Whitewash High: Rising Sun Ch. 15

"We need you to get into a rage. We need more magic like last time."

"Point me in the direction of their top officer and I'll make it happen, Daisuke. I don't know these guys from shit."

Daisuke dodged a punch, countering with an uppercut of his own to send an opponent flying.

"There!" he pointed through the crowd. "That guy. Toriyama."

The man Daisuke pointed out held his own, picking off Nagoyan soldiers one at a time as if his hands were sniper rifles. Quick, efficient thrusts at painful pressure points knocked down foes. Nik immediately knew an officer like that would force them to retreat. Grabbing the nearest enemy, he thrust his knee forward, tenderizing the man's stomach wall. This gave Nik enough room to make his challenge.

"Toriyama! Fight me!"

Toriyama's ears caught Nik's booming voice. He glanced over to see the gaijin's hulking form, breathing heavily.

"Bold words. You best one of us and you think you can take me on now? Once I crush you, your shit family will run away like cowards."

The rank and file heard the proclamations but continued fighting. They were too entrenched to stop. Both sides were at a breaking point after a half an hour of brutal fisticuffs. Both men walked towards the other, tossing friend and foe alike out of the way. A small opening allowed them both to charge the other. Nik lunged forward to spear Toriyama but tripped on a fallen man's outstretched leg, eating shit on the ground. This allowed Toriyama to kick Nik in the ribs, sending him rolling away in pain.

"Don't run, gaijin, fight me," he laughed.

As he went to wind up another kick, Nik repositioned to catch it. Holding onto the leg for dear life, and grunting in pain from pressure point attacks along his shoulders, he lifted Toriyama up in the air as he got to his feet. Toriyama let out a surprised scream as Nik whipped him onto the ground, back first.

"Ouch, fuck," Nik said, hurting like hell.

He tried lifting his left arm but the pressure point attacks pinched the nerve. It hung there impotently, useless until the nerve corrected itself.

"Ha, all brute force and no technique," Toriyama gasped out, getting to his feet. "You Nagoyan punks are so weak you need to import fourth-rate foreigners to fill your ranks."

The taunts did not bother Nik's ego but he knew any of his allies could be affected by the barbs. The pain clouded his thoughts though, unable to reply with a witty comeback of his own.

"I still have more in the tank, pal. You'll have to do more than some ninja shit to make me quit."

Straightening himself up, bluster and bravado were his only weapons until his arm felt better. Toriyama was not the speech making type though, not giving the enemy any time to rest and recover. He jumped forward with a flying knee, barely missing Nik's jaw, but the mid-air back kick hit the target.

Backing up and rubbing his chest, Nik saw Daisuke bravely cornered with a handful of men.

"Now or never. Suck it up. Eat the pain," Nik thought to himself.

Not waiting for Toriyama's follow through, he led with his right hand, jabbing away to keep the officer off-balance. Nik accepted a punch to the face for his strategy but it left a golden opening. Gritting his teeth, he let out a loud cry and launched his left first upwards. The pain felt like the arm ejected from the shoulder socket but he held true, putting Barbaydas's training into action.

In his arrogance, Toriyama never saw the left uppercut coming, knocking him cold on his feet. The man collapsed to his knees then fell forward in the dirt. The Osakan soldiers fighting around the pair saw their leader defeated. Their resolve shattered as word spread throughout the battle arena. Once the first wave of broken troops fled to the darkness, Daisuke rallied Nagoyan troops near him to press forward. Just like that, the dominoes fell and the Yamato clan won the battle.

From afar, sitting atop a rock, the fancy man from earlier watched the events with a pair of binoculars. He smirked, intrigued by Nik's technique and raw power. Everything about him was raw. No finesse. No style. A lumbering tank that ate shells until its more powerful cannon blasted a hole through its target.

A man stood next to the rock, a phone in his hand, waiting.

"Shall I call in reinforcements, sir?"

"Don't bother. I'm not interested in fighting my new brother tonight. Soon, but not tonight," the fancy man replied.

"But sir, if we lose here then the boss will get angry. He put a special prize on the line," the subordinate informed.

"I care little about flesh peddling. I'll take all the blame. Worry not about your position, it'll remain intact."

"I don't understand, sir, in their current state we could defeat them easily right now with the few of us here in reserve."

"I want him better. If I'm to test my new brother, I want him experienced before putting him to the sword. Weakness won't quench its thirst. It needs a bold flavor."

"Yes, sir," the subordinate replied. "I'll phone the boss and inform him we lost the position."

The fancy man did not lower the binoculars during the entire conversation. He watched Nik, studied him, etched the Muramune into his mind. Every irezumi held meaning, a soul, created and sustained through the user's actions. That was what he believed. Seeing a new portrait gave him pleasant chills, especially seeing it before much of the design got filled in.

"Yes, I can see it, brother, the darkness you carry. Is that why you rage so quickly?" he spoke to himself. "How many bodies will you need to stand upon to reach your revenge? An ambitious man would not build a foundation with the material you chose. I can see why you were given this honor."

"Sir..."

"What is it?"

"The boss ordered you to see him once the rumble is officially over."

"Understood. Anything else?"

"Nothing."

"I've learned all I can here too. I'll treat you gentlemen to some food before I go receive my punishment," the fancy man stated, hopping off the rock.

X

"Sir, report from Denzel's sector. Mass retreats from the Osakan forces. They've abandoned the position," an officer told Musashi.

Musashi, Ryuji, and a few handpicked officers were stationed in a neutral zone with other members of the alliance, as well as their Osakan counterparts. Call it a dual-command center where both sides received reports of the night's progress and made their countermoves.

"How the hell did he beat the Highlander?" Ryuji whispered to Musashi.

"I'm guessing the angry reply moments ago tells me he never fought him. Sounds like something happened," Musashi whispered back.

"Looks like you got lucky, Yamato-san," an older gentleman in a fine suit stated, walking up to the pair. "That foreign bull you found managed to beat some of my best."

"I'm sure your men put up a strong fight, and I'll have an expensive hospital bill to pay come the morning," Musashi replied, remaining cordial.

"A deal is a deal. I have one small request," the older gentleman asked.

"What would that be?"

"I know the kind of films you're making with him. Be a little...kinder...with her. Ruining her image in one movie won't do any of us good in the long run."

"Popularity is a fickle beast, Hara-san. It is a simple talent swap, not a declaration of war. Maybe if this proves lucrative, we can open talks about another crossover in the future," Musashi answered, diplomatically.

"I'm happy to hear you've got a keen business sense, Yamato-san. Have one of your associates send the details to mine. Now, if you'll excuse me, there is more of the rumble to conduct."

Outside of ear shot, Ryuji leaned back towards Musashi to speak.

"He took that better than expected."

"He thinks he is using us and not the other way around. Our guy is a hot commodity on film, and if anyone was going to break her foreign cherry, he is a better catch than most," Musashi replied.

"I'll go check-in with the other families to see how they are making out."

Musashi nodded. Nik did good for him. Even if the other areas were putting up more fight, winning this bet made everything flush.