underground figths.

-Thanks for everything, - Kei said, taking a deep breath and raising his arms to the sky. He felt renewed. Japan was a majestic place.

-Haha, don’t worry about it, kid. You’re mature for your age. You have our contact info. I’ll miss hearing about you. I hope your fight in the underground competitions is fruitful. We’re always ready to help you out. You can apply for the job anytime; you’ve got the makings of a mercenary, - Cai commented, his smile wide. He was a very noble person, and contrary to what one would expect from a hitman, he was an honest, peaceful man who preferred to do his job with mercy. It was the only thing he knew how to do.

Kei nodded and took enough yen from his backpack to buy a house for his mother—honest money earned by saving lives around him. The first place he headed to was Runna’s school. Perched on a tree, he saw her red hair in a classroom.

Little Runna was the house princess, wearing a black beret as part of her school uniform. Seated in the second row, the school was among the top five in Tokyo, the Science Institute for Youths, the place Kei chose for his sister.

-Little Runna is too diligent for my taste. I should invite her to eat something delicious, - Kei commented, turning towards a building, but there was no one there, just the wind.

For ten minutes, he checked on his sister, followed by his mother.

The streets were empty, and the day was passing slowly. With a single step, he arrived at the mall where Chia worked. She was there, arranging some boxes of groceries. His mother saw the young man with red hair, taller, stronger, and more mature—the trip had done wonders for him, something his mother hadn’t noticed.

-I was thinking about you, Kei. I didn’t know you’d take so long. The bills were paid this month just as you said. I was able to save and get the gas fixed. My boy has been working responsibly. I can see you have money; your face says it all, - Chia Kazama commented, hugging Kei. His mother was still very gentle.

-Today we’ll eat something delicious. Prepare a meal with extra meat, and you can add some fish, - Kei commented, eager to celebrate. His mother nodded as a customer arrived. She took care of them, and Kei left a bank deposit in the account Nijima set up for the house bills, along with his mother’s account and Runna’s fund.

He handed over a considerable sum to the market. - Let’s celebrate, mother. -

-Yes, that sounds wonderful. -

With a smile on his face but a bad feeling, he decided to extend his task and buy some gifts for Runna, like school supplies and various things, to pay off his mother’s debts in other stores she used to frequent over the years. Checking the time, he hurried to meet the underground boxing god. The house under the Shiba bridge, the boxing master’s place, hadn’t changed at all in Kei’s eyes. It was where Japanese boxing would be reborn, like underground boxing.

-You’re finally here, kid, - Shiba commented from the stairs, reading a sports and travel magazine, smiling rebelliously.

-Sorry, I had a lot of things on my trip. I learned from experience, a headache I still carry with me, and I think I’m more powerful now than some time ago. But I must say I’ve come to understand the fleeting nature of life, - Kei commented, taking off his shirt. The wounds in just two months were ridiculous, something Shiba noticed, as well as the prudent energy the boy exuded.

-So, you’re going to tell me what happened? I’ve been keeping track of you, but I have no idea, - Shiba said, cleaning his ears with his pinky, stretching his body, loosening his muscles, and preparing to fight Kei and continue fighting without rest.

-It’s been a journey that led me to discover my weakness. -

The continuous hours were divided into a training fight. Shiba’s combos always pushed Kei to his limits, but the improvement was substantial. If Shiba could say it, Kei was now twice as fast in terms of reflexes. Both his instincts and reflexes were now one, and beyond that, Shiba saw that his punches were more powerful—his fists were pure steel, combined with his quick movements. Shiba could see that Kei was a monster. Shogo had leveled up but still lagged far behind, and among all this, Kei’s punches were more precise. He had actively improved his footwork and could now move with quick steps.

Kei's projection of throwing ten punches in the blink of an eye was good, and acceptable to the master who continued hammering Kei with soft liver punches.

-Let’s stop. I now have a clear idea of how much you’ve improved in the past few months. You’re frankly crazy, kid. I can see you’re growing little by little, your qualities are shining through, and that iron hook of yours is enough to knock out the best fighters. Now I can teach you a technique of my own—how to use ki. You need to improve that illusory punch and take it beyond, - Shiba smiled.

Without a doubt, the practice of the illusory punch began.

-Remember well, kid, ki is a source of energy that can only be summoned by martial arts masters. But you have my guidance. I’ll teach you the basic contacts of my illusory boxing. Blend the intention of the punch with the strength of the punch, - Shiba said.

Standing in front of Kei, Shiba’s energy lit up the whole area—a powerful ki capable of knocking down any ordinary person. In his basic boxing stance, he threw a straight jab, but it came with a different charge. The punch never actually landed, but Kei felt it touch his cheek. The trick was injecting the punch with speed and force. Kei restrained his instincts, and Shiba’s punch touched his abdomen.

The trick explained by Shiba was simple—a straight punch with all the intention, but the breath of ki was used to deceive the martial artist’s initiative and strike elsewhere. In a martial arts fight, various punches are communicated with positioning. Ki is the martial spirit's energy, and the punch was intended to be straight as a deception. The high level of the technique was the initiative of a punch taken to the extreme.

-I’ll inject my ki. -

Shiba taught him how to inject ki with the traditional method of punches. Each punch was prone to delivering numerous strikes, each carrying contrary intentions drawn from the ki—a strange concept. Throughout the process, Kei took each of Shiba’s punches carefully. The simulated fighting training was complex because Kei couldn’t detect the punch until it landed on him. Understanding the trick, the first point was that imitation was possible with a high level of training. Kei couldn’t land a single punch on target. However, reviewing the stances, correcting Kei’s punches, and continuing with all of Kei’s strikes.

-You’ve improved a lot... Your training journey has honed your sharp instincts, and your punches are quick. I can see you need training time to improve further. You’re learning, adapting, and transcending, - Shiba commented.

-Thank you, Shiba, -  Kei responded, lying down. James’ punches were hard and left marks on their bodies. James wasn’t someone who gave up easily, and Kei could see that in all the training situations, James’ punches were etched into his body. He now knew all kinds of punches.

-Here you go, - Shiba said, handing him a new training armor. The difference was that this one was thicker and tighter. The rivets were four palms bigger, crossing his body. Kei’s back was gigantic in a way, and the tightness of the spring was particularly annoying.

-This armor is great, - Kei replied, seeing how the warm-up was progressing. Shogo arrived in the afternoon with his usual unpleasant attitude and his way of squinting his eyes. Both were battered from the punches. Each agreed, and their fight began, their progress particularly outstanding.

...