Chapter 134: The Second Round (Subscription Requested)

The battle with Takeshi Wakatsuki was simple, brutal, and thoroughly exhilarating.

Those enhanced with Godzilla cells possessed a base level of physical strength that, at the very least, matched the performance of the test subjects seen on the surface. That is to say, they could take a direct hit from anti-materiel armor-piercing rounds at point-blank range, with the projectiles leaving nothing more than a finger-sized hole in their bodies. For Tokita Ohma, who had begun to perceive the world around him as fragile, such a physique offered a long-lost sensation of solidity.

Under the oppressive pressure of Ohma’s presence and his ability to restrain the beast-like arm with a single hand, Wakatsuki’s expression quickly turned ferocious. The fighting instinct of a Titan was flooding back into his body. It was no longer a matter of Wakatsuki trying to stop a potentially rampaging Ohma; it was now a matter of Ohma suppressing a rampaging Wakatsuki.

"ROAR!"

A mere war cry, born of lost reason, could unleash a tangible, visible shockwave. Traces of bestial transformation were rapidly spreading from the shoulder where Wakatsuki had received the graft across his entire body. A monster, significantly larger than the Raian Kure seen moments ago, now stood within the isolation chamber.

Wakatsuki’s digitigrade feet kicked into the ground, causing the reinforced metal floor to buckle and pile up like soft soil. A sharp, massive atmospheric shockwave echoed through the chamber. In an instant, Wakatsuki’s fist—having burst through his own skin and sprouted jagged spikes—was inches from Ohma’s face. His beastly, vertical pupils were filled with cruelty and murderous intent, as if he could hardly wait to see blood flow like a river.

But...

"Lack of reason leads to a lack of technique. If you could manage to use 'Blast Core,' that would actually be interesting," Ohma thought, silently evaluating the iron fist before him.

*Snap!* A distinct, crisp sound rang out.

*Niko Style: Rakshasa’s Palm.*

With just two fingers, he tapped lightly against the jagged, spike-covered knuckles of Wakatsuki’s fist. Even without reason or technique, that fist had the power to punch through ten-centimeter-thick steel plating, and those spikes were capable of shearing through specialty alloys. Yet, in the blink of an eye, it was as if dough had been shoved into a roller—the entire limb twisted into a single mass. Fragments of spikes, shattered bone, and pulped flesh were ground together. Blood sprayed everywhere.

"Is that... a martial art?! Old man! He’s using martial arts after the surgery!" Katsumi Orochi gaped, staring at the combat through the observation window.

To cripple an opponent’s entire arm with just two fingers—this was not merely martial arts; it was a deeply sophisticated and rare technique. Even if martial artists possessed mental fortitude far beyond the average human after the modification surgery, the bestial nature within the Godzilla flesh would incessantly assault and influence their minds. Katsumi himself, post-surgery, found even the basic straight punch of his Karate, which should have been ingrained in his very bones, to be rough and clumsy. He could not believe any martial artist could still employ such technique in this mental state.

Beside him, however, Doppo Orochi—whose robust physique evoked the image of a "wild boar"—did not respond to his son’s words. A smile of anticipation played on his lips as he continued to watch the fight.

Inside the chamber, the sharp pain caused the cruel, wild beast-eyes to constrict suddenly. But it wasn't over. The hand that had struck with two fingers turned, gripping the now-mangled, beast-transformed arm. Then, his other hand, which had been hanging naturally at his side, suddenly blurred into a mass of shadows moving at invisible speeds.

*Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!*

The sound of the air breaking trailed half a beat behind the movements themselves. In the blink of an eye, three depressions appeared on Wakatsuki’s blue-gray skin where the palm strikes had landed: the side of his neck, the base of his ear, and his temple. All three were locations dense with nerves and blood vessels. The shockwaves and sonic booms from the intense force erupted from the other side of Wakatsuki’s head, shaking the very air.

His terrifying pupils rolled upward uncontrollably. However, the physical enhancement from the Titan would not allow him to be stunned or downed by such a minor impact. His eyes rolled back, even more ferocious than before. His long, whip-like tail sliced through the air, creating water-like ripples as it struck covertly at Ohma.

But Ohma’s hand, which had delivered the palm strikes, seemed to have been waiting on the tail’s path all along. With a *thwack*, he grabbed the very tip of the tail—the point of maximum power.

"Have you forgotten how to even hide your intentions, Wakatsuki?"

Ohma’s smile was friendly; the usual good-natured Takeshi Wakatsuki would likely have appreciated it. But now, with his bestial nature dominating his brain, he just wanted to smash that damn smiling face into oblivion!

"ROAR!"

With a savage yell, Wakatsuki pulled his mangled arm, ignoring the ruined connection of flesh and bone, and tore it free from Ohma’s grip. Though the brute force cost him about a kilogram of flesh from his arm, he had successfully broken the hold.

Then, he threw a punch!

Twisting his waist and swinging his body, the tail—which functioned as an extension of his spine—dragged Ohma’s body along with it because the boy still held its tip. As Ohma’s center of gravity shifted involuntarily, he glanced at Wakatsuki’s face, which now resembled a monster's more than a human's. But what flickered within those eye sockets was not the mindless cruelty of a beast—it was the malice of a human!

*Blast Core: Reverse Thrust!*

Taking advantage of the moment his opponent was thrown off balance by the tail, he stepped forward, integrating the muscles of his entire body into a straight punch. Suppression, then... explosion!

Wakatsuki, who had possessed fifty-two times the muscle density of a normal human before the surgery, had received an equal share of the Titan’s energy into every single muscle fiber after the procedure. In other words... in terms of raw power, this was a heavy blow fifty-two times stronger than that of an ordinary enhanced subject!

It felt as if the air in the entire room had been sucked out by this single punch. Even the minute gaps in the integrated metal room, created by the previous fighting, began to whistle with a shrill, piercing shriek as the fist’s wind pressure violently drew in the outside air.

In some areas of the room, the air could not flow quickly enough, creating a vacuum! The fist, wrapped in massive currents of air, headed straight for Ohma’s face.

"What are you smiling at, you bastard?! Die and be shattered!"

Despite being hoarse and sharp, it was no longer a beast’s roar—it was human language. Facing a punch whose wind pressure alone was enough to nearly tear the room apart, Ohma’s expression remained unchanged.

"You’ve learned a little something. In that case..."

The human palm met the monster’s fist head-on.

"Experiment success."

*Niko Style: Weeping Willow.*

"What?!"

Following the boy’s declaration and the shock in the beast-eyes, Ohma moved as easily as if he were nudging a toy train off its tracks. The direction of the fist was twisted straight toward the gate.

*BOOM!*

"Get out of the way!"

The three people watching at the door were no amateurs. Including Kureha Mitsuyo, who had regained his senses, all three immediately dodged. As the fist collided with the heavy gate, the thick metal door warped and twisted instantly.

For the sake of stability, the gate had been connected to the entire frame of the room, forming a stress-dissipating structure. Even so, Wakatsuki’s fist tore the frame apart and warped the structure of the room. The fist, carrying the ten-centimeter-thick steel door panel—the size of a man—punched through into the research lab beyond and tumbled onto the floor of the underground space.

The deafening roar, echoing through the entire underground facility, brought the United States soldiers running. They surrounded Kureha’s lab, circle after circle, swallowing hard in nervousness.

In the dust rolling across the floor, Wakatsuki—now back to human form and completely naked—lay atop the steel door panel. He stared in disbelief at the arm that had just been mangled.

"I... I recovered. So fast! And..." He tried clenching his fist, his eyes widening. "My whole body has become stronger! Even better than the effects of my training!"

"So," Ohma said, sauntering out of the room through the dust and sitting on the steps. A sarcastic, friendly smile played on his face. "It seems you really haven't fought with everything you had since the transplant. You’re such a fool, Wakatsuki."

"Unlike your master." The boy sitting on the steps lifted his gaze to look behind him, a wry smile on his face. "Master Orochi, you knew this all along, didn't you?"

In the dust behind Ohma, a massive, human-shaped shadow slowly stepped forward.