Super Fighting Tokyo.

Chapter 630 Meeting

Inside the corridor.

[Demon Spear] Kuroki Gensai had already sensed Miyamoto Musashi's arrival.

But he remained steadfast, facing the wall, his posture and aura more solid and weighty.

"Well……"

Musashi remained silent, his tiger-like eyes unblinking, a smirk playing on his lips as he watched with keen interest.

The next second—

Swish!

Kuroki moved his feet, his figure suddenly blurred, leaving two friction marks on the ground, and in the blink of an eye he rushed to the wall.

He stood facing the wall, legs slightly bent and apart, palms outstretched diagonally upwards in a penetrating stance, with his left hand in front and his right hand behind, steadily supporting the wall.

The left fingertip, which is at the front, is so close to the wall that the gap is almost invisible to the naked eye!

Swish!

Kuroki pressed his left hand forward, instantly piercing four fingers into the wall, deeply embedding them into the hard brick.

He kept moving, thrusting left and right with his hands in quick succession.

Swish swish!

Upon closer inspection, one can see that the details of Kuroki's thrusting motion vary with each strike. It's not just about thrusting out with all four limbs together; sometimes the thumb, and even the knuckles and wrist, are also involved!

This is the "part training" of the Odd Arm Style.

Simply having a sharp blade is far from enough; only by thoroughly forging the limbs into weapons can it be called a "Demon Spear"!

Crack, crackle, crackle—!

Kuroki used both hands simultaneously, employing elaborate yet solid techniques to engulf the wall like a storm, producing a series of crisp sounds.

A few seconds later, Kuroki suddenly stopped striking, and wisps of dust rose from his hands, trailing all the way to the wall in front of him.

shuh...

Kuroki turned around and lowered his hands.

Immediately, dust and debris rained down from the wall that had been hit, revealing that it had been smashed into a large crater by bare hands!

Countless handprints and finger marks remain on the inner walls of the pit.

It seemed to be something that could not be done by human power, but rather a beautiful relief sculpture that craftsmen had painstakingly created with countless efforts!

"Um..."

Kuroki lowered his gaze and exhaled softly.

Seeing this scene.

Miyamoto Musashi, who had been watching for a long time, stroked his chin and exclaimed, "Oh, what amazing unarmed skills!"

Musashi beamed and said with delight, "A bare-handed martial artist, even knowing I'm watching, you can still openly display your skills. Is it because of your confidence?"

"...No, it's because if I limit myself to this, I can't beat you."

Kuroki looked at Musashi with a focused gaze. “Miyamoto Musashi, he lives up to his reputation… no, he is even stronger than the legends say!”

"legend……"

Upon hearing this, Musashi paused, then murmured softly, "For four hundred years, a legend about me has been passed down?"

I like it this way.

Musashi's face lit up with joy, and he looked at Kuroki with a smug expression. "Unarmed warrior, now that you know Miyamoto Musashi, do you still want to lift the rule that prohibits weapons?"

Kuroki shook his head. "No matter what the rules are, they are meaningless to Miyamoto Musashi. As the next generation, I know that very well."

Musashi asked in confusion, "The next generation?"

"You are the next generation of the 'sword-wielding era' that Miyamoto Musashi lived in."

Kuroki said in a deep voice, "When the era of sword fighting came to an end, the era of hand-to-hand combat began and has continued to evolve to this day."

"In the age of swords, defeat meant death."

"But in this era of unarmed combat, victory or defeat is not determined by strength or weakness."

Kuroki's gaze turned serious. "The reason is very simple—I, Kuroki Gensai, as the next generation, want to compete with Miyamoto Musashi."

"As for rules, they have nothing to do with the competition!"

"..."

Upon hearing this, Musashi's expression returned to calm and became somewhat serious.

But when he recalled what he had seen and heard that day, he couldn't help but smile, "Here, there were not only spectators filling every seat, but also so many skilled fighters."

"In that case, even if I play every day, it'll be fine...!"

As he spoke, Musashi's tiger-like eyes locked onto Kuroki, and his aura surged erratically, distorting Musashi into a demonic figure!

Musashi took a half-step with his right foot towards Kuroki, and surprisingly, he exuded a demonic fighting spirit, just like a raging fire.

"Even now...it's okay..."

"..."

Upon seeing this, Kuroki's expression remained unchanged. He leaned forward on his right side, touched the ground with his right toes, and planted his left foot firmly on the ground.

He lowered his center of gravity and raised his arms, adopting a "cat-like" stance, ready for battle!

A battle seemed imminent.

But at that moment, Musashi pursed his lips, and his demonic fighting spirit vanished without a trace.

Musashi put his hands on his hips and smiled helplessly, "But as expected, we still have to go to the field to fight, right?"

"Um..."

Kuroki paused for a moment, then nodded in agreement and put away his stance.

The next moment—

Sa!

Musashi suddenly stomped his feet on the ground, pulled back the scabbard with his left hand, and lightly gripped the hilt with his right hand, completing the drawing of his sword in an instant.

The movements were incredibly fluid and unrestrained, even producing a pleasant buzzing sound.

Clang—!

The cold gleam of the treasured sword "National Tiger" flashed, and Musashi controlled it, spinning it vertically in a large circle in front of him, its tip sweeping across the passages above, below, left, and right.

Click!

The gleaming, cold light of the blade, like a semi-transparent mirror, appeared for only a brief moment before the blade was sheathed, and everything returned to normal.

In fact, nothing was destroyed.

But upon closer inspection, one can see a distinct "color boundary" faintly visible around the entire corridor, both vertically and horizontally.

The rising smoke and dust, which should have been one piece, were now also divided into two pieces!

If I had to describe it—

Ah! That "circle" must have been cut open by something, right?

That's roughly the feeling.

It didn't cause any real damage, but it gave the impression that the slash had been completed, cutting the entire corridor in two!

Even the smoke and dust, even the "visual color," felt like they were being cut.

This is Miyamoto Musashi's slash!

"Hmm~!"

Musashi remained expressionless. After the sword strike was completed, he turned and left.

Behind him, Kuroki remained motionless.

He had already realized that Musashi had no intention of attacking, so he neither dodged nor evaded, but his gaze grew increasingly heavy as he marveled at the level of skill achieved by that single strike.

Is this Miyamoto Musashi's show of force?

Or perhaps it was a gesture of gratitude for watching someone practice?

Gensai Kuroki could not provide an answer.

At the same time, Musashi, who had turned to leave, had a smile playing on his lips, though no one noticed the strange smirk about him.

What a vibrant and endearing unarmed martial artist...

……

……

Meanwhile, in the players' lounge.

Katahara Metsudo watched from the sidelines.

Meanwhile, the fifth-generation "Fang of Destroyed Hall," Kanou, is warming up with someone in a battle.

His partner was the fourth-generation "Fang of Destroyer," another master among Katahara Destroyer's protectors—Wang Senzheng.

He was a burly man with medium-length hair and a side-swept fringe. He was proficient in various practical martial arts, had rich experience, and had a good relationship with his junior, Gana.

Snap... Snap bang bang...!

The two exchanged blows, their fists and feet flying back and forth, until their muscles gradually warmed up.

Meanwhile, Wang Sen was also analyzing the situation for Ghana.

“Ghana, your fighting style and Shiraki Cheng’s fighting style have some similarities.”