Chapter 226: Out of Moves!
Inside the sprawling luxury hotel, guests felt the floor shudder beneath their
feet.
"Eh—?!" "An earthquake?!" "What was that—?"
Fortunately, the tremors ceased as quickly as they had begun. Most guests
dismissed it as a minor geological hiccup, and no panic ensued. However, for the
safety of the residents, the staff began floor-by-Base patrols to check for
damage or any guests in need of assistance.
Amidst the patrolling staff, a man in a black hoodie carrying a tactical
backpack walked past. A cap and mask completely obscured his features. He
stepped into the elevator, pressing the button for the top floor.
A voice crackled in his earpiece: "Everything is in position. This is a rare
opportunity. Your primary objective is to secure Hina Hongo. Your personal
revenge comes second."
The hooded man's voice was a low, gravelly rasp. "Save the lecture. I've planned
this for twenty-four years. I'm going to make that man regret every breath he's
taken!"
"Without IDEAL backing you, you'd probably be planning for another twenty-four,"
the voice on the other end replied with cold disdain. "We don't know why Hina
Hongo is at this hotel, but we aren't questioning our luck. Once you send the
signal, our units will lock down the entire building. You get your revenge, we
take the girl. Simple trade. Good luck."
Suddenly, the tone in the earpiece shifted. "Wait... hold on. Is there another
organization inside the building?"
Inside the Presidential Suite.
"—A Kindergarten Principal?"
Hearing Yujiro Hanma's mockery, Sikorsky's face darkened. He wanted to lash out,
to roar in defiance, but he couldn't stop the cold sweat from pricking his brow.
The physiological terror radiating from the man on the sofa was a physical
weight he couldn't shake.
"Heh... whatever," Sikorsky muttered, sitting on a nearby chair. He looked at
the Ogre. "Honestly, I never expected you to be such a doting father."
Yujiro didn't answer. He took a sip of high-grade brandy, swilling it around his
mouth to savor the notes before swallowing. A thin trail of steam escaped his
lips.
"To think you'd have me kidnap your son's girlfriend just to lure him out..."
Sikorsky smirked again. "It's a bit of a letdown. A father worrying about his
child, and a son who isn't even worth the trouble. Is this really going to give
me the 'defeat' I'm looking for?"
"..."
The silence in the room became suffocating, pressing against Sikorsky's chest.
Gulp!
The sound of someone swallowing saliva broke the tension. Sikorsky turned to see
Marco staring intensely at a bowl of hard candies on the coffee table.
"Those are cheap sweets," Yujiro noted casually. "They pair well with the
brandy."
The Ogre reached out and plucked three candies from the bowl. With a sudden,
violent flick of his fingers, he launched them like high-velocity bullets.
Zip-zip!
Marco's focus sharpened to a razor's edge. He stumbled back a half-step but
managed to snatch one of the candies out of the air. The impact was so heavy it
made his arm throb with a dull ache. The other two candies missed him, slamming
into the far wall and disintegrating into fine powder upon impact.
"Thank you, Uncle!"
Marco looked at the girls. Seeing them all shake their heads or wave him off, he
happily popped the candy into his mouth.
Sikorsky stared at the boy in stunned silence. He couldn't wrap his head around
the level of reflexes—or the casual lethality of the "gift."
Yujiro had no intention of explaining himself. He leaned back against the sofa
and closed his eyes to rest.
While the Presidential Suite was a pocket of eerie calm, the Soul Combat Hub was
a storm of activity.
The Kure Clan, the Metropolitan Police, Baki Hanma, and Nozomi Tenma were all
gathered in the courtyard. Everyone had a reason to be anxious. The missing
chemical weapons, Kozue's safety, and Erio Kure's skyrocketing blood
pressure—the last one being a medical emergency in itself.
At Reiichi Kure's request, Ren Shiroki stepped forward to comfort the
Patriarch—the ultimate "Great-Granddaughter-con."
"If you want to find people, there are a dozen ways to do it. Leave it to me,"
Ren said, pulling out his phone to show Erio. "The Shinshinkai has over a
million disciples spread across Tokyo and the rest of the country. I'm close
with their Acting Head; one word and we'll have a million pairs of eyes on the
street."
Ren hit the dial button, only to get a busy signal.
"—Eh?"
He turned to see Baki Hanma holding his own phone. "I just got off the line with
Katsumi Orochi," Baki said. "He's already mobilized the Shinshinkai to hunt for
the truck."
"..."
Ren didn't mind being beaten to the punch on the first resource. He turned back
to Erio with absolute confidence. "Don't worry. I also have deep connections
with the Metropolitan Police."
Beside Ichika Iori, the high-ranking official Mitsuo Sonoda spoke up in a deep,
serious voice. "The MPD is already in motion. We have limited leads, but we are
currently convening an emergency summit with international police
representatives to track the death row convicts. We'll find them."
Another move blocked. Erio Kure started to vibrate with repressed fury.
Ren began rubbing the old man's temples. "Okay, okay... how about the
Hanayama-gumi? The Yakuza network is unparalleled in the dark corners of the
city. I'll call Hanayama-kun right now."
Nozomi Tenma interrupted. "Actually... I already contacted the Hanayama-gumi's
captain, Kizaki-san. They promised to alert us the moment their informants spot
anything."
Ren Shiroki: "..."
He blinked, looking at Fusui Kure. "What about the Kure Clan—"
Wait, the Patriarch is literally standing right here, glaring at me. They
obviously don't need me to 'contact' them.
Ren stood frozen in the center of the courtyard, a profound sense of emptiness
washing over him.
What the hell? They used up all my moves!
Seeing Ren and Erio both standing there in a daze, Reiichi pulled Fusui aside.
"Is your boyfriend okay? He looks like he just took a mental counter-hit."
"Mm..." Fusui crossed her arms, pondering for a moment. Suddenly, her eyes lit
up. "Oh!"
The sound drew Ren's desperate gaze. He looked at Fusui like a drowning man
looks at a life raft.
"I know a client who orders 'weapon raw materials' from us," Fusui said, her
mind racing. "He's the head of a school of Ancient Battlefield Jujutsu. His
personal network is incredibly vast and bypasses all standard channels. Let me
see if he can help."
Fusui pulled out her phone and dialed a number. "Motobe-sensei? Do you have a
moment? I have a favor to ask—"
The man she was contacting was the founder of the Motobe-ryu Jujutsu school—the
"Super-Practical Martial Arts Master," Motobe Izou.
Since his battle with Speck, Motobe had become a regular client of the Kure
Clan, ordering specialized materials and equipment at a discounted rate. Their
partnership was flourishing.
"A kidnapping?" Motobe's voice sounded surprised over the line. "Well, as a
martial artist, it is my duty to assist in such matters. However, I'm currently
occupied tracking Yanagi Ryuko's location—"
"But no matter. I have a 'Disciple' visiting me today. I'll send him and his
companions to assist you. They'll get results faster than the police or the
Yakuza, I guarantee it. You can rest easy."
Ren leaned in, whispering curiously, "A disciple and his friends? Who?"
"They are 'Soldiers' specializing in tracking and elimination," Motobe
explained. "Top-tier experts. Just send me the data you have. They're on
vacation in Tokyo right now and were just complaining about being bored. They've
been looking for someone to trade blows with."
Motobe Izou hung up with Fusui and immediately dialed his own dojo's landline.
After a few rings, someone picked up.
Motobe chuckled. "I had a feeling you'd be staying over at the dojo tonight."
The voice on the other end sounded young and energetic.
"I've been here a thousand times, Sensei, but every time I walk through those
doors, I feel like a kid in a candy store. The weapons here are beautiful.
You've stripped away all the useless aesthetics until only the 'essence'
remains."
Motobe let out a soft sigh of pride. "Indeed. A dojo should make the blood pump.
It is a place of discipline and order—unlike the outside world."
The youth caught the underlying meaning and bared his teeth in a grin. "Stop the
riddles, Sensei. What do you need me to do?"
Motobe quickly briefed him on the situation.
The youth sounded intrigued. "The Kure Clan? I ran into some of them on a
battlefield once. Formidable people. How did they get tangled up in a
kidnapping?"
"It's a rare favor to earn from them," Motobe said, lighting a cigarette. "Maybe
I can get a better discount on my next order of high-tensile wire. Anyway... I'm
counting on you..."
"—Gaia."
(End of Chapter)
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