Super Fighting Tokyo.

……

Below the ring.

Arisa clenched her fist and shouted, cheering for her two friends.

King Larma XIII laughed and said, "Although he is the king of mixed martial arts, Gaolang is still stronger in boxing sparring."

"Not necessarily, Your Highness Lalma."

Atami looked towards the arena, "I even think that with Okubo-kun's strength, he can defeat that [Fang of Destroyer]!"

"Oh?" Lalma raised an eyebrow expectantly.

……

……

Gaolang's pressure continued.

Okubo used his thick boxing gloves as a shield, and his defensive movements were quite solid.

However, against a heavyweight champion, the defended blows were still effective, seriously depleting Okubo's stamina.

"This won't do..."

Although it was supposed to be a boxing sparring session, Okubo felt that ending it like this would be too unseemly and not in line with his aesthetics.

But what if you can't outpace a jab, and you're unwilling to commit a foul?

"..."

call out!

Gaolang adjusted his striking position, aiming at Okubo's center line to further dismantle his defense and drag him into his own rhythm.

But in the next instant, Okubo suddenly lowered his body, almost sliding along the ground, and unexpectedly adjusted his position using wrestling techniques.

This seemingly foul move was immediately followed by a powerful upward punch, which was also a boxing move!

Okubo growled, "Drink up!"

Gaolang anticipated the location of the attack and lowered his body to defend himself.

boom!

He blocked Okubo's heavy punch head-on, took a few steps back, relaxed his arms and dangled, and bounced around to adjust himself.

"...!"

A hint of surprise appeared in those unchanging, lifeless eyes.

"Impressive. Not only can it dodge my suppression, but it can even launch an unexpected counterattack."

"..."

Upon hearing this, Okubo was not pleased.

His forearms were visibly red from the beating, and his once brand-new boxing gloves were now tattered and torn.

Even though the jab is known for its speed, when used by a boxer of Gaolang's caliber, its power is astonishing!

Okubo, panting heavily, grinned and said, "This is the first time I've ever taken a punch of this level. It's incredibly strong!"

……

……

Off the field.

"I've heard that IDEAL has been making frequent moves against members of the Quanyuan Association recently."

Lalma chuckled as she looked at Atami, "But even so, you're still indulging Okubo's whims!"

Atami smiled and said, "I have no regrets about making Okubo-kun a fighter. Like that [God of War], he has the talent to explore powerful techniques."

"The relationship between employers and fighters can sometimes transcend interests and become a manifestation of will in different areas, as is the case between Your Highness and the God of War."

"Like you, I also want to witness Okubo's greatness."

"..."

Lamar then signaled for a guard to ring the bell at the side of the field.

Ding!

After all, it's just practice. Although the goal is to fight a real battle, it's not a fight to the death. This level is just right.

……

……

Lamar climbed over the steps and onto the boxing ring.

He looked at Okubo, "How did it feel to spar with my [Battle God]?"

At that moment, Okubo was using his teeth to untie the end strap of his boxing gloves, and then using his armpits to pull them off.

"Incredibly strong!"

Okubo laughed and said, "Although I have also trained, in terms of striking skills, I still can't compare to a top 'expert'!"

"You're really not suited to being humble."

Gaolang sighed, "It was just a boxing practice session, no different from working out a muscle. Neither of us had even shown our fighting style yet."

"Haha, you really know a lot!"

Okubo laughed heartily.

In his mind, since they had played practice matches together, they must be very good friends.

“I said, Gaolang, my friend.”

Okubo was a little impatient. "I heard you're friends with [Fighting Spirit] too—of course, you don't need to spoil it for me, but what do you think Shiraki's fighting style is?"

"style?"

The question was strange, but Gaolang pondered it for a moment, recalling his battle with Dorian.

In that fight, Shiraki used Muay Thai, though he wasn't a master, he had a very strong style and his own understanding of it.

"If I had to put it into words, Shiraki's fighting style was both dazzling and solid."

"..."

Upon hearing this, Okubo grinned and exclaimed, "Wow, that's high praise!"

Gaolang nodded. "If you're not careful, you can be unexpectedly and instantly defeated—that's about it."

Okubo clenched his fist. "Haha, this is getting more and more interesting!"

"..."

Contact has been established, and Atami's long-held goal has been achieved.

After chatting for a while, Atami Hisashi was about to take his leave when Lalma suggested that they stay. Together with Arisa and Maruk, they enjoyed a Thai meal.

……

……

Three days later, at night, outside the Tokyo Dome.

Waaah—!

The black motorcycle roared along, driven by Wu Fengshui and carrying Bai Mucheng, and stopped in a corner of the Tokugawa family's private garage.

The two got off the vehicle one after the other, took off their helmets, and picked up their backpacks containing their usual items.

As for Arisa and Maruk, having nothing else to do, they set off early and waited directly in the audience area.

"..."

The two walked together into the dome, went to the elevator bearing the Tokugawa family crest, and took it straight to the sixth basement level, where the arena was located.

As soon as I stepped out of the elevator, I was greeted by an elderly gentleman, dressed in an elegant Western-style suit, with a straight posture, long hair combed back, and white hair and beard.

He is none other than Mitarai, a veteran receptionist at the Tokyo Dome underground arena.

"Welcome, you two. I'll take you to the lounge."

Mitarai bowed and led the way.

……

……

The athletes' lounge in the underground arena was simply decorated; it was just an ordinary room paved with large square floor tiles.

The facilities are very simple, consisting only of common items such as stools, sandbags, and water dispensers.

But for the warriors about to step into the arena, this is more than enough.

"..."

Shiramu Cheng took off his clothes, pants, and shoes, leaving only a pair of shorts, and began to punch and kick in place, gradually warming up his muscles.

Whoosh~ Whoosh whoosh!

As the attacks continued, the style intensified, like a powerful gust of wind sweeping across the land.

"..."

Wu Fengshui sat cross-legged in the corner, watching leisurely as usual.

Mitarai stood quietly to the side, scrutinizing Shiraki's movements, his eyes filled with undisguised admiration.

"I worked in the underground fighting arena for many years, and I was also in charge of that 'underground elimination tournament', witnessing Baki Hanma win the championship."

The old gentleman sighed to the young woman beside him, "Mr. Shiraki gives me the feeling of being very dashing, and unforgettable."

"Unlike the clean and pure 'Champion' Baki Hanma, and also unlike the 'God of War' Doppo Guji, who combines weight and sharpness."

"He has a unique presence; he is a colorful and beautiful warrior, like vibrant paint, which truly fits the 'street' style."

"..."

Upon hearing this, Shiraki Cheng began to stretch his legs, then smiled and said, "It feels truly an honor to be said this by Mr. Mitarai, who has seen countless people."