Shoko could not give her a direct answer, but she showed her the structural differences between blood types and samples of mixed blood. Only then did Maki Zenin truly understand how delicate blood was, and how even a trace of foreign matter could affect the body or even cause death. The key to defeating Noritoshi Kamo was simple and absolute: do not get any blood on her.
From the very start of the fight, she never relaxed. The fierce attacks that Noritoshi Kamo barely avoided were actually her holding back, and the seemingly condescending taunts were further observation, even at the cost of not pressing her advantage. What if he deliberately scattered blood?
Both Satoru Gojo and Yuta Okkotsu had warned her to be careful of a JO-style attack that used blood to blind the eyes. She did not know what JO meant, but that did not stop her from preparing. With targeted strategies against known Cursed Technique and complete defenses against blood as a medium, the outcome had been decided before the fight even began, especially since Noritoshi Kamo had already been crushed once by Yuta Okkotsu.
No matter how hard Noritoshi Kamo tried, he could not touch even the corner of Maki Zenin’s clothes, while she struck him again and again with precision. Even though Blood Manipulation could greatly suppress injuries through blood control, it could not withstand her repeated attacks. Each exchange pushed him closer to collapse.
“Give up.”
When Maki Zenin revealed the hidden weapons and grappling hook she had prepared, showing that she did not need to get close and could still finish him faster than he could react, Noritoshi Kamo finally broke. Pale-faced and struggling, he forced out two words. “I give up.”
Maki Zenin turned and left without looking back at Noritoshi Kamo. Having been bullied plenty since childhood, she knew best that a proud person did not need comfort at this moment, but time alone to lick their wounds. This was the last dignity Maki Zenin gave Noritoshi Kamo.
She took out the earpiece again and put it on. “It’s over, I won.”
“I knew you could do it, and now only one thing remains.”
On the other end of the radio, Akira smiled at the phone screen. “Little Sha, that’s enough. End everything.”
“Sha.”
At the center of the screen, Gardevoir gently waved her green palm. In the distance, two battered but still furious muscular men were trading blows with wild intensity.
They had lost count of how many injuries they had inflicted on each other. After separating again, they roared and charged, using their run-up to swing heavy punches at each other’s faces. Neither defended, as if they would not stop until the other was beaten beyond recognition.
Just before their fists crossed, a white dress fluttered into place between them. The two men instinctively tried to pull back, only to find their bodies completely unresponsive. They could not advance, retreat, strike, or withdraw, as if stuck in a swamp of hardened glue.
“You are-?” “Akira’s-?”
Kinji Hakari and Aoi Todo clearly recognized Gardevoir. While marveling at her strange power, they looked at the phone floating in midair, held up by her.
On the other end, Akira tossed the shattered remains of a Cursed Spirit high into the air. A black shadow flashed, and black claws passed cleanly through the last shell of the Cursed Spirit, smashing it completely. Then it opened its mouth and swallowed everything, leaving not a trace behind.
Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.
Only Darkrai could make use of trash so thoroughly. After finishing, Akira spoke calmly. “It’s over. If you are not done fighting, save it for tomorrow’s individual matches.”
“Like I care about you!” “Tomorrow has tomorrow’s opponents. My soul is still screaming!”
As expected of muscle-bound fighters, even their replies matched. As they spoke, Cursed Energy surged, showing signs of breaking free from Gardevoir’s Psychic Power, proving why Satoru Gojo held them in such high regard. Unfortunately, they had not reached Special Grade level, and were still no match for Gardevoir.
Consider that even the newly born Darkrai and Pancham had grown to this point. There was no way Gardevoir, the favorite of Akira, would lag behind. “Psychic Power!”
The upgraded Psychic Power bound them again. It was only because the two second-year students were so tough that they could even remain standing, as weaker opponents would have collapsed instantly.
“If you want to settle things privately later, that’s your business. But this is a team battle right now, and even for appearances, cooperate with me. I don’t want extra trouble, and if you are unhappy, come find me after the match.”
People differed in temperament. Some could be reasoned with, and others required force. Aoi Todo and Kinji Hakari were clearly the latter.
They exchanged a glance, then looked at Gardevoir shining with powerful psychic light, and knew it was pointless to resist. “Women are fearsome,” Aoi Todo said, getting started again. “Looks like I have one more person I want to challenge.”
“Your Pokemon are really something else,” Kinji Hakari said, focusing on a different point. “After the Goodwill Event ends, we should have a proper exchange.”
“You’re welcome,” Akira replied calmly. “Everyone, withdraw and celebrate. This brilliant victory belongs to us.”
“There is no enemy ahead of us!”
Fifteen minutes later, all participants from Kyoto and Tokyo gathered in front of the teaching building at Tokyo Jujutsu High and lined up by school. The two sides stood facing each other in clear formations. The contrast between them was obvious at a glance.
Kyoto Jujutsu High stood neatly, but their condition was poor. Some were injured, others looked drained, and a few even wore expressions of doubt about their own choices. Their overall spirit was visibly low.
By comparison, Tokyo Jujutsu High looked loose and unstructured, yet everyone was in great shape. Only Kinji Hakari was injured, and even his clothes were barely disturbed. Most of the wear and tear was on Yuta Okkotsu, since he had done the most work and taken the greatest pressure.
As for Kinji Hakari, who fought the hardest, he and Aoi Todo had both taken off their shirts before the match and went at each other bare-handed. It was a straightforward brawl from start to finish. The one who looked the most relaxed was Akira, whose clothes and hair were perfectly intact as he casually held Gardevoir by the hand.
Anyone who did not know better might think he had come on a sightseeing trip. The sharp contrast was irritating enough that even Masamichi Yaga, who rarely interfered with student affairs, could not help speaking up. “Isn’t this a bit too much? At least leave them some dignity. No matter what, we are sister schools.”
“I did leave some,” Akira said innocently. With his free hand, he pointed at the scale, then pointed at Aoi Todo. His expression made it sound perfectly reasonable.
Although Aoi Todo was the hardest opponent in Kyoto Jujutsu High, if Akira had wanted to, he absolutely had the ability to knock him out. In the current Japan, aside from Satoru Gojo, no one could withstand Akira and Yuta Okkotsu working together. The reason he did not do that was partly because he admired Aoi Todo for not siding with the higher-ups, and partly out of respect for strength.
In a way, Aoi Todo and Akira were the same kind of people. Both had fought their way out from piles of Cursed Spirit. There was also a third reason, which counted as an old tradition from China.
In sports like table tennis, it was common to completely dominate an opponent but still deliberately give them two points. If you did not, the coach would scold you, and even legendary players like Wang Nan and Zhang Yining had been criticized for this. It was a strange rule, but a deeply ingrained one.
“That’s not what I meant by holding back. You might as well not have done it at all,” Masamichi Yaga said, rubbing his temples. On top of that, he still had to wear Sunglasses. He finally realized that although Akira looked steady and easygoing, deep down he was just as unhinged as Satoru Gojo, which explained why they got along so well.
