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"Don't think that just because you pretended your karate skills aren't strong and lured Horikoshi into underestimating you, using such petty tricks to defeat him, that makes you amazing."
"Now, I'll show you that in the face of an overwhelming difference in strength, these little clever tricks are useless."
"Watch closely. Today, I'm going to teach you how real karate combat is fought—so many people beg me to teach them, but I can't even be bothered."
Sano Kazunari assumed a righteous tone, acting like a senior mentor teaching a junior. He acted as if coaching Fujiwara Tooru in practical karate was beneath him, something he would only do out of sheer generosity.
However, in reality, this too was a tactic meant to throw his opponent off guard with his attitude. Sano Kazunari only ever became truly serious about karate when it mattered most, regardless of the circumstances.
At this moment, he was completely focused.
In many martial arts techniques, there are methods of influencing opponents through loud shouts while simultaneously building up one's own energy.
Sano Kazunari claimed he was giving guidance, but in truth, he was fully serious. His feet moved swiftly, not giving Fujiwara Tooru any time to react. He leaped high into the air and brought his hand down like a blade toward Fujiwara's shoulder.
Of course, he didn't dare to actually cut Fujiwara's major artery—that would be fatal. But this strike would definitely make the boy cry out in pain. It wouldn't be pleasant for anyone who wasn't prepared.
At the critical moment, Fujiwara Tooru raised his left arm, blocking the powerful strike with ease by positioning it horizontally across his body.
"This Fujiwara guy still lacks experience. How could he let the president launch such a deadly move right from the start? This isn't good!"
"But wait, didn't the president hold back? That hand strike would've made most people scream in agony already. Anyone with a slightly weaker constitution might've had their humerus fractured. It seems the president still showed restraint."
The members of the karate club watching nearby shook their heads, convinced that Fujiwara Tooru's victory over Horikoshi Gaku must have been due to some trickery.
In karate matches, how could someone allow their opponent to execute such a killing move unless they were overwhelmingly superior?
But who was their president? He was the man who only lost to Kyogoku Shin in last year's national karate tournament. Kyogoku Shin was the champion last year, so rounding things off, their president should at least be considered the runner-up, right?
Only Sano Kazunari felt a jolt of surprise internally. He knew exactly whether or not he had held back. And precisely because of this, seeing Fujiwara Tooru effortlessly block his deadly strike with just his left arm left him astonished.
"Good. I've heard that the Uechi-ryu style focuses heavily on training tendons and bones. Fujiwara, it seems you've truly mastered the essence of Uechi-ryu."
Sano Kazunari quickly found an excuse and justification for himself. He refused to believe that Fujiwara Tooru's karate skills surpassed his own. Instead, he concocted a plausible explanation that even he believed.
There were countless styles of karate, and Uechi-ryu was known for its heritage of White Tiger Fist, which placed great emphasis on tendon conditioning. Thus, the reason his hand strike hadn't caused much damage was simply because Fujiwara's tendons were exceptionally strong.
He immediately switched tactics, launching a quick punch toward Fujiwara Tooru, moving like lightning.
His punches and kicks thundered through the air, each strike resonating with a booming sound that sent shivers down spectators' spines.
This top-eight finalist from the national karate tournament was no joke. His combat prowess was undeniable. If an ordinary person stood here, they'd have been battered senseless long ago, teetering between life and death.
At Sano Kazunari's level, even seven or eight burly men couldn't get close to him. He was an absolute master of karate, honing his skills for years.
"Tooru made a mistake earlier. The president's hand strike was powerful, but the motion was too rigid."
"If he couldn't block it, it could've been a one-hit knockout. But since he did block it, Tooru should've seized the opportunity to counterattack while the president was off balance."
"Now that he missed the chance, how can he possibly counter against the president's swift punches and kicks? He's throwing away opportunities left and right!"
Several high-ranking members of the karate club nodded sagely, critiquing the match.
Sano Kazunari's movements were almost too fast to follow with the naked eye, showcasing the full extent of karate's striking techniques.
Meanwhile, Fujiwara Tooru kept retreating, narrowly dodging each attack by mere millimeters. The gusts of wind from the strikes made his collar flutter, making the situation look perilous.
"Tooru must not have watched the president's matches. This is his signature rapid offense. Last year, during the national karate tournament, the president used this exact strategy to defeat numerous experts and secure his place among the top eight."
"If it weren't for encountering Kyogoku Shin, that monster, the president could've ranked even higher."
"The competitors in the national tournament are all top-tier fighters, including many foreign masters. When facing the president's attacks, their best option was usually to dodge as much as possible and wear him down."
"Little did they know that anyone thinking like that ended up badly. It would've been better to engage in direct combat with the president. Even if they lost, they'd still walk away with honor. Tooru's current struggle is nothing more than a desperate attempt."
"You're right. His defeat is inevitable. Constantly dodging and defending will eventually expose a flaw. Kyogoku Shin defeated the president by countering his aggression with even fiercer strikes."
"Still, Tooru's pretty impressive. Not many people can make the president take them seriously. At least none of us in the club have seen him use this level of intensity during practice."
The club members chatted casually, unsurprised by the outcome. From their perspective, Sano Kazunari clearly had the upper hand. At their level, they couldn't see any issues with the fight.
Only Sano Kazunari was shocked. Though it appeared that Fujiwara Tooru's dodges were fraught with danger, it was precisely this calmness under pressure that revealed his true skill.
No matter how lucky someone might be, dodging consecutive strikes by such narrow margins wasn't luck—it was absolute strength!
Could this guy actually be stronger than me?
The thought barely crossed Sano Kazunari's mind before he dismissed it outright. How could it be? Some unknown nobody, unheard of in international karate tournaments or world championships, surpassing him? Impossible!
Blinded by rage, Sano Kazunari let out a fierce shout. Using his left leg as a pivot, he spun 360 degrees and launched a devastating kick aimed at Fujiwara Tooru. His leg cut through the air like a massive blade, exuding immense pressure.
However, in high-level martial arts battles, moves like this were highly risky. Unless one had complete confidence, such techniques could easily backfire.
At that moment, Fujiwara Tooru, who had retreated near the edge of the mat, countered with a precise hand strike, landing directly on Sano Kazunari's vulnerable spot.
The intense pain forced Sano Kazunari to cry out, his balance faltering.
Seizing the opportunity, Fujiwara Tooru stepped forward with a swift kick, hitting Sano Kazunari squarely in the chest and sending him flying backward.
It was a signature move of Bruce Lee, the founder of Jeet Kune Do!
Sano Kazunari flew through the air like a flailing frog, spinning mid-air before crashing to the ground.
Clutching his chest, the sharp pain made it hard for him to breathe.
Fortunately, years of karate training had given him a high tolerance for impact; otherwise, that single kick could've shattered every rib in his body.
Even so, the force of the blow left him struggling to stand.
As Sano Kazunari tried to steady his breathing, a shadow loomed over him like a demon incarnate—Fujiwara Tooru.
Grabbing him by the back, Fujiwara lifted Sano into the air, tossing him upward. His hands blurred into a flurry of strikes, reminiscent of Bruce Lee's rapid-fire attacks.
Finally, with another 360-degree spin, Fujiwara used the very technique Sano had intended to defeat him with—a powerful kick that slammed him against the wall!
A dull thud echoed as Sano Kazunari slid down the wall, nearly unconscious. All around him, the karate club members gasped in shock, and some female students began to sob in fear.
Out of the corner of his eye, Sano saw the terrifying shadow descending once more. Fujiwara's hand strike grazed past his ear, cutting deep into the wall behind him, leaving a jagged crack.
If that strike had landed on a person, it would've been fatal.
Cold sweat poured down Sano's face as he swallowed involuntarily.
He stared at Fujiwara Tooru, who calmly retracted his hand and brushed off his clothes. For a moment, it felt like he was reliving last year's karate tournament, standing face-to-face with Kyogoku Shin, that monstrous opponent.
This level of physical prowess, this overwhelming power—it was something he'd only ever witnessed in Kyogoku Shin during his decades-long karate career.
When Kyogoku Shin first emerged, he created a nearly insurmountable gap between himself and other karate masters. He single-handedly raised the ceiling of what was possible in karate.
And now, standing before him once again, was another monstrous figure capable of rivaling Kyogoku Shin—a true terror.
"Club President..."
"Sano-senpai, are you alright?"
Several members of the karate club rushed forward to check on him. They had genuinely feared that Fujiwara Tooru might kill Sano.
Those who had previously declared Fujiwara's defeat inevitable now stood frozen in disbelief.
What had just happened? They hadn't seen anything.
In the blink of an eye, Fujiwara Tooru unleashed a terrifying assault that overwhelmed Sano Kazunari, securing his victory instantly. Now, he was delivering his victory speech.
Sano Kazunari sat slumped on the ground.
He had lost. In the art he prided himself on most, he had been defeated so easily, like a child being bullied by an adult.
Looking around, he realized that if he continued to protest now, he'd only become a laughingstock.
Though reluctant, he dared not utter another word of defiance.
Earlier, he had hoped to provoke Fujiwara into attacking so he could counter. Now, he was terrified that Fujiwara might attack again and finish him off.
Gritting his teeth, he swallowed his humiliation and murmured, "Thank you for holding back."
Sano knew that if Fujiwara had gone all out, his ribs would've been shattered, and his internal organs ruptured.
Taking a deep breath to suppress the searing pain in his chest, he asked hesitantly, "That kick... was it Jeet Kune Do?"
Fujiwara's stance bore the unmistakable mark of Bruce Lee's iconic style, making the connection obvious.
"Jeet Kune Do," Fujiwara explained, "isn't just a set of techniques. It's a philosophy, a mindset akin to water adapting to its surroundings. Whether it's karate, judo, or aikido, they all share fundamental principles when traced back to their roots."
"The human body is structured in a certain way. Every technique is essentially a method of applying force without violating that structure."
"Different martial arts may emphasize different approaches—some focus on aggressive offense, others on counterattacks—but in actual combat, everyone ultimately practices free-style fighting."
"In life-or-death situations, who cares whether it's karate or Jeet Kune Do? The goal is simply to defeat your opponent."
"If you have a gun, you can adapt and use gun-fighting techniques. So there's no need to obsess over whether my moves earlier were karate or Jeet Kune Do. Fundamentally, they're the same."
Sano fell silent for a moment before coughing twice and saying, "You're right. Thank you for the lesson. I've been too fixated on the idea of 'pure' karate."
Though Sano didn't fully agree with Fujiwara's words, he was the loser. Having been defeated, whatever Fujiwara said became truth, correct by default.
Any rebuttal on his part would only make him seem petty and resentful.
Fujiwara nodded at him, then suddenly slapped him across the face. Before Sano could react, Fujiwara said coldly, "That's for running your mouth earlier."
With that, he turned to leave.
Sano's face flushed with shame and anger, but remembering Fujiwara's strength, he clenched his teeth and shouted hoarsely, "Fujiwara Tooru!"
Fujiwara stopped and turned his head.
Sano took a deep breath and said, "I want you to join the karate club. Come to activities whenever you feel like it—or don't, it doesn't matter."
"I'll be a senior next year, so I won't be club president anymore. I hope you'll take over as president then!"
Fujiwara studied Sano's expression carefully. He saw no trace of ulterior motives—only sincerity.
Nodding, he replied, "Sure. I don't mind having my name listed in the karate club. As for being president, we'll see."
Sano pressed further, "Are you planning to participate in this year's national karate tournament?"
"Aren't there rank requirements for entering karate tournaments? I don't have a rank."
"The University of Tokyo has the authority to recommend participants, and my family does too. I can arrange a spot for you if you're willing to compete. It's not a problem."
Fujiwara tilted his head curiously. "Why are you so eager for me to enter the karate tournament?"
Sano answered earnestly, "I want to see you fight Kyogoku Shin. I've fought him, and I've fought you today. If anyone can defeat Kyogoku Shin in karate, it's you!"
His words caused a stir among the other karate club members. They knew Fujiwara was strong—strong enough to easily defeat their president—but they never imagined he might be on par with Kyogoku Shin.
Fujiwara thought for a moment, then smiled. "Alright. If you can help me with the registration process, I wouldn't mind meeting Kyogoku Shin."
Though Fujiwara didn't actively seek fame, he wouldn't reject it either. Greater renown would benefit his future political ambitions.
"I've got somewhere to be, so I'll take my leave," he said, heading toward the locker room.
Yukinoshita Yang'ao hesitated for a moment before following him.
Sano Kazunari touched the crack in the wall beside his ear and sucked in a sharp breath. That guy was truly terrifying.
With the help of others, he stood up, clutching his chest. "Can someone help me get to the hospital? Damn, that kid hits hard."
"I have no idea where this guy came from, but his strength is ridiculous. Aside from Kyogoku Shin, he's the second person I've ever truly respected."