Chapter 213: The Apex of Striking!
"Wait..."
Dorian looked at Gaolang standing before him, his eyes darting frantically
toward the courtyard where Doppo Orochi was settling back into his seat.
"I said wait a damn minute!"
His throat, his groin, his solar plexus—he had just taken three devastating,
consecutive impacts to his vitals. The agony was a screaming roar in his nervous
system, yet Dorian ignored it entirely.
"Doppo Orochi! We aren't finished!"
"Come back here—!" Dorian roared, his voice thick with rage. "Come back and
finish this fight with me!"
Doppo turned his head, resting his hands on his hips as he looked at the
convict. He arched an eyebrow with a look of pure apathy. "No, I don't think so.
It's not fun anymore."
"Fun?" Dorian's brow furrowed. "To the Great Doppo Orochi, a battle with me is
merely... entertainment?"
Doppo waved a dismissive hand. "No, no. Having the chance to experience a
Kaioh's Kenpo is a blessing. But you? You don't intend to use Kenpo anymore.
You've replaced your 'Martial Art' with cheap tricks. That makes you 'not fun'
to fight."
With that, Doppo sat back down, ignoring Dorian's expression. He looked at his
own right hand—the one that had just traded a high-five with Gaolang— and sighed
in admiration. "Haha! High-fiving a four-belt world champion... what a rare
treat. I almost don't want to wash this hand!"
Katsumi Orochi wore a look of pure disgust.
Ren Shiroki scooted his chair a few inches away, dragging Fusui Kure with him to
maintain a safe distance from the eccentric founder.
Doppo: "..."
Realizing his joke might have crossed a line and damaged his image as the
Shinshinkai's founder, Doppo cleared his throat and changed the subject.
"Ren-kun, I thought you were up next. Are you still brooding over that 'Killing
Intent' stuff?"
Ren smiled. "No. I've found my answer. That's why I let Gaolang-san go first."
Doppo blinked. "Oh? Explain."
"I'm going to beat Dorian," Ren said, slapping his thigh as he looked at the
group. "But my goal is different from yours or Gaolang's. I want to defeat the
Dorian that exists right now."
The conversation inside the Hub reached Dorian's ears, leaving him baffled.
But strangely, veins began to throb on Dorian's forehead. A surge of irrational,
burning fury erupted in his chest—a feeling even he couldn't quite name. This
anger spread like wildfire, finally locking its sights on Gaolang.
"Mr. Champion... I believe this is our second meeting. Forgive my rudeness for
not recognizing you sooner."
Dorian let out a long, hollow sigh, and then—Zip!
He lunged forward with a technical Drive Rush, launching a high-level lead
snap-kick. He used his arms to counterbalance his weight, maximizing the speed
and torque of the strike. It was a move of absolute precision.
Yet, this lightning-fast kick was still a fraction slower than Gaolang's fists.
Gaolang swatted his right fist downward, connecting with Dorian's knee to
deflect the trajectory of the left leg. Seizing the opening created by Dorian's
pivoted body, Gaolang fired a high-speed right jab.
Bang! Bang!
Two heavy blows slammed into Dorian's face. Blood sprayed into the night air,
painting the asphalt crimson. The agony radiated across his skull, and Dorian's
pupils momentarily lost focus.
What heavy hands!
In a moment of desperation, Dorian tried to push forward with his palm-root,
attempting a Horse-Stance Shield Strike (Ma-bu-jia-da) to create distance.
But the moment he committed, Gaolang shifted his footwork laterally. He glided
to Dorian's flank, exiting the palm-strike's effective range and forcing Dorian
to respond with a desperate left hook.
Tap!
Gaolang's lead foot touched down. He slipped his head inside the hook and
unleashed a vicious uppercut—a Liver Blow that buried itself deep into Dorian's
abdomen.
THUD!
The muffled sound of impact was followed by Dorian vomiting a spray of blood.
His body doubled over instinctively. The moment his head dropped, Gaolang's knee
was already there.
CRACK!
The knee smashed into Dorian's face.
Dorian's head snapped back, a crescent moon of blood arching through the air
before he hit the ground.
"...Magnificent."
Retsu Kaioh watched the battle with focused intensity, gesturing to the group as
he provided a running commentary.
"Dorian intended to use the 'Horse-Stance Shield Strike'—a versatile Kenpo
technique designed to break an opponent's rhythm and reset the neutral game."
"However, Gaolang-dono is a master of the ring. He used his superior footwork to
move to Dorian's 'dead angle,' neutralizing the defensive utility of the strike
and forcing Dorian into a sub-optimal left hook."
"The result? Dorian was left wide open for Gaolang's heavy counters."
Retsu's voice was heavy with respect. "To fuse Boxing and Muay Thai into such a
seamless, lethal striking system... he has truly earned his title. Incredible!"
Hearing the praise from the Fist Master, Rama XIII couldn't help but chuckle.
"In the world of Heavyweight Boxing, Gaolang—at 91kg—is considered a small man.
To compensate, he developed a style that suits his unique biology. He maintains
his Muay Thai foundations while integrating the high-speed hand-skills of
professional boxing."
"The goal he is charging toward is what we call... The Apex of Striking!"
Rama looked at Retsu and smiled. "To be praised so highly by the 'Fist Master'
is a great honor. Gaolang would be pleased—though his face would never show it."
Retsu nodded, closing his eyes. "Refined technique requires no empty praise. Its
existence is the ultimate proof of its worth."
As they spoke, the battle between Gaolang and Dorian reached a fever pitch.
Under a relentless, systematic barrage of strikes, Dorian was being dismantled.
He retreated step by step, desperately parrying and blocking, but it was clear
to everyone that his defense was minutes away from total collapse.
Gaolang's strategy was simple: lock down the opponent's options and drag them
into a pure striking exchange where his speed reigned supreme.
POW!
Dorian's face took another heavy hit. He tried to leap back to create space, but
Gaolang's pressure was suffocating. He was forced to throw a desperate right
straight.
Zip!
Gaolang slipped the straight and delivered a booming body shot to the solar
plexus. The sound of the impact was like a cannon blast.
Dorian was launched off his feet. He slammed into the outer wall of the Hub, a
spiderweb of cracks erupting in the masonry behind him.
Thud!
Dorian slumped against the wall, his head hanging low, appearing to have lost
consciousness. Gaolang prepared to step forward and confirm the KO, but he
suddenly noticed something. He halted his advance, turned his back on the
convict, and began walking back toward the courtyard.
Dorian, who had been faking the coma, froze.
He was still clutching a handful of sand in his palm, waiting for Gaolang to get
close so he could blow it into the champion's eyes and flip the momentum of the
fight.
But Gaolang, just like Doppo before him, had simply stopped. He didn't even care
to follow up.
"—Hey!"
Dorian couldn't take it. He bolted upright, slamming the sand into the ground in
frustration and glaring at Gaolang's back.
"We aren't done! Come back and fight!"
Gaolang spared him a brief, side-eyed glance, his "dead-fish eyes" looking
particularly weary. "I am satisfied."
"...Satisfied?"
Dorian's eyes widened. He looked back and forth between Gaolang and Doppo, his
mind failing to process the situation.
Gaolang replied casually, "My goal was to defend my King's honor and to trade my
life against a true powerhouse. As far as I'm concerned, I've seen enough."
Dorian looked confused. "Are you saying I'm not a powerhouse?"
"No." Gaolang shook his head. "I'm saying that this you—the you that relies on
petty, cowardly tricks—no longer intends to trade your life against mine. You
cannot satisfy my soul."
With that, Gaolang continued his walk away.
Seeing this, Dorian snapped. He slammed his foot into the asphalt, shattering a
massive section of the pavement. He let out a primal, agonizing scream: "KEEP
FIGHTING ME!!"
Gaolang didn't respond. Dorian went into a full emotional meltdown, punching and
kicking the surrounding walls and floor to vent his manic rage.
BOOM! CRUNCH! SMASH!
Shards of stone and concrete sprayed everywhere. The sheer force of his limbs
was terrifying—the raw power of the man who had bored through a mountain in a
single night was still very much alive.
"COME HERE!"
Dorian pulverized a section of the brick wall with a kick, staring at the
masters in the yard, tears of frustration welling in his eyes.
"Someone... anyone! Fight me until the very end! Finish it!"
He shrieked at the top of his lungs. "Is that too much to ask?! Is it really
that difficult?!"
"It's not difficult."
Gaolang sat back down beside Rama XIII and looked at Dorian. "From the very
beginning, your wish could have been granted. You're the one who's been avoiding
the fight."
"Looking at everyone here, there is only one man who wants to fight the entirety
of you. Someone who is genuinely interested in the man named 'Dorian'."
"But you rejected him. You chose to challenge Doppo and Retsu instead."
"You were afraid of him, weren't you?"
Gaolang tilted his head toward the side. Ren Shiroki stood up and offered a
relaxed shrug.
"Old man Dorian—"
Ren looked up, gesturing with his hand as he stepped onto the street. "Now... do
you have any more excuses not to fight me?"
(End of Chapter)
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