A sharp pain shot through them, and the members of Idaten screamed as they collapsed to the ground.
Kawamoto, using the force of the twist, straightened his body, and withdrew the dagger he had seized from the man's leg, drawing a spray of blood.
The short knife was deftly flipped half a circle in the palm.
The hilt of the knife faced forward, held in his hand, without the blade being used.
He stepped forward, the hilt of his knife like a heavy hammer, and slammed it into the chest of a man in front of him.
"Well!"
The man was struck as if by lightning; his eyes widened, he couldn't catch his breath, and he fainted.
Disarming an enemy barehanded, counterattacking and injuring them—the movements are fluid and effortless, devoid of any harshness.
His movements were extremely concise and efficient.
Every strike is precisely aimed at the most vulnerable part of the human body.
It may seem like a minor injury, but those struck by it instantly lose their ability to move and collapse in agony.
Moreover, his movement was extremely unpredictable.
The steps may seem simple, but they always manage to evade attacks from all directions with the slightest margin, while simultaneously launching the most effective counterattacks.
Those waving steel pipes, wooden sticks, and machetes.
Often, they couldn't even touch the hem of his clothes before he would get close enough to knock them down with a single blow.
His fists, palms, elbows, knees, and even his knuckles all possess terrifying explosive power.
A punch to the stomach can make a strong man kneel down and vomit.
A single palm strike to the side of the neck can instantly render someone unconscious.
An elbow strike to the chest can make it hard for someone to breathe.
A knee strike to the thigh can cause muscle spasms.
Moreover, he is extremely fast; often, his counterattack arrives before his opponent has even begun their attack.
He was like a precise yet violent machine, methodically clearing obstacles through the crowd.
Wherever it passed, it was as if an invisible scythe was harvesting everything; Idaten's men fell in droves, their groans echoing everywhere.
Junya, Nakajo, and Kamishima were all stunned.
They had heard from Masaki that the president was a good fighter, but they didn't expect him to be good at fighting like this.
No, this is beyond the realm of being able to fight.
That's professional-level combat skill and physical ability.
That grasp of timing, control of distance, use of every muscle in the body, and insight into the opponent's weaknesses—
That's a killing technique that can only be honed through countless real battles and become second nature!
Although the president avoided fatal blows, there's no doubt that if he had wanted to, none of these people would have survived.
Moreover, the president didn't utter a single unnecessary shout from beginning to end, and his breathing didn't even become rapid.
He simply advanced silently, struck silently, and silently felled one enemy after another.
"This... this is the president's true strength?"
Junya knocked down an opponent with a single punch, watching Kawamoto stroll leisurely through the crowd, causing chaos and defeat wherever he went.
Nakajo's eyes were sharp; he tried to see Kawamoto's every move, but found it too fast for him to keep up.
Strength, skill, experience, instinct...
He muttered to himself, his voice filled with disbelief.
Kamishima licked his lips, the cruel excitement in his eyes replaced by a deeper fanaticism.
"Damn it—that's incredible—this is the monster I want to follow!"
Masaki watched Kawamoto's retreating figure, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes.
He knew Kawamoto strong, but to this extent still exceeded his expectations.
Kawamoto's move completely shattered Idaten's psychological defenses.
They had never encountered such a terrifying opponent.
Without shouting or dodging, they simply advanced silently, made their moves silently, and then their own people inexplicably fell down.
This kind of cold-blooded violence is more terrifying than any howling or intimidation.
"Monster! He's not human!!"
"Run! Run fast!"
A crash has occurred.
The remaining members of the Idaten cried out in despair, throwing down their weapons, wanting nothing more than to escape the silent, black demon.
On the high platform, Mitani Jun's face was ashen.
He smashed the wine bottle, tore off his special forces uniform, drew two short-handled machetes, and roared as he charged down the platform, heading straight for Kawamoto.
Several cadres, including the blond-haired youth, reluctantly followed.
"Your opponent is me."
Masaki flashed forward, blocking Mitani's path.
On the other side, the young man with the nose ring and several cadres charged towards Kawamoto.
The blond-haired youth, wielding a spiked club with embedded iron nails, slammed it down on Kawamoto's head with a screech.
Kawamoto did not gamble on the quality of the helmet.
He chose to dodge.
He tilted his head slightly to the left, and the spiked club, carrying a gust of wind, grazed past his ear.
In the instant the young man's body leaned forward due to inertia, Kawamoto spun around and delivered a lightning-fast chop, precisely striking the inside of the blond youth's right elbow joint as he held the stick.
"Ah!"
The young man felt a sudden, sharp pain and numbness in his entire right arm, and lost all feeling in it, causing the spiked club to slip from his hand.
Kawamoto seized the wrist that the man pulled back in pain, pulled it towards him, and at the same time raised his left knee and slammed it into the man's abdomen.
"Vomit--!"
The young man's eyes bulged out, and he vomited bile, his body curled up like a shrimp.
Kawamoto released his grip, and the young man collapsed to the ground.
The other two attacked as well, one swinging an iron chain at Kawamoto's neck, and the other wielding a dagger at Kawamoto ribs.
Kawamoto was short, and the iron chain whistled overhead.
His feet slipped unpredictably, and he darted out like an eel, instantly cutting into the arms of the man with the dagger.
Under the other person's horrified gaze, Kawamoto's shoulder slammed into the other person's chest.
"Bang!"
A dull thud.
The man felt as if he had been hit head-on by a motorcycle; he experienced severe chest pain and difficulty breathing.
He flew backward with both feet off the ground, and the dagger in his hand fell limply to the ground.
Kawamoto didn't even look. Using the reaction force of the impact, his body spun around, and his right hand lashed out like a whip, striking the temple of the man wielding the chain with precise precision.
"Smack!"
A crisp sound.
The man felt a buzzing in his head, his vision went black, and he collapsed to the ground, unconscious.
Clean and efficient, swift and decisive.
The cadres were like clay chickens and earthen dogs in front of Kawamoto, collapsing instantly.
At this moment, Masaki had already knocked Mitani Jun to the ground.
He pressed Mitani down with his knee and was tying him up with a rope.
The battle inside the warehouse is now completely over.
Of the more than 300 members of the Idaten, half had fled, while the rest lay sprawled on the ground, groans and cries echoing throughout.
Fewer than twenty people were still standing.
They all huddled in a corner, staring at the five menacing figures in the arena with eyes that looked at them as if they were monsters.
Especially the figure who wore a black helmet throughout.
Junya, Nakajo, Kamishima were panting heavily, all with bruises on their bodies, but their eyes were burning as they looked at Kawamoto.
Never before have they been so clearly aware of the chasm-like gap between themselves and the president.
It's not just a difference in combat strength, but a fundamental difference in mindset, perspective, and understanding of battle.
Kawamoto walked over to Masaki and glanced at Mitani Jun was bound like a dumpling and still struggling and cursing.
Junya slapped Mitani across Mitani face. "Who stole the car this afternoon?"
Mitani subconsciously glanced at the young man with the nose ring.
" Masaki... has this hobby?"
Kawamoto asked in surprise.
"I love you, old man!"
Masaki tied up Mitani and cursed irritably.
He stood up and said to Kawamoto, " Kawamoto, you don't need to participate in the rest of the program."
He paused, then added, "Your hands are too clean. Let us do this."
Kawamoto glanced at him, then at the excited and expectant looks on Junya and the other two's faces, and nodded.
He nodded and walked towards the warehouse entrance.
Wherever he went, the remaining members of Idaten's faction who were still able to move shrank back in terror as if they had seen a plague god, making way for him.
Masaki gave Junya and the other two a wink.
Junya, Nakajo, and Kamishima immediately understood, their faces revealing cruel yet excited smiles.
They found sturdy ropes and tied the hands of the young man with the nose ring, along with four or five other core members.
The other end of the rope was tied to their locomotive parked outside the warehouse.
"No! Let me go! Do you know who I am? Idaten will not let you get away with this!"
Mitani Jun cursed fiercely, but his voice was weak inside.
"And Idaten?"
Masaki lit another cigarette, squatted down, poked the cigarette butt against Mitani's face, and smiled coldly.
"Isn't it already gone?"
As for who we are—
Masaki stood up, hopped on his blood-red motorcycle, and rode off into the rain.
The rain soaked his hair, but he didn't seem to care.
His gaze fell on Mitani's pale face, and his voice rang out clearly in the rainy night. "Remember, we are the Racing Angels."
"We call the shots at night in Shonan."
"Let's go, take the Chief of Staff and his loyal officers."
"Let's go for a drive and sober up!"
"Boom-!!!"
The four motorcycles roared furiously, their engines raging, dragging the screaming and struggling Mitani Jun and the others behind them into the torrential rain!
Inside the warehouse, the remaining remnants of Idaten's gang listened to the receding engine sounds and screams, their faces turning deathly pale.
They knew that Idaten was finished.
Kawamoto Kazuki walked outside the warehouse, and the rain instantly engulfed him.
He stepped into the blue Z1 and drove into the endless rainy night.