My next week was filled with training and eating. A whole load of both.
The Wind and Hope headquarters had a private gym, where I pounded punching bags to work my cardio.
It also had a weight room where I lifted to my hearts content. Since there were no weight classes in AOTG, I didn't have to fear putting on a few extra kilograms of muscle.
I only left the building to go on runs. The gym had a treadmill, but nothing matched the rush of fresh air whipping across my face as I weaved through Jenton's city streets.
I stuck to obscure routes to avoid attention. My newfound fame was getting out of hand.
"Is that Red Breaker, the jiu-jitsu practitioner?" a passerby whispered.
"There's the AOTG fighter. The one who snapped that Muay Thai prodigy's ankle!"
"I heard he was barely a prodigy. Word is his dad pulled strings to get him in, and he's already been replaced."
"I can't wait to see who he's fighting next. Some real demons have entered the organisation too."
The notoriety was fun at first, but it quickly turned irritating.
Reporters started tailing me with cameras, asking the same questions over and over again.
I had to threaten to break their legs to get some peace, but that only fed a narrative that pissed me off: the idea that I was a jiu-jitsu fighter.
Of my 143 street fights, I'd barely used heel hooks. I didn't even know the term until Haruki mentioned it. Against Vagat, it was just the perfect counter to a Muay Thai striker who had only ever fought against other strikers.
From that moment, I vowed my next fight would end with strikes... only if it was possible, of course. I wasn't about to throw a win for something so petty, though.
One encounter made me pause mid-run.
"Yo, Red!" a voice called as I jogged through a park near my old apartment.
At first, I wondered who'd managed to find me in such a discreet location.
Then I saw him, and it all made sense.
I stopped, sweat dripping from my brow, eyes wide. "No fucking way… Leo?"
A young man leaned against a tree, hands in the pockets of a black jacket. His blonde hair was cropped short, and a cool, unshakable smile played on his lips.
Unlike the last time I saw him, Leo was massive. His muscular frame so broad it seemed he was wider than he was tall!
"In the flesh," Leo said, pulling me into a bear hug. "Got out a few weeks ago. Had a feeling I'd find you here."
When I first became the Delinquent Killer, I wasn't alone. It was me, Leo, and another friend who fled the country after Leo got arrested. They'd been caught in a crime unrelated to our bully-hunting; something I stayed clear of.
Leo served a short sentence while I carried on, earning the Delinquent Killer title solo.
"You've gotten huge, man," I said, eyeing his bulk. "What were they feeding you in there?"
He laughed. "Slop, then more slop. Weight training did the rest. I'm a beast now."
His eyes then sharpened, like he knew something I didn't. "So, you're in the AOTG too, huh?"
I froze, stunned. Too?
"You're a fighter?" I managed, still processing.
"You think I'd miss something this big?" Leo grinned. "You know I love fighting. When a company approached me about it, I couldn't resist."
He wasn't lying. Leo loved fighting, maybe even more than me. With his new muscle and time spent in the brutal world of prison, I could only imagine the monster he had become.
I didn't need to ask if he'd won his first bout; the answer was obvious. I had never seen Leo lose a fight.
I raised my fists, grinning, shuffling across the warm grass like a boxer. The park was empty.
"How about it? Wanna spar? You're not the only one who's gotten stronger."
For a moment, I saw it in Leo's eyes: The hunger to test me. But after a pause, he shook his head.
"We'll get our chance in the arena soon enough," he said with a wink. "Let's not spoil the surprise."
He was right. We'd likely clash in the AOTG, and it wouldn't be our first fight. But I felt no anger towards him, only a thrill.
A familiar rival in the tournament was something to look forward to.
Afterwards we grabbed food together, avoiding AOTG talk and reminiscing about old days. Times when we travelled Jepon, smashing delinquents into the dirt.
As the sun started to set, we parted ways, no bad blood, just the spark of a newly formed rivalry.
On the walk home, my blood surged with anticipation. I was itching to know my next opponent.
Luckily, when I got back, Haruki summoned me to his office. My luck had come through.
---
I stood before Haruki, who puffed on a cigarette behind his desk. Asuna was fetching me a glass of water, as I'd asked.
Our relationship hadn't changed much over the week. There were minimal words between us, only speaking when I needed her help. This was mainly due to her nerves whenever we were near each other.
I think she felt bad for doubting me before my first fight.
I downed the water as Haruki slid his tablet toward me, his expression unreadable.
---
Second Round Matchups:
Red Takahen, Wind and Hope
VS
Zivan Aslanov, Beers & Bears
Location: Mokyo Ring
Time: 1:00 PM
---
My eyes flicked to Haruki, searching for a reaction, but his face gave nothing away.
"Zivan… that's not a Jeponese name," I said, unfamiliar with the fighter.
Haruki exhaled a cloud of smoke, watching it drift into the air. "That's because he's not Jeponese. He's Rusvenian."
"What's he like?" I pressed, expecting more information. "Do we know anything about him?"
Haruki hesitated, his gaze lingering on the fading smoke. Then, his voice dropped, heavy with warning.
"This… this is an impossible fight for you to win, Red."