-Power.

-Speed.

-Skill.

-And finally, Intent.

These spear thrusts were performed with an intensity that contained all of the above and even more, filled to the brim with the sole intent of killing Myoujou behind each thrust, and with each attack that Myoujou evaded, portions of his clothes were being nicked and torn.

"Really? Tearing my clothes? What are you, a bloody pervert?" Myoujou clicked his tongue.

'As expected, it's always a new experience fighting guys like this…' Tilting his head slightly, Myoujou escaped the trajectory line of the spear, stepping into his opponent's guard before starting his counterattack.

'Let me deal with these guys first... Since there's no need to stretch this out any further...'

Myouoju's moves were swift, fast, deceptive, and fined tuned. The very form he performed was dedicated to such maneuvers and attacks that allowed him to fight whilst redirecting the moves of whichever opponents the user may face in order to get pest-like fighters he might face.

It was the principle he held of 'Using your enemies' force and strength to knock them off balance, before dealing with them promptly', that was something he fondly preferred when in a fight.

-[WATER MIRROR; OVERFLOW]-

Shifting slightly to the side, Myoujou deflected the spear from the shaft right down to the base with his forearm while controlling his center of gravity and pulling the attacker past him.

"Hu- Huuh-!?"

Effectively using his attacker's own weight against himself and intentionally causing the attacker to rush past him and crash into the mountain of a man known as Shintarou, Myoujou bore witness as he saw the untimely demise of his foe in the hands of Shintarou, who simply held the poor man's head before delivering a not-so-delicate headbutt that may have caved in his skull if not broken a few of the man's orbital bones.

'Moving on...' Myoujou took his gaze off the twitching felled clansman, choosing to survey his surroundings as he saw more fighters approaching him this time wielding katanas, a series of blades native to Japan.

'On the other hand, a 'Sei-Type-Ki Martial Artist usually hides their intention to fight, like they're going on incognito mode or something, instead 'focusing on sensing the environment around them', then 'responding accordingly' as they quickly react to danger.'

'Once again.' Slipping under the slash of the finely crafted katana, Myoujou quickly slid past a flurry of slashes from several foes, jumping backwards to make distance between himself and his not-so-unexpected opponents. 'Like these guys right here.'

'This means that instead of fighting with pure force and anger, Martial Artists in this group mainly fight mainly with tactics, skills, and wit.' Myoujou clicked his teeth as his chest was nicked by the katana's trajectory, beginning to bleed slightly. 'Tch. Almost didn't see that one coming.'

"How you doing, kid? Still alive?" Shintarou added whilst nonchalantly catching a fist aimed at his face with a single hand. "Don't die on me yet kid, raising disciples ain't easy, y'know?"

-CRACK!-

"Gyaaaaarrrgghh-!"

A sharp crackling sound resounded within the ruined manors as with one hand, Shintarou crushed the fist of his opponent, leaving a mess of torn skin and bones, before silencing the screaming fighter with a heavy kick to the chest, sending the man airborne, flying meters into his group of fellow clansmen.

"Thanks but don't worry about me, old man. Worry about the health of the guy's chest you just caved in."

"Besides, if these guys were able to put me six feet under right here and now, then I'd never be able to fulfill my dreams."

"Haaaaa-"

Myoujou breathed out heavily, turning a wide arc before planting his feet firmly onto the ground with his feet slightly spread apart.

Just how many people were there trying to end his life before him?

-Five?

-Ten?

-Fifteen?

-Twenty?

Either way, they really wanted a piece of him, and Myoujou wasn't about to let them get it.

"You won't get away with this! You messed with the wrong group, now pay for your sins with death-!"

"How cliche. How could he say stuff like that without being embarrassed? Even I would have 'some' shame…"

'These guys should generally be around the same level as I am, though...' Licking the blood that trailed down his face as he evaded a deadly slash from his would-be murderers, Myoujou stared at the surrounding fighters as he started to hop up and down as if he was warming up mid-battle.

"Haiya- What a pain..."

"Man... I want to eat some 'Sakura-niku'/ Cherry Blossom Meat', do you folks have it around here?" Myoujou asked. Whenever he started to get into his element, he would start to lighten up, his mouth loosening up somewhat as he became much more receptive to the idea of trash talk and the likes while in battle for some reason.

"Don't worry about food, boy… You'll have plenty of chances to eat in hell!" Unfortunately for Myoujou, his foes weren't in the mood for entertaining him, and the hints of Shintarou's easy-going nature that was starting to affect him.

"Well, I don't blame you for not knowing it, since you guys seem so stuck up, after all…"

Beginning to freely taunt his enemies, Myoujou slowly yet surely started to feel the heat of battle as a small smile began to grace his face, brightening his youthful countenance somewhat.

"But maybe after I deal with you guys, some 'Bird-Nest's-Soup' would do…"

"Eat this, you brat!"

"Kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, kill, I'll kill you till you're dead-!" A perfectly same man said calmly without a hint of aggression and anger in his voice.

"As opposed to what? Killing me 'till I'm alive?"

"I'm gonna kiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiillllllll you-!"

"Aren't you supposed to be emotionless killers? I mean, for people that invest in Martial Arts, and killing without emotion, you folks are pretty screwed in the head..." Myoujou said, actually somewhat 'concerned' if one could call it that.

"And speaking of investments, instead of 'Martial Arts', why don't you folks invest in a therapist? I can clearly see that you people, more specifically, 'he' needs it."

"We'll do just that…" The clansman chanting 'kill' over and over said...

" -After we invest in your casket before sending you to heeeeeell-!"

"You know what? Whatever." Myoujou didn't know whether he should be insulted that they were going to such lengths to kill him, or feel appreciated that they would actually get a casket to bury him in.

'Those guys in The Inside, would never do something like that for me... If I was slightly less sane, then my heart would sorta go 'doki-doki'...'

''But-!' Myoujou delivered a front kick to the man that Shintarou sent flying in his direction with a simple punch, sending the man right back to Shintarou where he met his demise with the giant of a man snapping his neck effortlessly.

'I'm much saner compared to most, especially these guys.' Myoujou inhaled sharply.

"Alright... Here I go..."

According to Shintarou, who possessed a 'Dou-Type-Ki', Myoujou on the other hand had possessed 'Ki' of the 'Sei' nature, and in due time, would be able to better utilize it to an even greater degree in the future.

But besides its definition, there were are various stages of Ki usage, being:

'Concentration, Invocation, and Release.'

For the past three years Myoujou faced scary situations that required extreme effort from him in order for him to stay alive, and with such experiences came results that would never betray the effort he placed into his training.

Whether the foes were armed or not, or the countless handicaps placed on him while training, the mission and the criteria for victory were still the same.

-To win, and do so while remaining alive.

After all, this wasn't some kind of brave selfless sacrificial hero story, was it? Dying after winning? Leave senseless sacrifices to the heroes of the world. What was the point of vagabonds in this world to strive for becoming the strongest if they don't get to experience the feeling of the strength that comes with it?

From what he could remember from conversations he had with Shintarou, he had learned that the 'Tenrai Shikou-ryu/ Heavenly Four Mirrors Style' was derived from an older style that was birthed from the depths of the 'Inside' and that by creating this style he wanted to use power, skill, flexibility, and speed alongside his ideas to further boost his strength.

And work it did, though there was another extra factor that shined through its creation...

-And that was its ability to fight efficiently, whether when fighting multiple opponents or not, or whether at a disadvantage or not. That factor being the main ability that was carried over from its parent style.

"Die-!"

Evading and redirecting the stream of nonending attacks, Myoujou felt the corners of his lip tug up in elation, getting the hang and flow of the current atmosphere he was currently planted within. And while his brain still went at nearly a million miles per hour, thinking of every possible choice he or his adversaries could make, his body moved on nonetheless.

-[MIZUKAGAMI/ THE WATER MIRROR]-

'To exist with stillness and with calmness but arise with viciousness…'

'With softness, and hardness…'

'Meekness, and boldness…'

"!"

Those near him wasted no time in attacking him before he tried anything suspicious, but as he moved from his spot, it was as if he suddenly vanished into thin air, nowhere to be seen.

Putting strength in his legs, he moved at a speed that their eyes had trouble even seeing, barely catching on the already fading way blurs of his afterimage as he struck out, ruthlessly attacking these areas of interest without holding back whatsoever.

-Two times.

-WHAM!, WHAM!-

-Four times.

-WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!-

-Six times.

-WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!-

-Eight times.

WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!-

-Ten times.

WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!-

-And even more.

WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!-

WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!, WHAM!-

All vulnerable spots he could reach, he attacked rapidly and repeatedly. The neck, the eyes, the groin, and the throat.

It was all fair game. After all, when it came to the game of life and death, there were no rules...

-There were only winners, who survived, and losers, who didn't.

And as he performed these moves whilst weaving through the barrage of attacks aimed at him from his foes around him as per Shintarou's instructions, a silvery mist that was near imperceptible to the human eye had begun to form, and with that Myoujou's technique had reached its climax.

And its results were...

-[𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐈𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐑: 𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐈𝐃 𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐎𝐌 𝐅𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐒]-

"..."

"..."

"..."

-The complete and utter defeat of those that lay before him.

-THUD!-

"Not bad." Shintarou smirked seeing his disciple strike out with a fast and furious flurry of blows. This move was truly but a mere glimpse into the power that Shintarou wanted to create with this new style of his, and seeing that his disciple managed to perform the techniques with such skill made his choice in training him worth it. "Though, it'll take a while before you get on my level, haha!"

"Haa…. Haa…. Hmm? Everyone else is done for?" Myoujou exhaled as he observed the land before him.

'Holy cra-'

'Whoa... It's a total wipeout...' Myoujou thought. Bodies that look battered and broken with all sorts of indentations that shouldn't be seen in humans lay convulsing around him that littered the outside area around Shintarou.

When he looked at those around him, he could see the same situation, but to a lesser degree, as most of those that attacked Shintarou not only didn't seem to be breathing, but their very anatomy seemed... Caved in? Bent out of shape? Ruined?

'I hate to say it, but you guys got off lucky by facing me…' Myoujou thought, casting a downward look at the figures at his feet.

Calming down, Myoujou took a deep look at his hand, or rather… The power within it.

'This… This power…'

To be able to make it this far... It was wonderful... Nearly intoxicating to Myoujou, that is.

'I... I can do a hell of a lot with this, haha…' Myoujou's face threatened to split into a wide grin he didn't even know he could pull.

'With this power, I can even become the Prime Minister of Japan and then from there change the world, and I can even defeat that man, The Ogre with this strength and his own genes at that too…'

"I think I have it down pack now… I really mastered this technique, haven't I?" Myoujou spoke as he grinned at Shintarou.

"Ding dong, yer' dumb and wrong~" Shintarou hummed in a sing-song tune, gaining a questioning glance from Myoujou.

"Huh? In that case, what's my score?" Myoujou asked.

"Five out of Ten." Shintarou said.

"?"

"Five? Out of... Ten? Eh? How so, I thought I took care of those guys real good…" Myoujou murmured as they started to head out of the ruined villa as they conversed.

"Many reasons kiddo, but for now, I'll only focus on the main ones." Shintarou sighed, crouching down to check if the felled clansmen had any valuables on their person.

"First of all, it's the wasteful movements you made. You took many movements leading to wasted actions..." Shintarou said, beginning his 'post-game' lecture, surprising Myoujou on things he hadn't even really realized. "Since your mind's running in overdrive before your body can move, it's most likely to cause a delay of sorts between your mind and body."

"And thirdly," Shintarou pointed at the cuts and scrapes on Myoujou's person. "You took too much damage, going against fodder like them."

"Fodder? Aren't they around my level? How are those guys..." Myoujou trailed off.

"That's why, it's such an unreliable and disgusting performance that I have to give you a lower grade y'know~" Shintarou waved his finger, poking fun at his disciple Myoujou.

"Heh. If you say so, Old man. But the only thing disgusting is that shitty accent of yours-"

-BONK!-

"Ouch" Myoujou yelped as he felt Shintarou's fist nearly made an indent on the top of his skull. "What was that for…?"

"Say what my dear disciple~?" Shintarou affectionately called out to his disciple as he cleaned his ears with his pink finger.

"Stop that, old man." Myoujou gagged seeing Shintarou use that tone. "The only ones I can accept doing that, are... What did you call it? The 'Esteemed Maidens With Extremely Blessed Bossoms'? Yeah, that."

"Hahaha-! Damn perverted kid! That's what you're thinking of?"

"Huh? You were the one that said it first though?"

In his mind, that tone was reserved for the 'Maidens of the Blessed Bossoms', a mythical sect of bountiful beauties that had admirers of all genders across the earth, and when he first left The Inside he ran into many people that belonged to that sect.

If he could remember correctly he had a run-in with said maiden in question while on a mission in Dubai protecting a politician from a certain mercenary from Congo.

-Though she was a hag and was 'Older than dirt' as Myoujou would later remark...

-XOXOXOX-

-

-A FEW MONTHS AGO-

-

-XOXOXOX-

Their meeting was something like a scene from a cheesy comedy movie...

-He was buying donuts...

-She was doing donuts... In a sports car... On the roads of Dubai... With Eurobeat music playing from her stereo radio... Whilst wearing a kimono that did not leave anything to the imagination

-And she nearly knocked his ass out.

But not due to her beauty or via a fight... But with her expensive sportscar. Which she ran him over with.

Although he was fond of Isekai stories such as In*yasha, and Al*ce in W*nderland, he had no desire of dying to find out whether or not other worlds truly existed.

And she nearly Isekai'd him, and though it didn't harm him much, using the utter muscle power of his physique and bloodline, his Martial Arts, and sheer willpower, to disperse most of the brunt force of the car crashing into him as he exited the donut shop, before maneuvering and rolling himself over the hood and off the car, gaining nothing but a few bruises, and while he wasn't on an 'adventure', he still thought of the experience to be rather 'bizarre'.

She had glared at him whilst releasing Ki when he called her a hag in retaliation, but could you really blame him? He had gained an ability that let him gauge an opponent's strength and weakness at a basic level that could even allow him to estimate a person's age somewhat accurately.

Scratch that, it wasn't an ability, it was just how good his eyes were.

But nevertheless, Myoujou carried on mourning for his destroyed donuts whilst ignoring the young-looking hag.

But looking at the bright side, at least the lady apologized... Somewhat... While giving him rather an uncomfortable glare that seemed to peer into his soul, leaving him with a few words before stepping on the gas, and speeding off into the distance once more but with even more speed this time.

"You seem familiar, boy."

'"I seem familiar you say? You knock my ass over and say that? What's with this young-looking old hag? Are you trying to flirt with a minor? Where's the damned police you need them..." Myoujou wondered as he continued to hold the utterly mashed-up donuts close to his chest.

Relaying the story to a Shintarou that couldn't stop laughing he later realized that the woman was a Martial Artist named Kushinada Mikumo, 'The Bewitching Fist' that currently outclassed him by an immense amount, reaching well past the realms of a Master.

'Of course she is stronger than me, why am I not surprised...' Myoujou thought. He knew that someone with Ki that potent couldn't be a pushover.

It was then that he learned...

-That some Martial Artists also had a life of their own outside of endless training.

"Road Racing, huh? Never would've thought... Especially with that damned Kimono..." Although due to his training, especially in meditation, he wouldn't be seen dead blushing like a bloody idiot, he did have to admit that she painted a pretty nice-looking picture, in fact, it might even have awakened a certain type of preference inside of him.

Too bad she was old as dirt; 'Possibly old enough to witness Oda Nobunaga's burning down temples', Myoujou would think.

To say it was surprising, was an understatement, but what had really hooked him wasn't her appearance.

-Mostly.

What truly caught his attention was his own instincts practically screaming through every pore of his skin, telling him that this woman before him was strong, and that he might be in danger in a fight.

And he didn't like it.

And to deal with that feeling, he decided to train even more.

-XOXOXOX-

-XOXOXOX-

"Yeah..." Myoujou said, pulling his head out of the clouds. "As I said, unlike when a pretty lady does it, that accent of yours is horrible when an old geezer like you does it-"

-BONK!-

"Gyaaaack-!" Myoujou yelped in pain as a firm fist landed atop his head.

"But hey kiddo here's the good part, yer' getting better, so don'tcha cry too much now."

'And here the accent comes again.' Myoujou this time kept his thoughts in his head, remembering his Mother's advice of 'If you have nothing nice to say, then don't say it', whenever she would find something unscrupulous that really ticked her off, but held off on swearing like a sailor because young Myoujou was around.

-She did swear like a sailor, Myoujou would later find out, but it was to the point where even a sailor would blush.

If it was one thing he picked up due to living with Shintarou that he tried his damnedest to cover up, it was a slowly budding accent of his own that caused him his very own personal despair.

And if it was one thing Shintarou picked up… Or rather, understood, due to living with Myoujou, was that the boy overanalyzed nearly every single detail for months on end.

-One guy moves slightly to the right? Better make five million contingency plans for if he moves to the left the next time.

It was honestly funny yet concerning for him to see.

-The rain is falling? Better count the individual chances of being blindsided by hidden rain assassins taking advantage of this moment and keep warm and try not to catch a cold.

He understood that it was because of the youth's years of living in a land ruled by chaos and violence, but...

-What was it, a childlike imagination, or just pure paranoia?

The kid would even start monologuing in his head for a long time if no one including those two thieving twins back in The Inside weren't there to stop him.

'A laid-back guy like me, having to teach this worrywart of a brat, huh… What a life.'

"When I get back…. I wanna eat… I'm feeling some Sakura-Niku..." Myoujou yawned as they prepared to head down the Kuremisago Mountain.

'Ahhh, some 'Sakura-Niku/ Raw Horse Meat' huh, the old classic…' Shintarou nodded. 'Wait, huh?'

Once again the master was baffled at his student.

"You again with your shitty taste in food" Shintarou bluntly said

"Hey!" Myoujou replied, offended at his own Master slighting him. "It's an acquired taste."

"-Yeah, an acquired taste of shitty food." Shintarou retorted without missing a beat.

"Yeah, yeah, old man. You've made your point."

"What's this? Not gonna answer?"

"Hn."

Hearts of snakes, brains of pigs, larvae, turtles, spiders, scorpions, frogs, centipedes, grasshoppers, and his often favorite, raw cuts meat, especially the liver, Myoujou had a firm bond with food.

-But what he really couldn't understand was why the people around him didn't like to eat the same things he liked to eat, and often found their reaction of gagging to be somewhat over-exaggerated.

He didn't eat like this when he lived back with his mother as he was sure that she'd throw a fit, but he couldn't help but feel grateful to God that he had the chance to partake in such cuisine

In fact, the only one to seemingly understand his palette was that angry-looking seaweed-haired boy he would normally see in The Inside sometimes.

Just like that seaweed boy with one of the meanest glares he'd ever seen, he simply had a broad palette, so why couldn't they understand that?

"Anyway kid, let's leave this hellhole. But before that..." Shintarou hummed. "Let's ransack whatever building we come across on the way down. The Kuremisago got a lot of history, so they should have some valuables as well..."

"Thievery again, huh." At this point, he was used to seeing Shintarou doing some drastic things in order to recoup on a potential loss, so without any complaints, Myoujou nodded whilst walking.

'What's the worst that could happen? Getting even further dragged into a family feud? Having to fight someone way out of my league? Please. That's already happened.'

"I'm in." Myoujou said. He was confident that he'd leave this place alive anyway.

Shintarou, declaring this mission a bust, made his way alongside Myoujou down the Kuremisago Mountain to escape all this drama that they weren't being paid anymore for, but unbeknownst to them…

That their attempts to avoid any further issues at hand by doing the most sensible thing to do and leave, would not only serve to draw them in, but also involve them in the problem even more than they had already expected...

-And it would also cause them to make direct, 'up-close-and-personal' contact with the very culprit of this suspicious situation.

But as some would say...

-Blind is Fortune, and Lady Luck, yet blind, too, are those that seek refuge in their light.

A lesson, that Myoujou would surely learn, in due time.

-XOXOXOX-

-

<13th Fight: Quo Vadis? Persona Non-Grata.> END

<Alternate Title: 13th Fight: Where Are You Going? You Are Not Welcome.> END

-

-XOXOXOX-

13th Chapter Out!

As Always, Thanks For The Support~

Constructive Criticism And Feedback Is Always Welcomed.

You Know, Alot Of Clans In Kengan, HSDK, And Baki Have Names That Start With The Letter K. Funny, Huh?

Due To Unforeseen Personal Reasons, The Release Date Will Be Fixed At A Monthly to Bi-Monthly Release.

With That Being Said, I Apologize For The Super-Duper Late Chapter.

Foods Mentioned:

Sakura-Niku/ Cherry Blossom Meat: Raw Horse Meat.

A delicacy in certain places like Japan, France, and Italy. Depending on how it's cooked, it could have a tougher beef-like the taste

Bird's Nest Soup: Soup made from the nest of a bird that lives like bats, and their nests are made from their dry saliva, known to be youth-preserving effects.

Has a rubbery taste and is incredibly expensive as a pack of birds nest needed to prepare the soup can cost around $3000- $5000

Stay Tuned~

-XOXOXOX-