underground figths.

Ogata was anything but a fool as he listened to the words; he saw Ryuto as a potential disciple each time he looked his way, but it was a disappointment. Ryuto's talent was lacking, no matter how hard he tried, he didn't possess the power or skill to excel in martial arts. It was frustrating to witness his lack of drive to improve, yet he sat calmly, satisfied with his minimal progress, a complete letdown.

Exiting the hallway, Ogata returned to the mountains; this meeting was merely a brief escape. He needed to observe the fighters he had mentioned with such pride, but none impressed him, not even the boy Fenir, who couldn't help but tremble in panic at his presence. A complete disappointment from Ogata's perspective.

-You're Shogo, right? - Kei asked, eyeing Berserk. As he remembered, Berserk had spiky blonde hair and a powerful physique resembling a bodybuilder, though the brute never trained; all his power came naturally from his constitution and talent. Among them, he was the one with the greatest potential for improvement.

-And what if I am, - Berserk replied. His instincts told him this guy was itching for a fight.

-Let's fight for your gloves. I'm annoyed being number eight; it's like the world thinks I'm in eighth place, and I don't like being undervalued, - Kei challenged Berserk.

At that moment, all fists preparing to leave halted at Kei's words. Ryuto narrowed his eyes; Kei's bloodlust was beginning to spiral out of control, a lesson learned from Hiyo Kure. It was wise to maintain some rawness in battles, expecting ill-conceived attacks or an unthinking beast. Nonetheless, he had already figured out how to defeat him by any means necessary.

-What are you talking about? - Freya interjected, clearly displeased with Fenir's behavior, having stirred the waters with her attitude and the harsh treatment she had given Kizara.

-Listen up, I want the gloves from number 2. I get it, nobody likes being challenged; it's a shame you all don't want to fight, but I want to start with him. There's a reason he's number two, - Kei commented, his energy beginning to surge with excitement. The need for battle grew more intense with each passing moment, not just street fights, private bouts, or underground competitions.

-You can do it, as long as it's with my consent, - Ryuto stated, taking his seat again, eager to see Fenir's limits, while Ogata's cloak disappeared into the mountain, heading towards the horizon in the distance.

-It doesn't matter; I'll show you the true flaws in your skills, - Berserk declared, cracking his shoulders and stretching his arms. The way he moved, the battle lust started to be questioned. Berserk was known for fighting martial artists, and in that way, the aura of the invincible troublemaker became visible, fists burying numerous artists.

Hermit watched everything with careful calmness; he had been training for years, at least four years of sharp and strong practice. Among the power scale, he was currently in the top three, below Berserk, followed by Freya, Loki, Sigfried, and Thor.

-But listen carefully, Fenir; if you lose the battle, you lose the right to challenge again and accept things as they are, - Ryuto commented.

-Fine, I accept, in sum, - Kei replied, who had been pushing his limits for five years, matching adults, from bone-hardening practice to payments from Hiyo. Every part of his training was pushed to the limit, always sought to understand how to improve.

The two fighters faced each other closely. Berserk threw a quick punch, which Kei met with his head; a look of disappointment crossed his face as his fist connected, but Kei used his head to strike the fist forcefully midway. Berserk's knuckles cracked, and he recoiled. A costly mistake.

Airwaves traveled!

Kei sent four rapid punches at Berserk; each blow was delivered with lethality learned from James Shiba. The first targeted the temple, the next the neck, nose, and eyes, all four strikes danced upon Berserk while he began to fall into Kei's traps. These punches would take a toll as the fight progressed; accumulation was the sin of boxers. Enduring was fine, but a boxer's punches were like a river flowing downstream; time wore down even the most resistant, hence they blocked or evaded.

Without giving him a moment to breathe, Kei delivered two more punches to the liver and heart. Both blows were loaded with hip movement, punches that hit flesh and traveled with power through the body. The final blow was aimed at the chin, but Kei halted as he felt a jolt fly, jumping back.

-Your punches are like those of a snail, - Shogo remarked, throwing numerous punches while Kei evaded each one. Some came close to connecting, highlighting why he found certain difficulties in fighting. It was convenient to see why most martial artists lost; it was the indiscriminate and ever-changing nature of their fighting style.

-I see that now. My apologies for this, - Kei replied.

Kei's fist landed forcefully on Berserk's face, a blow laden with the full weight of his body that sent him staggering back. He delivered another four punches, each targeting the same spot, causing Berserk to feel dizzy, as a result of the relentless blows.

-I call it the snail punch, - Kei remarked with obvious self-disdain in response to his opponent's words.

Berserk took a step back as blood streamed from his nose.

-You're a boxer. It's been a long time since I faced a boxer, - Berserk commented. Fists began to fly from both sides; Kei's punches sped up, matching Berserk's rapidity.

-It doesn't matter if you know my martial art; if you can't see my punch, it's a shame, - Kei commented, sensing another change in Berserk's stance—a low kick that he sidestepped with a twist, using his footwork to block with his shoulder while launching a calculated straight punch that Berserk dodged and countered with another blow. However, Kei stayed close, utilizing an inner fighting stance learned from close-quarters boxing, delivering a hook that hit its mark, sending him reeling.

-It's impossible, - Tanimoto thought, watching Kei's rapid straights fly like a mesh of punches.

Berserk spun in the air and delivered a kick, but Kei blocked it with a fist. Berserk's kick seemed powerful, but Kei's knuckles were like metal bullets that could break through anything.

-Oh, a crunch! Feeling the pain, - Kei commented, feeling the pain in his knuckles but noticing Shogo's slight limp.

Anger surged through Berserk; a crimson fever surged back and forth, and in his dissatisfaction, his fists sped up. Blows came and went, but Kei's endurance was legendary. For every strike Kei delivered, Berserk responded with others, but Kei's rhythm accelerated halfway through, uncovering Berserk's last trick—though he didn't practice martial arts, he had his foundations. The first was adaptation, which allowed him to match his opponent but lasted 10 seconds, whether in overcoming or countering in tempo.

He couldn't perform fair actions when Kei turned on the jets. It was like different punches that could throw off all of Berserk's defenses. His arms were bruised from Kei's heavy blows. Among all the members of Ragnarok, Kei's endurance and strength were superior, though he was matched in agility with Berserk. However, Odin watched as his speed began to grow and grow. A quick punch struck Shogo's body, leaving him breathless. Even as he tried to stand, he couldn't get up, feeling terror at Kei's bestial appearance, yet Kei himself remained eerily calm inside.

-I think I won, - Kei commented, barely a scratch on his body. He took Berserk's gloves, leaving the number eight lying on his body. He walked toward the exit, while Odin watched his back, and Hermit doubted his ability to win, even as Loki's plans began to take shape.

What would happen to Berserk? After his first loss, would he rise again, or would his power diminish? Now, he hoped Berserk would grow, much like Kovac's fight or his teacher. Stretching his arms, he tried on the number two, fitting it into his hands.

-I only used 70% of my power. I think in a fight against Odin, I could match him halfway, - murmured Kei. In mythology, it was prophesied that Fenrir would devour Odin; he was chained and imprisoned when he became impossible to control.