The Martial Arts Club's wooden floor creaked, and the crisp clatter of equipment abruptly fell silent.
"Challenge."
Hoshida No's voice wasn't loud, but it disrupted the rhythm of the dojo.
The club members, scattered around warming up and sparring, all turned to look. Within seconds, they had formed a semicircle around him, a wall of dark uniforms layered one behind another, their gazes tinged with curiosity and wariness.
He stood in the middle of the circle, his uniform collar neat, his hands hanging naturally at his sides. Dozens of eyes were fixed on him, but he showed no trace of nerves.
He lifted his eyes and swept his gaze across the crowd. His tone was calm and even. "I'll put up 100,000 Personal Points as the wager."
The words swept through the Martial Arts Club like a gust of wind, and whispers rose all around.
Some clenched their fists without thinking; others exchanged stunned looks. One hundred thousand points was enough to let an ordinary student live carefree for half a semester.
Hoshida No didn't pause. "If anyone can beat me, the 100,000 points are theirs."
He paused, then let his gaze settle on the senior from earlier and added the rest. "If not, I'll get 100,000 points."
The discussion on the dojo's wooden floor suddenly grew louder.
"The Chess Club got challenged by a first-year this morning. I heard they lost a lot of points!"
"Seriously? And now someone else is challenging the Martial Arts Club this afternoon? The new students this year are way too bold!"
Whispers spread through gaps in the wall of people, reaching plenty of ears.
Hoshida No's fingers twitched slightly at his side. The moment he caught the key detail, understanding flickered in his eyes.
As expected, Sakayanagi Arisu was using this same method to build up points. It seemed our ideas were in sync.
The silence in the circle lasted a few seconds. Someone in the crowd seemed eager to step forward, but no one rushed in.
The lure of 100,000 points was strong, but the unknown risks made them hesitate.
Just then, the senior from earlier took a deep breath and stepped forward.
The wooden floor creaked softly. He clenched both fists. "I accept your wager."
The two didn't begin fighting right away. A Martial Arts Club member hurried to fetch an upperclassman teacher.
The teacher carried a standard contract form. He glanced between the two and confirmed their point-account details and the rules of the match: no malicious attacks, the match would stop upon surrender, points would be transferred immediately, and all terms were clearly listed.
Hoshida No and the senior signed the contract in turn. The scratch of pen on paper rang especially clearly in the silent dojo.
Once the contract was signed, the teacher stepped outside the circle and raised a hand to signal that they could begin.
Both men stepped back two paces at the same time, putting three meters between them as they stood steadily in the middle of the ring formed by the club members. The surrounding chatter died away completely.
Hoshida No let his hands hang naturally, lowered his center of gravity slightly, and calmly fixed his gaze on the senior across from him, waiting for the signal to start.
The instant the teacher's hand came down, the senior attacked first. He sank his hips and twisted, driving his right fist straight at Hoshida No's face with a rush of wind. It was a powerful move, a standard straight punch used in the Martial Arts Club's practical training.
Hoshida No shifted his feet slightly and slipped aside as if the wind had gently pushed him away. At the same time, his left hand shot out and caught the senior's wrist with precision, his fingers applying force to defuse the momentum.
Caught off guard, the senior pitched forward. Just as he tried to pull his hand free and switch moves, Hoshida No's right hand had already pressed into the soft spot beneath his ribs. The force wasn't heavy, but it struck precisely where it needed to.
"Ugh!" The senior groaned, his strength suddenly giving out.
Hoshida No turned his wrist and guided the senior's arm down and back. At the same time, he stepped halfway forward and lightly pressed his knee against the bend of the senior's supporting leg.
The entire sequence flowed seamlessly. In less than two seconds, the senior lost his balance and dropped heavily to his knees on the wooden floor, never managing to drive his fist even an inch farther.
He struggled to get up, but Hoshida No had already released him and returned to his original position, his hands still hanging naturally at his sides and his breathing steady.
Dead silence filled the room. Even the sound of breathing seemed to have been paused.
A few seconds later, someone finally drew in a quiet, sharp breath. Their eyes were full of disbelief. The senior was one of the Martial Arts Club's core members, yet Hoshida No had beaten him in just three moves.
Hoshida No's movements had contained not a single wasted motion. Every step had precisely exploited an opening, so cleanly that no one could react in time.
The senior accepted his loss and transferred 100,000 points to Hoshida No in the teacher's presence.
Looking at the 200,000 points in his hand, Hoshida No didn't lower the phone he was holding. He spoke again. "This time, I'll put up 200,000 points as the wager."
The club members who had been tempted to step forward for 100,000 points fell completely silent. With 200,000 points on the line, no one dared rush in.
As the silence spread, a deep voice came from beyond the wall of people, carrying an air of pressure. "What are you all standing around for? Don't you have training to do?"
The crowd instinctively moved aside, opening a path.
Two burly figures walked over at an unhurried pace. Their uniforms strained across their broad shoulders, and every step made the wooden floor thud heavily.
Someone rose onto his toes to get a better look, then muttered under his breath to the person beside him, "It's Sato... and the club president!"
A core member jogged up to the two and explained what was going on.
They nodded, then looked straight at Hoshida No in the center of the room.
Sato stepped forward, his towering figure casting a shadow over Hoshida No. He looked him up and down, his gaze sharp as a blade and seasoned with years of training. "You beat Qiancheng in three moves, kid. You've got some skill."
He clenched his fists, and the air around him suddenly tightened. "Since you've come here to challenge us with points on the line, let me take you on."
The moment the teacher raised his hand to signal the start, Sato suddenly sank low and stamped down.
The wooden floor creaked heavily. His burly frame surged forward with astonishing speed, both arms locking onto Hoshida No's shoulders like iron clamps.
It was a common takedown in the Martial Arts Club's practical training. He meant to use his weight advantage to pin his opponent down outright.
Hoshida No lightly touched his toes to the floor and suddenly slid half a meter backward, just avoiding the chokehold-like grip.
Before Sato could regain his balance, Hoshida No's left foot slipped diagonally between his legs. His right hand caught Sato's wrist with precision, while his left pressed into the hollow near his shoulder blade. He twisted, using Sato's own momentum against him.
"Hmph!" Sato grunted. His arm went numb from the twist, but he still used brute strength to turn around, swinging his other fist at Hoshida No's face with a rush of wind.
Hoshida No didn't dodge. He turned his wrist to deflect the punch's force, while his knee struck the numbing point on the outside of Sato's thigh. His movements were so fast that they blurred.
Sato's legs went weak, and he instantly lost his balance. Hoshida No seized the opening, driving his right elbow hard into Sato's ribs while wrapping his left arm around Sato's waist. He hooked his leg behind Sato's and lifted.
The entire sequence flowed like water, without a single unnecessary flourish.
"Bang!"
Sato's massive body slammed into the wooden floor, sending up a layer of wood dust.
He struggled to push himself up, only to find Hoshida No's knee resting lightly against his chest. The pressure wasn't great, but it left him unable to move.
From the first attack to his defeat, it had taken no more than five moves. Hoshida No's breathing remained steady, and his uniform hadn't even picked up a speck of dust.