Chapter Forty-Six: Exhaustion of the Heart and Arrival

After a night filled with surging undercurrents, mysterious damage appeared in many places across the luxurious cruise ship. The faint scent of fresh blood still lingered, and dark red stains stubbornly refused to be wiped away.

Yet whether they were combatants, their corporate sponsors, or even the ship’s servers carrying tea and water, all acted as if nothing had happened, waiting calmly for the ship to reach port.

“Good morning, Kyo. Did you not rest after your work? You look... are you injured?”

Saeko, dressed in her casual uniform and carrying a wooden sword, knocked on Kyo Hakudo’s cabin door. Last night, after escorting Shion Kazuryuin and her secretary Tomoko Matsuda back to their rooms—and dispatching a few opportunistic fighters along the way—she noticed Kyo’s door tightly shut and returned to her own cabin to rest.

It wasn’t until her biological clock woke her for morning exercises that she saw him again. Sweat traced rivulets over her firm, voluptuous skin, lending her a sheen as lustrous as oil. The tight curves of her body pressed against her clothes, and her violet hair danced in the sea breeze, making her resemble a purple rose blooming on the ocean—seductive, full-bodied, and spirited.

But when Kyo opened the door, the air was immediately thick with murderous intent, so intense it bordered on madness, spilling from his crimson-lit eyes. His face was pale, his hair disheveled...

Kyo had never cared much for health regimens, but long years of martial arts training had remolded his body in the image of a true fighter. On top of that, both the “Dragon Blood Secret Art” from the world of immortal warriors and the “Nen” from the hunter’s universe had further refined his constitution.

So this wan, haggard look—ordinarily just the mark of a sleepless night—was something Saeko had never seen on him before. In her memory, her junior was always brimming with energy. If he appeared like this, injury was the only explanation.

Her hands, smooth as lamb-fat jade and with well-defined joints, gripped the specially crafted wooden sword until it creaked.

“We haven’t docked yet. Who hurt you? Let me—”

“Calm down. You’re losing your composure, Saeko.” Kyo’s pale face was stern as he interrupted the anxious beauty. “This isn’t an injury. It’s mental exhaustion. I’ll be fine by tomorrow.”

The terror that had seized Kyo’s heart last night had shaken him to his core. It was as if, deep in the ocean’s darkness, a world-devouring maw had silently surfaced behind him. That indescribable feeling of helplessness and fear nearly tore his spirit apart.

Neither the “Dragon Blood Secret Art” nor Nen could dispel a terror rooted so deep within. Such things become inner demons, karmic obstacles.

Yet even when extraordinary powers failed, eight years of unbroken training did not abandon him. The will and tenacity forged by the martial path surged up just as he teetered on the brink of collapse.

“If you suffer a defeat and feel fear, don’t hesitate—not for a second! Go back and face it immediately! For if you let fear take root, you’ll lose your edge, your skills—everything! Remember this, Kyo! For us martial artists, fear brings decay, and decay will inevitably lead to defeat!”

Master Takemoto’s voice, always tinged with a bit of static over the phone, echoed in his mind, those words etched into his very soul.

“Go back… face it,” he murmured.

Unconsciously, Kyo crushed his phone in his grip as he forced himself to recall that terror which had breached his heart’s defenses—once, twice, three times… His fists clenched so tightly that his nails dug into his flesh. The surge of fear chemicals in his brain was like a crashing tide, sending him into muscle spasms and vomiting.

Yet amidst the filth and the convulsions that wracked his body, a strange calm began to return. His vacant, helpless eyes regained focus. His Nen, scattered by shattered conviction, reformed as it was before. His hands grew strong again, and with neither joy nor sorrow, he began to clean his room and himself.

In this ordeal of self-inflicted suffering, Kyo came to a profound realization:

—The power to conquer inner demons does not come from extraordinary abilities. It comes from a heart tempered by struggle.

And so, in the morning sunlight on the sea, the youth who stood before Saeko was haggard, yet more resilient than ever.

~~~~~~

“Whooo—”

The cruise ship’s horn sounded a romantic call across the waves, evoking the spirit of adventure. Fighters and their corporate sponsors had already gathered in small groups at the disembarkation ramp, ready to register for the tournament as soon as they stepped ashore.

Saeko linked her arm through Kyo’s, standing in an inconspicuous corner. Behind them was Taijiro Zayanaga, still looking dazed and muddle-headed.

With some of his vitality restored, Kyo scanned the crowd with keen interest. By chance, he spotted familiar faces—Ohma Tokita, accompanied by Kazuo Yamashita and Kaede Akiyama. Ohma looked eager for a fight; Akiyama, in her business attire that somehow managed to exude a playful allure, was tense but composed. Only the elderly Yamashita, whose air of complexity was unmistakable, was drenched in sweat and on high alert.

“Honored guests of the Kengan Association, after a long journey, welcome to—Gantoryu Island!” the ship’s intercom announced.

Yamashita, already nervous, swallowed hard. But the next moment stunned all who expected the descent into a path of carnage upon disembarking.

“Please relax and wash away the fatigue of your travels!”

The hatch opened, revealing beaches, bikinis, and exuberant bodies frolicking before their eyes.

Was this truly the Kengan Annihilation Tournament?

The fighters, brimming with energy and desire, didn’t hesitate to change into casual wear and hurl themselves into the sea of bouncing hips and swaying breasts! Even those who weren’t interested found themselves caught up in the atmosphere, joining in beach volleyball, barbecues, and other amusements.

“Whew! Wow!” Shion Kazuryuin, cigarette in hand, whistled in excitement as she took in the sight of muscular men surrounded by bikini-clad women. Her secretary, Tomoko Matsuda, was so overwhelmed by the scene that her legs nearly gave out beneath her.

Saeko, still holding onto Kyo’s arm, briskly walked past the two, as if eager to disassociate herself from them. Yet, passing by her friend, she couldn’t resist teasing her with a reminder.

“Don’t get so excited you faint!”

“I would never be so pathetic!” Shion retorted, casting a disdainful glance at her secretary, who was already sporting a nosebleed. For the intensely fujoshi secretary, the sight of so many handsome, muscular men horsing around together must have been nothing short of paradise.