"Attacking a student without warning? At least say something before throwing a punch."
Ayanokoji Kiyotaka stared at the teacher standing before him, his face blank. The man had lunged at him without so much as a word, now holding a combat stance as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
But instead of responding, Mochigase launched forward again. This time, his elbow slashed through the air, aiming straight for Kiyotaka's face.
Without hesitation, Ayanokoji let go of his stance and leaned back, narrowly dodging the strike. His toes barely touched the ground before he sprang backward, creating distance.
He had entered the battlefield his opponent had chosen.
But that was fine.
Because he wanted this, too.
Ayanokoji Kiyotaka could already guess why Mochigase picked this location.
The KTV box had excellent soundproofing—perfect for concealing a fight. No one would casually check other rooms, ensuring their battle remained private.
More importantly, the confined space played to Mochigase's strengths.
Pencak Silat.A martial art originating from the Indo-Malaysian archipelago, relying on the elbows as both offensive and defensive weapons. The elbow, one of the hardest bones in the body, could shatter fists and withstand powerful blows, allowing for brutal close-quarters combat.
But it had a glaring weakness.
Its range was short—half an arm's length at most. In an open field, an opponent could keep their distance and whittle him down.
Here, in this cramped room? That wasn't an option.
"Don't be like that," Mochigase said, rolling his shoulders. "I only attacked because I knew you'd dodge in time. Otherwise, I'd be disappointed."
He stepped forward, closing the distance as the soundproof door slid shut behind him.
Ayanokoji Kiyotaka shrugged. It was a backhanded compliment, but he'd accept it.
"Are you going to tell me why you dragged me here?"
"You must be wondering why I suddenly brought you here and attacked you…" Mochigase trailed off, shifting into a fighting stance. "I'll explain—after you beat me."
"I see."
Ayanokoji's voice was calm, but his mind was already piecing things together.
He had sensed something off the moment Mochigase cracked the wall during class. A teacher with that level of strength had no business being in a high school.
So why was he here?
Countless possibilities ran through Ayanokoji's mind, most discarded in an instant.
Then, he noticed a flaw.
He had spent his entire life under surveillance in the White Room. Even through cameras, he could tell when he was being watched.
Mochigase was skilled—exceptionally so—but he had underestimated Ayanokoji Kiyotaka.
The way he acted before bringing him here, the subtle shifts in his demeanor…
'Is he someone sent by my father?'
Ayanokoji Kiyotaka took a deep breath and shifted into a stance.
And in that moment, Mochigase felt something change.
Ayanokoji was usually forgettable, unremarkable. He didn't talk much, and when he did, his social skills were… lacking.
But the instant he entered combat mode—he became something else entirely.
Not just quiet.
Dead silent.
Powerful people carried presence. An office worker standing next to a bodybuilder would naturally make space for him. It was an unspoken law.
But Ayanokoji…
It was like he ceased to exist.
Had Mochigase not been watching him closely, he might have believed the room was empty.
It was more unnerving than someone screaming before a fight.
Without a word, Ayanokoji Kiyotaka stepped forward.
He's coming.
Mochigase instinctively lowered his stance, adjusting his center of gravity. He was heavier—he needed to control the pace of the fight.
Then, Kiyotaka moved.
A straight punch.
Fast. Silent. Precise.
Mochigase reacted instantly, raising his elbow to block. The impact sent a dull shock through his arm.
Something was off.
That touch…
A feint?!
Realizing his mistake, Mochigase's gaze flicked to Kiyotaka's left hand.
No change.
…No.
His eyes widened in realization.
Too late.
A claw-like strike slashed upward from below, fingers tightening at the last moment to concentrate the force.
A precise, controlled impact.
Mochigase's arm jerked as a sharp jolt ran through his nerves. His sleeve wrinkled from the force, but there was no tear—only a sudden numbness spreading from the point of contact.
He stiffened for half a second.
Kiyotaka didn't waste such an opportunity.
Diving forward, he stepped in close, hands shifting into a grappling position.
Mochigase's pupils shrank.
If this were a normal fight, he'd answer with a crushing elbow to the cervical spine. That would end it.
But not this time.
His earlier miscalculation had thrown him off balance—his weight was shifting backward. He had no angle to strike with full power.
This is bad.
He was about to get grappled.
A single mistake had set off a chain reaction.
But if Ayanokoji Kiyotaka thought he had already won—
He was dead wrong.
Mochigase's eyes darkened.
Leaning back even further, he twisted his body and unleashed a devastating elbow strike—one aimed right behind him.
Would it land?
Or had he already lost?
----
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