Ichigo Kurosaki had never imagined that techniques could have so many variations, and he could not even comprehend their power.
"Whirlwind Iron Cutting Fist!"
A Berserker suddenly erupted with astonishing Aura. His fist wind swept in like a tornado, carrying the shrill sound of air being Torn apart as it bore straight down on Ichigo Kurosaki.
In that instant, Ichigo Kurosaki's momentary carelessness had nearly gotten him dismembered by that terrifying fist force. The illusion of his body being torn into pieces filled him with an unprecedented sense of danger. It was not merely physical pain, but a profound doubt in his own abilities.
But when he got serious, all his attacks were neutralized by the Flowing Water Shattering Rock Fist. That seemingly gentle yet razor-edged style was like a mountain stream: splitting when it met stone, flowing through when it found a crack, cleverly defusing every attack one by one.
Though these Berserkers were inferior to him in pure strength and speed, they could use these fighting styles to overcome stronger opponents with weaker strength, beating him until he could not fight back at all.
"I should have my own fighting style too!"
Ichigo Kurosaki roared inwardly. He realized that brute force and talent alone were not enough to establish himself in a world filled with powerful people.
A true powerhouse needed not only immense strength, but also a combat philosophy of his own, merging technique and will into one.
His frustration and determination transformed into an unstoppable force, surging through every cell in his body.
He closed his eyes, cast aside all distracting thoughts, and focused all his attention on his brain, as though holding a silent conversation with it.
***"Brain, think of something already, damn it!!! What I need is a fighting style that will let me