The three stared in disbelief.
They'd been played by him just that morning. Given his personality, would he really make up so easily?
The Boxing Club President looked him up and down, then scowled and demanded, "What's this all about, Kiryuin?"
"You put on such a good show that I thought I'd pay the admission fee."
Kiryuin Fuuka handed them the items in her hands.
"You've been in the club for a year. We've known each other this long, and you still don't understand us? You think we'll believe that?"
They kept talking, but the three still took the towels and wiped themselves down.
It was just a sugar-coated bullet. They'd eat the candy and leave the bullet behind.
They twisted open the bottles and drank deeply.
The sweet-and-sour drink slid through their mouths and throats into their stomachs.
The water and trace minerals gave them back a little of their strength.
"You've wiped off your sweat and had some water. Now, don't get mad about what I'm about to tell you."
Kiryuin Fuuka clasped her hands behind her back and lowered her head, wearing a sly grin that said her scheme had worked.
She tossed the empty bottle toward the trash can.
It clanged in.
The Boxing Club President looked completely unconcerned.
What could a girl like you do to us, anyway?
"You all probably remember the time the club president danced to a girl group song in the lounge."
"I recorded it."
"I just sent it to our junior, Tanaka."
How despicable! How could anyone be so shameless?
...The Boxing Club President immediately looked ready to blow up.
The other two hurried to hold him back, then leaned in and whispered,
"President, we recorded it this morning too."
Well, setting a trap for someone and preparing to record them in advance wasn't exactly difficult.
They were all shameless.
But between the two, his girl group dance was obviously more embarrassing.
"You're devious, but I'm no pushover either."
"I recorded something this morning too."
"Let's all sign a mutual non-aggression pact."
They really were members of the same club. They had no qualms about sabotaging one another.
Kiryuin Fuuka's triumphant expression shifted, and her voice turned chilly.
"I never thought the president was that kind of person."
"Likewise. At least I didn't send it to anyone else. I'm way better than you."
When she saw that she couldn't intimidate them, Kiryuin Fuuka broke into a smile again.
"Then from now on, nobody shares the videos they have. That goes for everyone."
Tanaka Yukishin stayed in the ring.
He turned and gestured with his eyes to Koenji Rokusuke.
"Tanaka-kun, aren't you going to take a break?"
He took off his jacket, leaving himself in a short-sleeved T-shirt.
Koenji Rokusuke lifted the white ring ropes and stepped across, stopping opposite Tanaka Yukishin.
"Not at all. I've still got plenty of stamina."
"Honestly. You're clearly the weaker one, yet you talk like you're the stronger one."
"Wouldn't it be better to improve your chances by preparing, like they did?"
"Even animals know to compare themselves. They look at sharper claws and fangs, larger bodies, faster speed, and greater strength."
"After watching that fight, you can't possibly have missed the difference between us."
"And yet you're passing up your chance and acting so arrogant that you're telling me to rest."
"Don't do something stupid and turn into an idiot. I hate talking to idiots."
Tanaka Yukishin shook his head, suddenly no longer interested in fighting.
He hated fools even more than bad people.
To put it simply, bad people were normal people with poor character, while fools were mentally disordered and confused.
Bad people pursued their own interests, so at least their actions had some logic.
Fools had no logic at all. You couldn't reason with them.
They were like unpredictable, uncontrollable, randomly placed bombs with uncertain destructive power.
A classic example: the Three Stooges of Class D had brazenly installed a camera in the girls' locker room.
The spectators nearby and the members of the Boxing Club stopped in their tracks.
"What's with this guy? Didn't he see us sparring with Tanaka-kun just now?"
The Boxing Club President looked utterly baffled.
He'd heard Tanaka Yukishin's words too.
Anyone who challenged Tanaka Yukishin had to have some ability.
But without seeing it with his own eyes, he couldn't believe a school could have a second monster, especially one on Tanaka Yukishin's level.
"No idea. He came with our junior, Tanaka."
Kiryuin Fuuka looked just as puzzled.
Koenji Rokusuke began warming up in the ring.
As he warmed up, he said,
"There are two reasons."
"First, Tanaka-kun, there's no doubt you're a monster among students. But among humans, you're not all that exceptional. I've seen even more outrageous things."
"Second, Tanaka-kun, have you ever played video games?"
Watching Koenji Rokusuke loosen up, Tanaka Yukishin wondered how he planned to convince him.
"I have."
"Then you should know that winning and losing are an important part of the gaming experience, but they aren't everything."
I see.
Tanaka Yukishin thought of all the different camps in gaming: people who cared about winning, people who cared about power, achievement hunters, fans of good-looking characters, collectors, theorycrafters, and CG hunters...
Was this guy treating him like a boss in a Soulslike game?
He didn't have time for that.
"Then what are you doing this for?"
"The more you learn, the more you realize how small you are. But I won't let that take away my drive to move forward."
"As a friend, Tanaka-kun, you wouldn't mind sparring with me two or three times a year, would you?"
After warming up, Koenji Rokusuke adopted a conventional fighting stance.
He held his left fist out and kept his right fist beside his cheek.
It was nice talking to someone smart.
All right, your reason convinced me.
"Friendly advice: give up if you can't take it."
Tanaka Yukishin held out one hand and beckoned him over.
Then he countered with a punch to Koenji Rokusuke's face as he darted forward with a quick step.
He followed with a kick, driving into Koenji Rokusuke's crossed arms.
The blow sent him flying back two meters.
The spectators were speechless.
What was the point? He couldn't even dodge a casual strike.
What was the point of taking a beating like that?
If you were a masochist, go find a sadist.
Don't sully the boxing ring.
If you really wanted to fight, you could learn from the others.
Ganging up on a monster wasn't shameful.
Tanaka Yukishin didn't follow up. He stayed where he was and watched Koenji Rokusuke get back into position.
In the ring, Tanaka Yukishin stood with his arms at his sides.
Koenji Rokusuke suddenly clicked the heels of his sneakers together. His arms spread like an eagle's wings, and his knees bent slightly as he settled into a distinctive opening stance. It was neither a traditional boxing guard nor karate's Sanchin stance, but rather a unique style that seemed to blend in elements of classical martial arts.
The Boxing Club President took the towel from around his neck, wrapped it around his fist, and waved it as he imitated the pose. "Is that... an Aikido breathing throw?"
"Not exactly." Kiryuin Fuuka ran a fingertip along her chin. "Judging by the direction of his toes, it looks more like a modified version of Brazilian dance-fighting footwork."
Koenji's stance adjusted subtly with his breathing, his weight shifting smoothly between his front and back foot.
When the sole of his right foot pivoted across the ground for the fifth time, his whole body suddenly shot forward like an arrow loosed from its string.
His advance wasn't straight. He circled in with a zigzag step, his left hand held loosely like a claw to feel out the way, while his right fist remained tucked at his waist, ready to strike.
Tanaka Yukishin didn't move. He waited until his opponent came within two meters, then suddenly dropped his shoulder.
The subtle movement made Koenji's pupils contract. His left leg had been about to step forward, but he forced it back and changed tactics, testing him with a low side kick.
The sole of his shoe sliced through the air with a hiss, but just before it could reach his opponent's shin, Tanaka Yukishin's foot struck his ankle.
"Smack!"
As they collided, Koenji used the momentum to spin. At last, the right fist he'd kept hidden behind him bared its fangs.
The concealed uppercut harnessed the force of his entire body twisting, rising from below toward Tanaka Yukishin's chin.
His fist left a blur in the air, but a raised palm stopped it midway. At some point, Tanaka Yukishin had lifted his left arm, and the outside of his forearm precisely knocked Koenji's wrist aside.
Seriously, why did he have such stupid ideas about fighting?
Spinning around in a one-on-one fight—did he think he was Jackie Chan?
If Tanaka Yukishin hadn't been curious about all his fancy moves, he would've just punched him in the face again.
Tanaka Yukishin instinctively mocked him in his thoughts.
A shout burst from Koenji's mouth. He shifted all his weight forward, trying to make up for the difference in strength with close-quarters grappling.
His left knee had barely begun to rise for a strike when a force like a collapsing mountain slammed into his abdomen.
"Thud!"
The ring shook with a heavy thump. Koenji slid backward into the ropes, his back stretching the elastic cords until they creaked painfully.
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