CHAPTER 90: CHAPTER 11

Invincible.

That single word, Invincible, was the bedrock of Suzune’s entire worldview regarding Kageyama Seijirou.

No matter the scale of the challenge, no matter the trouble, no matter the brutal circumstances, Seijirou possessed an innate ability to find a solution, to dominate, to win.

In Suzune’s mind, he wasn’t merely strong; he was the strongest. A perfect, unshakable pillar of their entire existence.

But now, right before her very eyes, something she believed to be utterly impossible was unfolding.

Something so deeply improbable she would never have conceived of it in her darkest dreams.

Seijirou was down. He was on the ground, blood already seeping from a cut near his eye, his body pinned.

Ayano was kneeling beside him, his muscular arm driving Seijirou’s face deeper into the rough asphalt with a cruel, satisfied smile.

"Is this all you amount to?" Ayano sneered, pressing down harder. "And Haruto lost to you? How ridiculously lame. He should just have his position in the Eight Limbs revoked and given to someone worthy."

In that moment of total dominance, Seijirou moved with the desperate, cold efficiency of a trapped animal.

He grabbed Ayano’s pinning arm, twisted his body, and used a sudden, brutal application of Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu leverage to lock the limb.

Ayano’s eyes widened in shock as he felt the joint yield.

"Fuck! Let go of me!" He roared, trying frantically to pry Seijirou away, but it was too late.

With a resounding, wet crack, Ayano’s arm twisted at the shoulder as a scream of raw, agonizing pain tore from his throat.

"AAHH! FUCK!"

Seijirou used the momentary lapse in control, kicking Ayano hard in the chest to maintain distance, then scrambled back to his feet.

He paused, wiping blood from his chin.

His eyes, burning with fierce concentration, flickered back to Suzune and the others who looked like they were ready to jumped into the fight any moment.

But Seijirou’s gaze was stern, stopping them, conveying a single, absolute message: You must not interfere, no matter what.

Suzune hesitated, the instinct to rush forward battling her learned obedience.

She eventually nodded, her hands trembling.

Rei and Touka, the two most faint hearted girls in the group remained frozen, terrified by the sheer ferocity of the exchange.

Seijirou returned his focus to Ayano. He knew the terrifying truth from their brief, explosive exchange, that this man was operating on a whole different level compared to anyone he had ever fought.

If this was a game, then Seijirou, as the final boss, should already be in his final phase, with his health bar flashing orange.

But now, even in his most strongest state, he still couldn’t force Ayano to resort to his ultimate power: the Karyoku.

Ayano was cursing, clutching his dislocated shoulder.

"Fuck! This is going to take a while to heal," he growled, sweat dripping from his face as he stared at the unnatural angle of his limb.

He then looked at Seijirou, and his red eyes held a genuine respect they hadn’t possessed moments before.

He nodded grudgingly. "Aside from Matsuda Sosuke, you are the first person to actually break a bone in my body in a real fight."

Seijirou spat a mouthful of blood onto the ground.

"I won’t just break your arm," he promised, his voice low and ragged. "I will break all four of your limbs, and make sure to dislocate your jaw too."

"Hahahaha!" Ayano laughed, letting out a strained, vicious sound. "We’ll see, we’ll see.

Then, with a roar of pure agony, he gritted his teeth and used his good arm to violently snap his dislocated shoulder back into its socket.

The audible thud made several of the girls flinch.

Ayano clenched his now-fixed arm, throwing a few quick punches to test the joint, then nodded, a victorious grimace on his face.

Then, he grinned, and before Seijirou could even adjust his stance, Ayano was already in front of him.

A blindingly fast punch landed squarely on Seijirou’s face, sending him stumbling back several steps.

But Ayano didn’t stop.

"Hahaha! Come on! Come on! Fight back! Hahaha!" Laughing maniacally like a beast finally unleashed, he initiated a relentless barrage of uniformed punches and kicks, moving with brutal grace.

Seijirou was barely able to block the onslaught. This guy... Kyokushin Karate!?

Kyokushin Karate, unlike the regular, points-based tournament styles, is a full-contact martial art dedicated entirely to striking.

It is far more ruthless and brutally practical than the competitive forms.

Seijirou had also mastered Kyokushin in his prior knowledge, but from the speed and power of the strikes he was absorbing, Ayano’s physical mastery surpassed his own.

"Die!" Ayano screamed, delivering a vicious side kick aimed directly at Seijirou’s temple.

Seijirou managed to block the attack with his forearm, but the sheer, overwhelming force of the kick transmitted through his guard.

It momentarily paralyzed his movements, and his legs suddenly went weak. He stumbled backward, his vision blurring as the world seemed to spin violently around him.

Ayano watched Seijirou struggle, his body shivering, barely able to remain standing.

He lowered his guard slightly, his tone shifting to one of grudging respect.

"You are good, Kageyama. Seriously, if you were in Saint Shinomiya, that guy Haruto probably wouldn’t even be part of the Eight Limbs. You’re wasted on Shunji."

He took a step forward, standing intimately close to the reeling Seijirou before he raised one leg, not for an attack, but as a final gesture. "You should rest for now. You are a worthy opponent. If you can somehow awaken Karyoku, let us fight again properly."

However, as Ayano lowered his leg, he raised an eyebrow sharply when the strike was suddenly blocked.

It wasn’t blocked by Seijirou, but by a thin, polished length of bamboo—a shinai.

Rindou, her face usually calm face, was now twisted with fury as she stood between them, using her shinai to block the attack.

Before Ayano could process the intervention, Emi, moving with unexpected, silent ferocity, was on him.

Her hand flashed, holding a wicked-looking pocket knife, with her usually emotionless eyes were now burning with an intense, desperate fury.

Ayano dodged the slash with ease, his combat instincts fully engaged. But he was actually surprised, even these girls know how to fight.

It seems like Kageyama doesn’t just keep girls for him to bed

He grabbed Emi’s wrist tightly, squeezing until she groaned in pain and the knife clattered to the ground.

He then punctuated his defense with a quick, snapping punch to her chest, sending her flying back with a strangled gasp.

Just then, Yukina moved, her hands were now encased in illegal metal knuckle dusters.

She attacked with a ferocious, unrestrained series of strikes, her usually cheerful face cold and hardened.

Ayano moved like smoke, dodging her wild swings before finding a precise opening and delivering a devastating kick to her stomach, doubling her over instantly.

"Hm?" Ayano frowned as he was surrounded.

Suzune, Haruka, and Rindou, armed with desperate courage and whatever training they possessed, attacked him simultaneously, attempting to surround and overwhelm him.

But Ayano was too fast. He grinned, like a predator enjoying its meal, and moved with a blinding velocity that outstripped their coordinated attack.

He unleashed a short, brutal combination of strikes that targeted their vital points.

One hit Suzune’s temple, one clipped Haruka’s jaw, and one slammed into Rindou’s exposed ribs.

Now, all the girls, save for the terrified Rei and Touka who remained frozen several steps back, had fallen to the ground, groaning and struggling to rise.

Ayano turned his attention back to Seijirou, surveying the fallen women with condescending amusement. "These are your girls? Huh. From what I know, you’re a scumbag, and yet you actually have a lot of loyal girls willing to get broken for you. I’m jealous."

He walked toward Seijirou. "Time to finish this, Kageyama."

Ayano raised his leg for a definitive, bone-shattering final kick, but froze.

His eyes widened slightly in shock seeing Seijirou’s face, his eyes white, as if he had fallen unconscious, and his face twisted in madness.

And before he can react, Seijirou lunged forward like a wounded beast, driving a razor-sharp elbow into his chest.

Ayano instantly coughed, the sound wet and sickening.

He staggered backward, clutching his ribs, feeling the undeniable snap of at least one bone and all the air violently emptied from his lungs.

But Seijirou did not hesitate.

At this moment, his control was gone, he was now just driven by pure, protective rage.

He grabbed Ayano’s arm, pulled the boy toward him, and unleashed a relentless, short-range flurry of fists and elbows, targeting the compromised chest repeatedly.

Ayano felt his vision darken as his body was instantly deprived of oxygen.

The focused, repeated trauma on his ribs was overwhelming.

Seijirou continued his unrelenting assault, his face contorted in a mask of pure fury, as if he was now operating on the savage instinct to protect his pack.

But then, Ayano, his face contorted in pain and fear, grabbed Seijirou’s hands, attempting to stop the assault.

In that instant, a faint, ephemeral golden phantom figure of a man wearing an Onmyouji uniform shimmered behind Ayano for a fleeting moment before disappearing.

Then, a palpable, golden aura began to leak out of Ayano’s body—the unmistakable manifestation of harnessed Karyoku.

With a surge of supernatural strength, Ayano overpowered Seijirou’s grip, grabbed his face, and slammed him down onto the asphalt.

Ayano’s pain-crazed face was replaced by a look of savage, triumphant insanity.

He mounted Seijirou and sent an endless, savage barrage of punches directly into his face and chest, laughing loudly with raw, desperate energy.

"Hahaha! Die! Die! Die!"

Cracks spiderwebbed out from under Seijirou’s head on the pavement, but Ayano showed no intention of stopping, consumed by the fight.

Suzune, Yukina, Emi, and Rindou, all struggling on the ground, witnessed the brutal assault.

Their cries were unified and heartbroken:

"Enough!"

"Stop it, you bastard!"

"He’ll die!"

Even Haruka, though she uttered no word, glared fiercely at Ayano, her eyes promising a fate worse than death.

Suddenly, a small, hard object struck Ayano squarely on the side of his head, causing him to momentarily stop his assault.

He turned his head, his Karyoku-infused rage barely contained. He saw the two girls who hadn’t engaged: the trembling Rei and Touka, both holding small stones, tears streaming down their faces as they stared at him in mortal fear.

"S-Seijirou can’t fight a-anymore!" Touka cried, her voice thin with terror. "Please, d-don’t hurt him a-anymore than this..."

"Please, let him go!" Rei begged, tears making clean tracks down her dusty cheeks. "Any more and he will really die!"

Ayano looked from the terrified girls back to Seijirou’s rapidly swelling face, completely ignoring them.

He grinned, a cruel, satisfied expression, and raised his Karyoku-charged hand, ready to deliver one final, crushing blow.

But this time, his attacking hand was intercepted.

It was caught, firmly, calmly, and completely, by an unfamiliar, cool grip.

Turning his head violently, Ayano saw a woman with impossibly white hair and startling blue eyes.

She wore glasses and a pristine white doctor’s coat, radiating an unnerving sense of calm that utterly defied the violence surrounding them.

It was Retsu.

"Enough."