Kapitel 2: The Survivor
"Murobuchi made the first move!"
"That's the way!"
"This newcomer doesn't look too shabby."
The low sound of cheers barely reached Vincent's ears. This silent battlefield was far louder..The experience and weight behind that kick told him that he was up against quite the tough opponent, let alone the pain it gave to him. He was tough but...
Murobuchi Gozo is no martial artist.
The blow wasn't the strongest attack he's ever felt, but it definitely didn't fall short to even the strongest of the Slaughter Coliseum. His opponent wasn't a martial artist, but that doesn't make him weak.
Vincent pulled his hands out of his pockets. He can't really play around here, can he?
He could feel it: the odds were against him. They were for good reason, for his opponent wasn't one to be trifled with. Well, that just means he's gonna make some gamblers feel very, very disappointed.
Vincent won't lose to this man.
The foreigner lightly bent his knees and put his fists up, ready to take whatever attacks his larger opponent would dish out.
'Come on, big guy."
"Not coming to me?" Murobuchi asked. "Then I'll come to you!"
A flurry of punches rained down at Vincent. His arms weathered the powerful attacks head on, not making any attempts to parry to reduce the amount of damage. He bore the full mass and power of the attacks from the heavyweight fighter. Vincent was being pushed back by greater weight.
His understanding of his opponent increased. Murobuchi isn't a traditional fighter, but he prefers strikes. Does that mean he won't grapple? Vincent can't be too sure yet, so he digs his feet into the ground and stops his sliding.
He didn't budge anymore.
'This man...'
Murobuchi noticed it immediately. After striking him over and over with his strength, his arms should be hurting. If they aren't starting to go numb, then they should at least be bruising heavily.
However, there were no signs of that. Through the gap in his guard, the larger man looked at how calm his opponent was. His eyes looked at him, looked through him.
Murobuchi's brow twitched in uncertainty. A memory of an individual more beast than man came to mind. A Tiger that wouldn't fall. That memory emboldened him and strengthened his resolve.
"HAA!" He shouted and threw out another front kick to shake Vincent's balance.
"Oh—"
And it worked.
His arms rose from the attack and his footing was disturbed. His center was left open, which Murobuchi took advantage of, throwing a twisting punch into Vincent's gut.
'He got me.'
The shorter fighter's body froze from the attack, his mind registering the pain before spittle came out. Because of that short hesitation which was born in him, he wasn't able to protect against the next attack.
Murobuchi Gozo was not a martial artist. He himself knew this better than anyone, yet he challenged this field with skills of his own. He was a potent athlete who surpassed everyone who stood above the ground. He participated in a variety of events and was peerless in many of them, even surpassing specialists in their own field. He surpassed the world.
So, he dove beneath the world to new territories to conquer them as well.
Mimicking throwing a heavy ball, Murobuchi gathered a great amount of weight into his hand and tightened his fist with pressure that made his hand red. Had his nails been longer, they would've deeply bitten into his palm.
This was a strike born from the weight of his olympian experiences.
Murobuchi swung downward, a hammer blow coming straight toward Vincent's cheek. The size of the man's hand, however, extended the range of impact. The chin also fell victim to this strike as well, serving as a perfect knockout blow to any fighter.
This was the Shot Put Strike. Even a fighter used to head blows would be taken out instantly from a wound up attack like that.
Vincent fell to the attack. His back unceremoniously hit the ground, his body showing absolutely no sign of movement. Murobuchi looked at the body opponent who fell just like the rest for just a brief moment before sighing. He clenched his fist and set his eyes on further heights. He looked beyond the crowd and stared into the eyes of his target.
"Ah...!" Vincent's sudden employer, Ohta, began internally panicking at what he just saw. Vincent took the hammer punch and went down like a sack of potatoes with no visible movement being made, like he was actually unconscious.
But if he was actually knocked out then that would mean...
'Is this really the end?!'
He looked over to Murobuchi's employer who was showing an assured smile as if he expected this result.
"Could Kenzo have been wrong?" The CEO felt a great amount of worry. He didn't even tell Vincent what was riding on this match. If he truly lost this, then that would be a great setback to his company...!
Ohta shook his head back and forth while worrying what the true CEO of the company would think about this result.
Other than Ohta, there were a few other people who wanted to take the risky bet on the newbie out of greed. The odds were against them, so if Vincent won, the amount of money they'd be showering in if they won would be very nice as spending money. Unfortunately, it seems like those dreams will float away and stay nothing more than dreams as Vincent was taken down.
The referee was slow to raise his hand. He didn't expect it to be over so quickly. "We have a wi—"
"Don't be so hasty to call the match already."
The referee was forcefully stopped.
Murobuchi froze. He broke his gaze away from a man deep in the crowd. He locked eyes with the opponent he thought he defeated, surprise coloring his expression. His self-assured grin that brimmed with uncertainty gained a trace of solemnity.
Nobody saw when Vincent got to his feet as they were focused on how Murobuchi knocked out his opponent so quickly. It put Vincent out of their minds, which is how he was only noticed after he put the ref's hand down himself and spoke words against the outcome of the match. But even still, some slight movement should've garnered attention.
Did he just get up that quickly?
Vincent's heavy breathing seemed to reveal the effect of the attack that had on him, yet his next words and actions contradicted that.
He carelessly massaged exactly where it landed. "That smarts." He was smiling just as easily as he was right before the match began.
"Hah! Can you still fight?" Vincent took in Murobuchi's gloating tone and responded accordingly.
"You blasted me with all your force and I'm not even bleeding. Shouldn't I ask if you can still win?" Vincent already crossed out the possibility of this man killing him. It just wasn't possible if that's all he could do even after being given the opportunity.
Murobuchi's smile widened and took on a predatory quality to Vincent's challenge. The ref, understanding that the two were still going to go at it, backed away from them and watched from a distance.
"It's not over yet?"
"Come on Murobuchi! Finish it already!"
"...I will believe in Kenzo's choice!" After seeing Vincent stand up, Ohta buried his doubts and decided to believe in Vincent to win even if he was facing somebody who's experienced in the Kengan Matches.
No, he believed in the one who led him all the way to the top!
Vincent and Murobuchi inched closer toward each other with patience holding back their incoming clash. Eventually, the taller man couldn't wait, and he charged forward.
Vincent responded and threw a straight right to test the waters. The results of his attack were not completely out of his expectations.
Murobuchi blocked the attack and received no damage at all all while putting his weight into a straight right of his own, his fist sinking into Vincent's face. The punch didn't break his nose, but he felt the pain that rippled in his skull.
'Kengan Matches, huh? They're pretty good.'
He unsteadily backed away from the attack, his guard open once more. Murobuchi didn't unleash a hammer blow this time, however. What he did was rapidly strike Vincent's body with speedy punches that he couldn't keep up with.
Stomach, chest, face. All these core targets were assaulted with no mercy while Vincent threw out seemingly desperate counterattacks in an attempt to trade damage for damage. unfortunately, his opponent's build not only contributed to a higher durability, but also contributed to more power.
Vincent was knocked to the ground by a hammer blow to the top of the head. Murobuchi didn't let up this time. He stomped down at at Vincent's stomach with all of his weight concentrated into his foot.
Not only did spittle come out, but blood did as well from the attack. Murobuchi still did not let up. Vincent's eyes were still open, and the light that strove for victory still gleamed in his pupils. He would not stop until Vincent was unconscious.
"He mounted him! This might be the end!"
Fist after fist landed on the man's face. His cheeks, his jaw, his temples, all were subject to Murobuchi's strikes from his large fist. The punches were heavy and Vincent absolutely felt the pain.
The rain of blows ceased after one whole minute. It was a short period of time, but on the other hand, it was a whole minute of nonstop blows smashing Vincent's consciousness to pieces.
One man was standing and breathing heavily and the other man was on the floor and not moving at all, his breath stable, yet weak.
Murobuchi delivered kept striking with one hundred percent of his strength, which left him mildly exhausted from the strain. He's sure that his opponent wouldn't be able to get up from that relatively soon and he saw how Vincent could only let out weak breaths with his eyes closed.
That means he should be unconscious, right?
Wrong.
Vincent's hands twitched.
'No...'
He slowly got to his feet. Murobuchi didn't take advantage of the slow man's recovery. He was truly stunned by Vincent's endurance. His face was bruised up by his blows and his head was bleeding. He should've gotten a concussion before he finished his beatdown...so how?
"How are you still able to get up?!" He faced the Wild Tiger before, so he knows that there are opponents who can keep on moving after suffering his attacks like some sort of juggernaut, yet there's a large difference between Wakatsuki Takeshi and his current opponent.
There's not only the weight difference, but the height as well. Vincent Walker's frame is smaller than Murobuchi's, which means his body has less damage it can take. With less tolerance for damage comes less endurance. He shouldn't be able to take all those blows head on and keep going.
'Is there some sort of trick? A technique?'
The athlete racked his brain, but he just couldn't understand no matter what.
The physical difference between the two is obvious and the larger man took full advantage of that natural fact.
However, Vincent stood tall in the face of those odds. The blood he coughed up from the assault on his stomach shows that there should be an internal injury, yet he's is treating it like it's nothing.
And then he finally answered Murobuchi's doubts with the most simplest of reasons.
"Your attacks aren't good enough to keep me down." He smiled and patted his stomach. A simple answer. A correct answer. An arrogant answer.
Murobuchi stepped back, but not out of fear or doubt.
He could no longer hold back anything.
He took on a runner's stance that made the crowd raise their voices as they're going to see his strongest attack. The pressure emanating from the athlete was enough to put Vincent on guard. His smile dropped and he kept his hands open.
He might need to block this next attack.
Murobuchi vanished from view.
'Ah well, screw it.'
A swift flying knee crashed straight into Vincent's chin. His body was completely lifted off the ground and he fell headfirst onto the solid ground. The sensation of his brain bouncing around in his skull paralyzed him momentarily. He could not push through the limitations of his own body despite his mind wanting otherwise.
Murobuchi believed that to be the winning blow.
That should've been the winning blow.
Vincent woozily got back to his feet, his balance completely shaken as he couldn't stand straight. His drunken stumbling was enough to tell everyone that he took a serious amount of damage. His shaking brain finally settled down and his mind could finally order his body properly.
The athlete looked upon the smirking Vincent. It was like an electric current was running through his spine. He could do nothing but stand shocked and silent from the sight of a man who would not stop getting up no matter how much abuse was heaped on his body.
To Vincent, however, Murobuchi is stronger than anyone he's ever faced in the Slaughter Coliseum. Vincent's strikes weren't enough to even make him hesitate while Murobuchi was launching a spirited assault on him. The strongest man in the Slaughter Coliseum he took part in before this would've been knocked unconscious.
He rested a hand on his neck and cracked it.
In the past, Vincent was once called The Survivor.
Wöchentlicher Energiestatus
-- Power-
Rangliste 
-- Power-
Stein