Out on the streets. [T|P]

[Deleted]

{{OOC: Still using this as a training thread even though the comp's done.}}

[Enter]

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[Deleted]

CONSIDER THIS LAST HURRAH
THE COUP DE GRÂCE!
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[/center]Roll With the Punches
Rank: "B"
Skill: TaiJutsu
Effect: The user is able to roll with the punches, and not take as much damage that should have been delivered.
Special: ---
Drawback: Does not work on Slashing, Piercing attacks, or attacks that are not solidified, that hits in a mass amount, this technique does not work against NinJutsus.
Description: The user has become quite good at handling hits and taking them, they have now trained themselves to roll with their opponents punches as they come to them. By moving their body with the direction of their punch they are able to dodge or take less damage from the hit. When they are hit they go along with the punch or kick to take less damage. Whenever someone would attack bluntly with punching, kicking like techniques, or anything that is blunt like techniques the user sways with the direction of the attack as the attack becomes deafened, the attack becomes lighter, giving less harm towards the Brawler. When the user learns this technique the opponent's techniques become one rank less powerful then it is initially used. This technique does not work against NinJutsus as it only works on Bludgeoning, and Blunt TaiJutsu techniques.
Limit: Must be a Brawler

❖ 16 || 80 ❖

My eyes flickered briefly around the open circle the daily crowd had left in the street, scrutinizing it for signs of movement. In that brief second I just couldn’t make him out anywhere but then – SHIT!

He was crouched just below me, bunched down so that I’d just missed his position when I’d furtively scanned the area. He was stretched across the pavement, one massive, burly arm pointing upwards toward my chin, lowered to the ground and then heaved upwards in a jaw-breaking uppercut. I had enough time to make out the grin before the fist blocked it from view, and suddenly I was in very real danger of being launched ten feet into the air.

Relax, I told myself, and I did. Keeping with the current art I was practicing, I decided I didn’t need to avoid getting hit, just dull the blow enough that it wasn’t a massive danger to me. I could have dodged, probably, but well now, that just wasn’t sporting. I almost felt like this guy was actually going along with what I was trying to do, but that probably just represented the fact that I was in control of the fight, right?

The hand rose towards my chin, seeming to move way too slow, and I had a brief moment of equilibrium in which I judged the exact trajectory, based on his hand, arm, the long, sideways stance, his posture, my own… all these calculations sort of instinctively registered in my mind, forming a rough map of the hit inside my head till I knew the exact counter-manoeuvre – no, that wasn’t right. It was the exact equal manoeuvre, one that fit together with his likes pieces of a puzzle –

And the fist hit my face. Shit, I wasn’t ready! I tried to tilt my head back, equating the move with my entire posture… almost falling backwards, surrendering myself to the blow but at the same time destroying it. What was that, passive-aggressive? The energy flowed through me, I could feel every node that it was crushing – mainly my mouth, shit it hurt – till I was at one with the hit. Well, that was what was supposed to happen.

The idea was rendering the upwards force useless, but because I hadn’t readied myself quick enough it didn’t work entirely, and the impact still buckled my jaw, popping me upwards till my stance was uncertain and I staggered backwards, knocking into the rail on the opposite side of the street I had come in. I leaned on it briefly, regaining myself, shaking my head and testing my jaw before pushing back off the metal beam and only just catching a quick look at the smug black guy before he turned and vanished once more.

I propped my stance up, held my fists in front of my face, and scanned for him with my eyes again. This time, I would be far more successful. And maybe I’d try combining the theory with a bit of proper blocking.

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❖ ? || 80 ❖

So the general idea of this practice match – at least, to me it was a practice – was to equalize the outward pressure of a punch, kick or just general blow by simply moving with it. I’d already seen – no, felt – it proven, but I guessed that was just beginners luck because now I’d received a solid uppercut to the chin and my jaw really fucking hurt. I was going to be bruised all over by the time this was over, I could just fuckin’ see it right now.

Before I’d had a chance to really wonder where my sparring partner – again, no he was actually trying to beat the shit out of me I just looked at him that way – was going to appear again he already had, this time materializing – got no fuckin’ idea how he does that, he just does – at my right side, taking a few paces in an arc around to my location and using all his forward momentum to aim a high haymaker at my face.

That was pretty standard stuff by now. I couldn’t just let it hit my head, no matter how good I was with this whole passive blocking thing. So as I watched him move in, judging his trajectory and all those technical terms that I’m not going to list every goddamned time, I once again judged a correspondent forced enactment of the blow that I would perform just a little before the impact actually hit, dulling it considerably.

But a new factor in this particular exchange was the fact that I needed to actually block, not just completely expose myself and hope for the best. That was only the proper course of action that wouldn’t land me six feet under. So I crossed my arms, turning my whole body to face him and raised an X-shaped block in front of my face, with a little gap so I could see him between my arms, and prepped myself for my leading reaction to his attack.

I aligned everything about his approach in his head as quickly as I could, frantically calculating everything until the last moment and then -

His blow came, and at the last second I pulled away, timing it a little better this time so that the hit was just a little over-extended. As well as that there was the fact that it hit at the wrong point. All these constituents meant that his attack had very little of its original power, and the lack of resistance meant that he couldn’t really dig in anyhow. Still, my arms thunked under even the remaining dregs of his power and strength as his blow reached me, and my arms pretty much split apart as he hit them. I still staggered backwards a little, but I retained my footing and had enough time to look him in the eye – he looked impressed, annoyingly - before he vanished from sight. Strange, he was a whole lot faster than before.

Had he been playing me those times I’d beaten him? No, surely I’d just been trying to hit him back and had succeeded in doing so. Still, it was irksome. And I had to be on the lookout for his reappearance. It would be only milliseconds.

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❖ ?? || 80 ❖

So once again the hulking dude I was fighting had launched himself into hyperspeed. I guessed it was some sort of Shunshin technique – shit, I should learn more of that later, it was just so cool – and I surveyed the area around me for any flicker of movement.

“You’re improving.” Said a voice casually, from behind me.

My eyes widened in shock and fright and I twisted around, but my enemy was simply standing at the edge of the crowd, who looked just as shocked as I was to see him there, only a few metres away. He was standing straight as an arrow, his massive arms crossed, a small smile on his face. His tone was cool and calculating. I hated it. “Yeah.” I spat back, “And I’m going to outstrip you by even more if you don’t watch it.”

Invariably, he would seem only more amused by my remark. “You’re still not ready, however.” He said as if I hadn’t responded. I growled at him but – oh shit no, now it was just empty air. I wheeled around once again in shock – fuck it was so FAST – and heard a voice that was way closer to my blind side than it should have been. “You’re still far too slow!”

I turned to the direction of the voice, and found him once again speeding toward me at a horrifying pace, his entire body hunched over, his usual attacking fist winded up just behind his hip, probably to shove into my gut as soon as he got close enough. But if he could just whiz around me like nobody’s business, why didn’t he just smash me to a pulp before I had a chance to turn around? And what the fuck was all that shit about being ready?

In any case, the blow was coming, and once again I had to force myself to remain calm and estimate his movements – no, judge them I told myself – till I knew exactly where his attack would be. He wasn’t leaned down far enough that he would be attempting a rise, and his forward posture would stop or at least severely hinder any kicks or lower-body attacks. No, he was aiming for my gullet. That much was certain. I had to think about that area of me, really switch it on till I had complete and utter control over that section of me to the smallest detail. The motivation for this was otherwise, you’re going to endure a fuckton of hurt.

My senses primed, I once again tried to imagine a course of action. The problem here was that my gut was a rather central position where my body was concerned, and moving it without adversely affecting my balance was difficult. It would mean exposing myself to further attack, but in the end I’d just have to double over to avoid – no, dull - his strike. As I gazed at his rapidly approaching form, I tried to imagine the whole exchange, playing through it a million times, concentrating on every minute detail, lowering myself slightly in my stance –

And then as his attack got close enough I sucked in my stomach, slid backwards across the floor slightly and almost bent over – yeah, it was a little comical, maybe, but I was willing to risk it – in my attempts to equate my own movements to his adverse strike. I was becoming one with it, rather than opposing it. When you pushed the world, it pushed back equally, right? So if I just didn’t push back when he did, would that mean there was no force? …Shit, that’s too deep for me. I just knew it didn’t hurt as much when I moved early.

And move early I did. The process was much the same, just more awkward because he was aiming at a central point. His attack was a little overextended, but I got the feeling he was compensating for what he knew I was trying to do – so he wasn’t just an oaf. I’d pretty much figured that on my own though – and adjusted his strikes accordingly. Goddamn, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to do that. But anyway, the hit was still painful, digging into my gut but maybe not finding as much purchase as my enemy would have liked because of my accepting, flowing movement.

It was kind of hippy in a way, not fighting back just letting them come but taking no offense no matter what they did to you. Passive, I guess. Wasn’t usually my thing but it would be a useful ability to have if I ever really, really needed to take a hit in battle.

I staggered back again, my gut not really feeling like it had been physically punched but not really like it had been left along either, and predictably the guy disappeared. I quickly tried to right myself in time for his next appearance – add my gut to the list of owch areas – but this time, well, I wasn’t in time.

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❖ || 80 ❖

The follow-up attack was immediate and vicious. I tried to right myself in time, straighten out my posture and just generally collect myself before he attacked again but he seemed to almost be speeding up, equating his own speed to that of my reactions. And I was always just a little too slow.

His next attack began as he tore out of view in a brief flicker of space, reappearing some few meters away from me and dead ahead. Well that was odd, I had time enough to think, why would he stop? He just sort of halted there, posing in that infuriatingly nonchalant stance, face impassive, but he was so statuesque it didn’t even look like he was breathing.

Oh fuck me.

The real him came from my left, ripping across the open ground like a jet, and I realized as my gaze flashed up to meet him that the idle one was an after image because of just how incredibly fast he moved. There wasn’t time to block, or dodge, but hey, that was the whole point of this exercise right? His fist was hefted over his right shoulder, eyes mad with the violence of the moment, and at the last second his foot crunched into the dirt, he pushed backwards even further, and then he swung his massive fist at my face.

I’d felt the full impact of one of his blows on my face before and I did not want to feel it again. I guess I’d just have to settle for a halved impact. Life sucks.

I didn’t move my body at all to indicate the calculations going through my mind; they were a little faster now, a little more instinctive, the way I lined up his posture and cross-referenced it with my own, the way I judged the path of his fist by his rapidly changing stance; I almost felt like a third part, analysing the events in slow-motion and scribbling massive and yet ridiculously simple calculations in the air. His whole arm was predictably going to be heaved over his shoulder, his haymaker coming down at an angle that would be just slightly going down as it reached my head, so I quickly braced my own body to enact the situation that would happen, altering the chain of events, fast forwarding one and blunting the other…

I turned my face at the last second, getting hit in the side of the head, feeling the blow approach my cheek as I turned and mimed the hit, moving fluently with it and tilting my whole body down and slightly away so that when the blow did catch, well, it didn’t quite, reducing the force. It was merely a brush compared to the brunt impact, but it was still a considerably jarring push. It felt more like an open-palm slap with my alterations in play. I moved with the attack, no resistance, softening my muscles and ensuring they didn’t tense, which supposedly decreased long-term damage. The whole thing was quite peaceful till the pain really struck.

I staggered away as the almost bullet-time like effect faded and my whole body was channelled with the blow, till I had to move with it and spin almost three-sixty with the shock. My hand went to my face as I twisted around, and I twisted my jaw experimentally. With the redirection of his attack, it hadn’t broken anything, I realized with relief. This was awesome. I was sure it was also infuriating for my opponent, who couldn’t land a full-on blow on me. Unless he sped up some more, I had to remind myself.

This time, as I turned to him, still clutching the side of my face, my adversary was still standing there, punch extended, looking amused. This whole kinetic energy thing was really working to my advantage, but I was still talking hits. I had to improve it somehow; I couldn’t keep this up much longer. “Not yet.” The dude said simply before disappearing once more.

I sighed. Here we go again.

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❖ ? || 80 ❖

I was beginning to get a little hazy, with all these blows landing on me. I didn’t know how much longer I could last. My technique had a solid theory; if you went with the flow of an attack, and furthermore, did it early, a hit could not retain all of its power. Problem was it could still retain enough to hurt like a bitch, and do some pretty serious damage in the process. Currently I counted my gut, shoulder, and head as major fucking OW points.

So what was wrong? Was I not performing the technique early enough? I would have thought any earlier and your adversary would just readjust his technique, but maybe that wasn’t entirely correct. Maybe it should just remain a last ditch and it wasn’t really possible to lose the impact of hits altogether. Yeah. Maybe I should start blocking attacks more and just combining this attack with it instead, like I’d already done once. It seemed to work then, why not now?

“Fight me head on you wimp.” I growled from gritted teeth, raising my arms in a ready position. I wanted to test how this would work in repetitious head-on combat. I knew he could hear me, and he’d never backed down from a challenge before.

Sure enough, he materialized a few metres directly in front of me, standing straight as an arrow and with his arms crossed perfectly in front of his chest. “As you wish.” He said simply, and then he raced forward, charging like a bull, his first punch already lifted above his head. I raised my arms, holding my forearms together, lithely side-stepping into the attack, but not as much as I usually would have. The punch would still hit me, but I’d attempt to glide it to my side with just a gentle nudge.

I braced myself as he came, waiting for that massive fist to crash into my arms. The punch wasn’t quite as heavy this time however, I analysed, and that meant he was planning on following up. That thought in mind, I came forward slightly and sort of pushed at the attack with my block, not really deflecting the attack so much as deflecting myself. I surrendered myself to gravity and let the force of the attacking arm push me away to the side, with my entire body gliding with its flow, causing it to almost entirely lose its power.

But I did not lower my block, which turned out to be a good move. My adversary pulled his fist back, twisting on his front foot and swinging a massive reverse-roundhouse kick at my gullet. The accepting manoeuvre I’d just performed, which I’d decided to dub Rolling With the Punches, meant that I was now right in line with the attack. His foot came strongly as I watched, estimating its power once more. It still wasn’t full-on enough to deaden further attacks with its follow-through, so I judged I could take the brunt of it without being inflicted too much damage.

I let it approach, actually managing to take a deep breath of focus, expelling the tension from my body before the kick hit. It helped me loosen, to concentrate, to simply submit to the attack and step back acceptingly as my block, now lowered, broke easily under the weight. I didn’t mind, I kept having to tell myself, and I stepped back with little stagger as the foot crashed into me and I managed to retain most of my balance. I let it break, it was intentional. With this passive-aggressive style I was fully controlling the tide of battle. Well, would you look at that. This peaceful approach was really starting to pay off; a block like that would usually have landed me a hit, but because I’d been prepared and stepped backwards I received no damage.

I had to keep on alert though, because the next attack was coming.

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❖ ?? || 80 ❖

The next attack was a little unorthodox, but that’s not to say it wasn’t predictable. I didn’t give him the satisfaction of a nice smushy target to really dig into and ricochet off, so he was left with little momentum with which to execute his next attack. Not only was my excessive glancing off of his attacks leaving his moves dealing no damage, it also meant that they became progressively weaker as he dished more out consecutively. The effectiveness of this simple alteration in battle was astounding.

But even though his physical drive had more or less died, my opponent would obstinately follow up a third time. It’s supposed to be the charm, right? Fuck no; I’d stop this one just as good. Guaranteed.

The third attack, after the basic failure of the reverse-spin heel-roundhouse kick, was a little awkward. After pulling his leg back – and I was watching the entire scenario closely, judging the built momentum of all his movements, trying to figure best how to pull away from them – he would spin back to his original forward stance, propping himself with the foot as he planted it, moving slightly in and swinging a short punch into my midsection; crude, but effective. With the short, close-to-body stoppage the power was immense. But he was inside my stance now, and this attack would be the ultimate test of this new ‘blocking’ style’s power-dulling quantity.

The attack came quickly, and I had only a short amount of time to scrutinize it. It was very short, barely moving past his body, and would launch me ten metres if I didn’t judge it right. I let my block disintegrate, knowing it would be useless in this situation. As I scanned the attack, I let my body relax, willing the tension away, turning my entire body into a living pillow. Then at the last second, I performed the most complicated take on this technique yet.

As the attack was just about to hit, I actually tilted back on my heels, shutting my eyes to the world. I was falling for those tiny milliseconds, embracing gravity, letting it control me, moving further away from the attack, till the angle was all screwed up, and then as I felt the punch compress my gut, I let my chi course through my body, keeping the limpness with me, the power flowing the wrong way. Yet I still felt it, shooting through every node of my body; every affected nerve, bone, and ligament. I concentrated immensely hard, body letting these points relax and dousing them with raw chi as my entire form lit from the inside like a flare of mystical energy.

And then, with all the power exerted from my enemy’s attack, I made it my own, utilizing it literally to my advantage as I took it and infused it with my chi. My eyes still closed, I let my chi truly ignite, fusing it to the gravity around me, and then I was shooting backwards across the planes of reality, almost tearing through reality with the combined force of my opponent’s energy and my own. I had activated the Shunshin at the last moment to nullify my enemy’s damage output and simply used it as a get-away method.

Surely that was the pinnacle of equilibrium and passive-aggressive philosophy. Or something, fuck that was too deep for me. With the ultimate peace I had in those moments, it seemed only natural that I touched down from my flight with complete confidence and surefootedness. I opened my eyes slowly, letting my senses readjust and re-orientate themselves after the subspace flight, and witnessed my adversary staring at me with something that bordered on shock. I was immensely pleased. For once I had the upper hand.

“Your attacks don’t work on me anymore.” I said with a grin, and lowered myself into my stance one more time.

“Let us test that one final time.” The black man said, standing up and smiling equally, though in a manner far less snide. One more time he disappeared, but it was so completely instantaneous that I didn’t even understand he’d vanished for a moment.

Oh shit, I was so in for it now. I could just tell.

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❖ || 80 ❖

As it turns out, I was totally right too. There was only one possible explanation to this inexplicable and constant acceleration of my opponent’s base speed; he was simply holding out on me, unwilling to show his true potential or simply thinking it unfitting for the situation. Which meant that he was slowing down purposely… which meant either he was toying with me, or actually trying to educate me… Like he was acting the part of my mentor or something. Bullshit, I had no master; I was learning this crap on my own. But it seems now I’d actually pissed this guy off, because he moved so fast before my eyes that it took me a second to realize he’d even gone, and by that time it was too late.

He was in under my guard before I knew what had happened, and had uppercutted me so hard in the gut so hard and fast that I had no time to apply my newest blocking method; I literally flew ten feet in the air, soaring up with the force of it. I was so out of it for a moment that I was fully tensed and completely unaware of what was going on around me, apart from the fact that there was no ground beneath my feet. As I regained my senses, I realized I was actually almost vertical in mid-air. I tried not to fall over backwards; I needed to land properly. But as it turned out that was the least of my concerns.

Straight ahead of me my foe materialized, ominously what I estimated was around about ten meters. ”Let us test that one final time… did he mean, mid-air?

Yeah, no, that was exactly what he meant. After a small, malicious grin snuck up his left cheek, he disappeared once more, and I could almost see him tearing through the air toward my gut, just preparing to dig into my stomach with the lord and master of all punches. For the umpteenth time, I couldn’t dodge, I couldn’t block, I had to simply rely on the zero-tension acceptance of this new technique I was practicing.

I knew he would appear soon enough, so as a preparatory measure I lifted my arms and flung them backward behind me, till they were extended as far as they would go. This created just enough backwards force that I knew I could use it to propel myself backwards if I made use of the elastic reaction.

I saw my enemy flicker into view a second before his punch hit, but it was enough. I swung my arms around in a massive arc, pushing the air away and moving me backwards a fraction. To add to that manoeuvre I hunched myself over, which was incredibly difficult to do while airborne, so my gullet was just an inch or so behind its original location. The punch was over-extended once again, leading to greatly reduced power, and because I was already moving in an identical direction, when it did hit, the power was severely blunted. Not to say that it didn’t hurt, but I took only a tiny degree of damage compared to what it would have been.

As I soared back to Earth, travelling at a speed that was a lot less than someone coming off a monstrous blow should have, and with a lot more focus too. I tried to imagine every node of the residual power in my body, getting a feel for the sensation, adjusting and relaxing my limbs so the power would flow out there rather than remaining inside my body to circle around and not cause any permanent damage.

All this energy expelled, I prepped myself for landing, compressing my entire body slightly and landing on both my feet at the same time in an almost picturesque touch-down. Surely this represented mastery, I thought to myself. My enemy hit the ground a few moments after I did, landing bent down, one hand upon an upright knee, the other lying across the ground. He looked up at me as he rose to his feet, and after one long moment, he began to clap.

“Well done.” He said, and this time there didn’t appear to be any sarcasm in his voice.

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[N A T S U M I]

+70; after one and a half fucking hours or reading eye-bleeder style!

[Deleted]

CONSIDER THIS LAST HURRAH
THE COUP DE GRÂCE!
◆◆◆◆

[/center]Deadly Blow
Rank: "B"
Skill: TaiJutsu
Effect: The Brawler is capable of striking an opponent with such strength, and such power to where a single punch is capable of knocking a man out, creating a concussion, or comma effect for the duration of the battle.
Special: ---
Drawback: The user is capable of using this technique only to the amount of times they are capable of using Tetsu Tekken (Iron Fist)
Description: A technique where the user hits the opponent with such force that they deliver a punch with enough force, and enough precision in subdual damage to where the opponent is knocked out unconscious with a single blow. The opponent stays down for a number of rounds before they are slowly brought out of their unconscious state. When using this technique the user sacrifices the knowledge of a Tetsu Tekken (Iron Fist) technique. Depending on the class of the user as well as the class of the opponent the Deadly Blow lasts for only so long within an amount of rounds.

* D Class - The Opponent is stunned for Two rounds
* C Class - The Opponent is stunned for Three rounds
* B Class - The Opponent is stunned for Four rounds
* A Class - The Opponent is stunned for Five rounds
* S Class - The Opponent is stunned for Six rounds


If the opponent is one class higher to that of the user then the amount of rounds is reduced by one round for "C" Class, Two rounds for "B" Class, Three rounds for "A" Class, and Four Rounds for "S" Class. If the opponent is two classes or higher then the reduction goes up by one. After three classes or more then the technique is uncapable of working against the opponent.
Limit: Must know Sutan Tekken (Stunning Fist)

❖ 0 || 80 ❖

That was the first time I think I’d ever gleaned actual praise from my usually inscrutable opponent. For some reason I actually felt a twinge of pride, probably because the person in question was usually incredibly impassive even while out for my blood. He stood erect as always before he vanished into a Shunshin, and vanish he did. My eyes lit up and I searched for his materialization point, but to my confusion, he did not reappear. I held my hands outward in an X-shaped block in front of my chest, sure this was just some trick, but at that moment a voice rang out over the street. Glancing around, I noticed that all the people that had previously crowded the place had fled. Well, that but a few people here and there.

“As I said, your defensive ability was most impressive.” The voice was unmistakeable; I swivelled one-eighty to look up and found him standing some ten meters above the street on a power-line, nonchalant as ever when he wasn’t trying to beat me to a pulp. My eyes narrowed as he spoke; I didn’t trust this would turn out well for me for even a second. “However,” – shit, called it – “I am interested to see how your offensive has improved. Or rather, whether it has at all.” He paused then, letting the announcement sink in, and even from as far away as I was I could practically feel the grin on his face. “I think you’ll enjoy this.”

Suddenly I was really suspicious. I looked around at the remaining crowds-people, and realized they didn’t look like your average grocery shoppers. They were all tall, well-muscled and sporting stupid grins. Oh shit, I had been played -pretty well too. I was completely surrounded by cronies once again, and I knew I’d have to floor each and every one of them to get out alive. I twisted and turned frantically, searching for openings, just a little panicked, but there were twelve of them, one for every angle on the clock.

“Get her!” The leader’s voice rang out, and they obeyed.

But one thing I had going for me was that, no matter how intelligent their boss was, these muscle-men were just that; all physical, no mental. So while they could have converged on me as a group and just pounded me as a team, they first looked around at one another, all hoping they wouldn’t be the first to move. The whole thing was rather comical, and I started to feel way more confident. Eventually I slid down into a lower stance, extended one arm and beckoned to one of the dudes just standing there idly, a cocky grin on my face. The effect was instantaneous and predictable. With a bloodthirsty roar, the thug came forward, no doubt with no real plan of action in mind other than pulverize. You know… if that word was even in his vocabulary.

In the end he just threw a formless punch at my face, which was the epitome of predictable, and I side-stepped easily. As he followed through unwillingly, obviously afraid now that he was at my mercy – and so he should be – I wondered idly what to do with him. Perhaps, just to prove my offensive strength, I’d pay him in kind. Only I’d actually connect. Watch out big guy, you’re goin’ down.

As he stumbled past me – well, that would have been the end result, as it was it just meant towards me – I swung my fist over my shoulder, heaving my entire body back in a monstrous round-up. I concentrated all my power into my fist, even lifting my front foot in the wind-up arc, till my whole body was set at about a forty-five degree angle. Then, holding that position for a moment, I heaved my entire body forward in a massive, gargantuan punch full of all the raw power I could muster.

It swung forward like a wrecking ball, actually whistling through the air as I planed my foot just in time to anchor all the raw force and send it smashing into my opponent’s face. The insane power of it send massive jolts down my arm, but the shock that my opponent received was slightly worse. I heard several cracks before he was almost lifted clean off the ground and flung backwards a good couple of metres across the pavement.

He landed with an almighty thud, spitting blood as he did so. I held my wrist, twisting it experimentally, before rolling my shoulder several times in a manner that was half to actually test for sprains or breaks and half to intimidate my remaining opponents. Giving the latter away was the massive, triumphant grin on my face. I felt on top of the world after a punch that hard.

But there was a stirring at my feet. I looked down, and to my incredulity the dude I thought I’d just wiped out was getting to his feet. I would have just smashed him a second time, if I wasn’t so shocked. He got up, his nose bleeding, to wipe the blood off his face, looking hapless and forlorn, but not at all unconscious. My triumphant expression dropped off my face, to be replaced by one of anger. Wiping the grime from his features, my opponent suddenly looked vengeful. He let loose another roar, his comrades jeering in the background, and once again he charged at me.

Fuck. Round two, I guess.

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[Deleted]

❖ ? || 80 ❖

Even though I thought for sure I’d floored this guy, he barely looked troubled by my attack. He’d righted himself after my haymaker to his head like it was a passing breeze. Well okay, no, but he was in pretty good shape considering I’d basically summoned all the power I could muster and dished it directly to his face. He was currently in the process of letting out what I bet he thought was a really scary roar, much the appreciation of his surrounding comrades. Done with that, he simply rushed at me again, obviously learning nothing. Guess I’d forgotten how physically strong these guys were.

They were still ridiculously moronic, however. Not adapting his strategy at all from his previous failure, the guy simply charged at me like a bull, both hands raised, probably trying to grab me or something. Unlike him, however, I would improve with trial and error. As he rushed at me head-on, I’d sidestep, this time to his opposing side just to outwit him and throw him off-balance that much more. It worked too, as I heard his stupid blustering as suddenly I was outside of his grabbing range. As he flew past me, I decided I had to drastically increase the power of my technique to knock him out cold.

Thus, as he moved parallel to me I actually pivoted away from him, till I was facing directly away from my opponent. In this position, I wound up my punch, swinging it around the side of my body, keeping my leading foot firmly anchored to the ground as I did so. I actually heart the grating of concrete against the soles of my shoes as I spun, pulling my fist back and creating as much elastic pressure as I could in that one movement.

Then, as I wound so far that I felt a satisfactory amount of power build-up, I utilized my back foot to kick off, spinning on my grounded foot and did a full one-eighty, swinging my punch, now even more massive and ridiculously powerful, around in a wide arc, whipping through the air with gargantuan strength and considerable speed, till I straightened the approach out just enough to send it cracking sickeningly into my opponent’s temple as he stumbled by.

The impact was incredibly rewarding. There was a large grunt as my opponent registered the impact, his whole body likely feeling the force of it for a nanosecond before he was flung back, actually being lifted into the air by the power of the punch, till he came back to earth a few meters from his launch point. I actually felt a ringing vibrato down my arm as I finished the punch, moving through it just a little too much – my opponent didn’t quite get the full power as a result – and feeling that disgusting jarring ache I always did after a massive impact. However my opponent had it much worse. I judged he was unconscious before he hit the ground.

I grinned, massaging my arm briefly and turning to my remaining party guests. “Who’s next?” I inquired happily.

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[N A T S U M I]

+20

[Deleted]

❖ 20 || 80 ❖

So after my second try at flooring one of the heavyweights in the vicinity, I’d actually succeeded. But that was completely and utterly unacceptable. Anything but a one-hundred percent success rate was sub-par, and would get me killed in a proper battle with actual fully skilled ninja. I figured maybe I was just stiff, and this position I currently found myself in wasn’t exactly safe besides. I needed to vastly increase my punching capabilities, and I needed to do it right now.

As my previous opponent was catapulted to the ground and knocked out cold, there was a small pause as everyone absorbed the shock of seeing a girl like me floor a colossal giant in only two hits. It was in this moment that I would try to loosen my muscles and get a better approach on my punching action. Hopefully after performing a few preparatory actions my hits would yield better results.

First I lifted my right arm aloft – the one I generally used to wallop people with – and placed my left hand at my right shoulder. I rolled it several times in what looked a little like chicken-wing motions, I supposed, but as I meditatively rolled my arm several times I could feel my muscles loosening in my arm, and I could almost sense it becoming more supple.

Next I simply dropped my arms altogether, letting them fall to my side, and I began slowly rotating them in this position instead. I closed my eyes while doing this, juicing the most from the relaxation of it. I kept an ear out for any approaching enemies, but I was fairly sure they wouldn’t be moving for at least a few more seconds after witnessing the fall of their comrade, and indeed I perceived nothing from them but shocked blustering in the background.

The last exercise was extremely simple and straightforward. To perform this motion I unveiled my oculi to the world, not really noticing the ring of bodies surrounding me at all angles roughly ten meters away. I’d simply lift my right arm – still a little sore from the jarring impact of being smashed into the skull of a blockhead – and, one again bracing it with my opposite hand, I pulled it back slowly in a wind-up motion, seeing just how far I could pull it before my muscles constricted too far and I was forced to release. For the final pull-back I pushed my limb back to it’s ultimate extent and actually held it there for a moment, arching my entire spine backwards a little with the motion.

Then I released it for he final time, and rose dramatically to stand tall. I closed my eyes for a moment, then simply pointed straight ahead at the guy at that point of the clock. “You.” I said aloud. “You’ll do.”

Then I lowered myself in my stance, my entire upper body feeling much more supple and unrestricted. Time to kick some serious ass.

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[Deleted]

❖ ? || 80 ❖

”You. You’ll do.”

I said aloud to the muscleman in front of me. Then I lowered myself in my stance, my entire upper body feeling much more supple and unrestricted. Time to kick some serious ass.

It seems I just had this inexplicable power to piss off anyone that I taunted, because all of a sudden he looked really mad, maybe just because of how peeved he was at my cockiness, or the fact that I’d caved in his fellow’s skull only moments ago. Fortunately in those moments I’d managed to squeeze in a quick stretching routine, and now I felt like I was that much faster and stronger. It was a good feeling, and as I grinned and waited for the inevitable headstrong charge from my foe, I tried to embrace that feeling of celerity and all-around improvement that came after a good stretch. I’d need as much strength behind my counter-attack as possible if I was going to beat these cronies.

But then something unexpected happened. I heard a low growl from behind me, which sounded strangely akin to one of my guttural hisses, and I looked over my shoulder to see that a second goon was firing himself up, almost directly opposite to the other enraged dude. This meant I’d be facing assaults from both angles, which would ramp the challenge up that much more. I turned back to the enemy ahead, and braced myself to stay exactly where I was and just take their attacks.

Haha, fuck that. As my first opponent himself raised his arms and looked about ready to charge, I beat him to it. With an almighty roar I would turn the tides and run full pelt at him, which judging by the way he stepped back in fright, totally threw him off. A malicious grin snuck up my cheek as I raced toward him, but I would not raise a blow or attack first. No, I’d leave that duty to him. And indeed, as I reached walloping range, my target took a quick swipe out if front of him while stepping back. However, I wouldn’t simply race directly into the punch, but skid to a halt just in front of his clumsy attack, and then prepare my own.

While my foe was slightly off-balance from his desperate swing, I crouched down slightly lower than usual, spreading my legs apart equally. I was turned so that I was almost side-on, my left leg way ahead of my right. I’d summon up the strength for a killer punch by bringing my right arm first past my stomach, and then twisting it even further, reaching back past my hip till I was fully extended, tweaking the pose at the last moment so that I was just a little out of my comfort zone when it came to my flexibility.

With this gargantuan wind-up in motion, I could feel all the power in my body centre on the focal point of my attacking arm, all my strength building up in it, till I gritted my teeth with the raw force of it. After an instant, as my opponent’s attack well and truly sailed by, I flung my hips forward, bringing the almighty blow around in a massive, wide arc, bypassing my opponent’s falling arm and, as I moved in, flowing up past his arm, his shoulder, and zooming in to crush his skull to itsy bitsy pieces.

Well, that was a bit of an exaggeration, but with the contact there was a definite smack that rang out across the street, I felt something sickeningly cave in under my knuckles, and my opponent staggered heavily away from the blow for only a couple of paces before slumping to the floor like a sack of potatoes. I drew my outstretched punch back – still going just a little too far beyond the impact point in the follow through – and gently massaged my knuckles for a moment.

Oh wait. There was another factor here: The dude behind me. I heard running footsteps and turned to face him. I felt that I’d inevitably be diagnosing him with a more or less equal dose of fist to the face.

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[Deleted]

❖ ?? || 80 ❖

Oh wait. There was another factor here: The dude behind me. I heard running footsteps and turned to face him. I felt that I’d inevitably be diagnosing him with a more or less equal dose of fist to the face.

Indeed, I saw – as I usually did with this species of unintelligent brute – complete indignation that their comrade had fallen, which quickly turned to boiling rage in their eyes as they turned to look at me. I actually rolled my eyes as I looked at him standing their, a stupid, fiery aura emanating from him. The two closest of the fallen dude’s comrades on either side of me just looked freakin’ scared - I assessed as I quickly turned my gaze to survey both of them - and I reckoned they’d just leave it up to their buddy to get floored next. That was the kind of cowardice I expected from these low-level cronies. I flicked my gaze up to check on the ringleader, just sorta chillin’ on his powerline throne. My lip curled in slight distaste and disappointment at this sort of indirect fighting, though beneath my high-collared coat I doubt he could see anything.

But look up, because suddenly the enraged guy was roaring and charging at me in that ridiculously cliché way that all dumbasses do when pissed off. After about two steps though, the fire of battle had spread to me, and I inevitably grinned in delight at this direct challenge. Without uttering a sound, however; I wasn’t a roaring, idiotic brute. We raced at each other like two rivals in for an epic clash. The encounter would be slightly less dramatic, however.

As I rushed forward, I swung my whole body around to the left, raising this fist above my head and gritting my teeth in a furious display. No use only being able to punch with only one side, right? When it came to combat, you had to be ambidextrous. Else you’d just get fucked over really quick. Admittedly I was probably slightly less skilled with my left side, but I had no doubt that I could beat this guy with it alone. I reared it up a good way, feeling the power and strength in the draw, holding it as steady as I could as I moved toward the guy, who was mirroring me, but at the last moment I was inevitably faster.

Predictably my foe completely mistimed his attack, so much so that he hadn’t even swung his attack by the time I had already whipped mine forward with incredible, bone-shattering force. I threw my blow at my opponent’s face with as much power as I could, giving it good length thanks to my massive wind-up. It struck my opponent in the nose with a massive crunching noise, and this time as I struck I tried to lock my arm in place to make sure all of the power was transferred completely and instantly. The result was just that my arm jolted a bit more on impact, causing me to recoil as I cannoned my opponent in the face.

He fell backwards, his nose spurting blood, and hit the hard ground with a thud. I clutched my arm for a moment, knowing that this pain was punishment for not properly thinking my attack through. I flicked my hand a little, scattering my unconscious enemy’s blood from my knuckles, and looked up with an expression of distaste on my face.

“Okay. Which one of you fuckers is next?”

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[.:Ryo:.]

+30

[Deleted]

❖ 50 || 80 ❖

“Okay. Which one of you fuckers is next?”

I spoke aloud, turning away from the third body I’d rendered unconscious in the past five minutes, maybe even less. There were still traces of my latest victim’s blood on my steel gauntlets. I was really riled up now, the adrenaline pumping through my veins, the gladiator within me baying for blood. I daresay I probably looked almost psychotically happy as I looked around at each of my remaining enemies, and I held my gloved fist up, clenching it and grating steel against steel as I slowly rotated, and then stopped. I was facing yet another of the imbeciles that were a part of my rival’s gang, and this one was particularly unlucky. I quickly glanced up to where the commander was perched. He’d squatted down on the powerline now, observing casually from above, and a couple of his recruits were looking really nervous now at the prospect of facing me. It usually took about three floored team-mates to invoke that reaction. But I wouldn’t stop at that meagre number. I’d deck every single dude here, so help me God.

Before I charged, I reflected briefly on my previous attack. As I’d connected, I had made the split-second decision to lock – in other words, tense – my arm in place at the last instant. The idea was that I wouldn’t waste any excess power and simply transfer all the force of my attack directly into my opponent. The result however was that my arm jarred under the pressure, and this I intended to change.

I didn’t waste time with too much preamble, since it seemed I wouldn’t be receiving an answer to my question, but simply gave a sidelong glance at a guy to my left, and spun on my heel, launching myself into a full-on charge in his direction. As I ran, I went over my plan of attack in my head. I’d have to focus rather intently on my arm, because I had to pick out the exact point of impact in order to tense my arm properly and juice all the damage I could from my attack. Other than that, it was a simple, straightforward plan. In other words, punch that fucker right in his noggin.

My opponent raised an X-hand arm in front of his face, but he wasn’t nearly quick enough. As I reached him, I pivoted on my heel and moved around to his right, completely bypassing his block. As I twirled I utilized the momentum produced from this movement to pull back my punch, and with expert timing, it was primed at the exact moment I ceased rotating. With an almighty swing, I hooked my punch around and crashed it into the side of my enemy’s head.

As the attacked zoomed in and connected, I paid close attention to the timing of its flight. I watched the whole play-through in slow-motion, feeling my arm move ever closer to my foe’s temple, and then it was time to lock the attack in place. I sent a bolt of tension racing down my entire arm, locking it fiercely in place, channelling all the power into my opponent and losing none in the process. I would not follow through, but rather the attack would freeze as my opponent was hit, blasting him back with maximum impact. As all the power was juiced from my assault I quickly relaxed my arm, allowing it to properly recoil. My enemy was actually lifted off his feet for a split second before he crashed to the ground.

I revelled in the moment for a second, twisting my arm experimentally and grinning in satisfaction. Then a voice rang out above me.

“Hrm. Enough games. All of you, get her!”

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[Deleted]

❖ ? || 80 ❖

I revelled in the moment for a second, twisting my arm experimentally and grinning in satisfaction. Then a voice rang out above me. It was cold, but also slightly angry, I sensed. I turned my gaze upward, knowing it could not have come from anywhere else.

“Hrm. Enough games. All of you, get her!”

The leader of this gang of thugs was still standing coolly above on the powerline, regardless of the fact that his cronies were being toppled like bowling pins by my almighty swings. I could see this rallying cry had an instant effect on the crowd. Though there were only, what, eight of them left compared to the original dozen, suddenly they had a lot more motivation to tear me to pieces. Their master demanded it.

I was turned inward to the circle, but slowly the shape of the remaining crowd began to close in on me, till I was at the edge of what could better be described as a semi-circle. The two goons either side of me did not back away, however, and just looked menacingly in my direction. As my eyes darted back and forth between them, I was completely tensed, ready for attack at any moment and already attempting to predict who would launch first.

After a second I decided that I would be the one who controlled the identity of my attacker. Thus, I turned left to the adversary in that corresponding direction, and predictably I instantly heard running footsteps coming from directly behind me. I first had time to roll my eyes to heaven before I closed them for a brief instant and judged the approach of my target.

His footsteps were sparse and heavy, which meant he was running at full pelt. This kind of analytic blindsided ability mainly sourced from my backwards-roundhouse-kick practice, but I was still a little rough. However I was confident enough in my instinctual powers of combat that I didn’t mind that he was running at me from behind. All it really meant was that I could swing even bigger than usual… and that I did. As his foot hit the pavement one more time, I curved my right arm at my side, gritted my teeth, opened my eyes and swung up and over.

It was not a perfect overhead arc - for that wasn’t really physically possible for a human - but close enough that a huge amount of momentum was created. I flung my entire weight upwards and then to the left, so that my fist travelled along with my body in a wide diagonal roll. At one point my arm was literally curved a good ways above my head; and what comes up, must come down. As my form curved back over and downwards, my fist sped up, dropping like a guillotine on my enemy’s exposed head, with almost perfect timing.

It cracked against his skull with a thud, and this time I did not need to tense for the follow-through force would simply accentuate the attack, driving him even harder to the ground. He crashed into the concrete, presumably breaking most of his face, vibrating the ground just a tiny bit at my feet. I tsk-tsked as I stood there, hands on my hips, casually observing him, hopefully goading his comrades into action…

And indeed, I heard a second pair of footfalls at six o’clock.

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[Deleted]

❖ ?? || 80 ❖

I tsk-tsked as I stood there, hands on my hips, casually observing him, hopefully goading his comrades into action… and indeed, I heard a second pair of footfalls at six o’clock. A roar accompanied the thuds, with something laced in there that sounded almost incoherently like “Argh, you bastard!”

…And so I was pretty sure I was being attacked. This time, though there was more distance for my foe to cross, and I had an even greater amount of time to concentrate my attack. But this time, I wouldn’t try doing a reverse-spin to knock my opponent out at the last second. Instead I would swivel around coolly to face him, watching him sprint at me in blind rage, leaving myself in a standing position for just a moment before I dropped down into my stance, front hand outstretched, legs bent down, one hand pulled back at my shoulder. I gritted my teeth defiantly as he charged, and as he grew closer I too would let a yell tear from my throat. I was about to hit him harder than I had ever hit anyone before ever. And it was going to hurt.

My adrenaline built as he raced at me, surging through my body like liquid anger. It numbed my senses to any trace fear, replacing it only with a frantic combat fury. It lent me great physical strength also, at least in my mind it did, buffering my already considerable muscle. By the time my foe reached punching distance I would be so pumped on frenetic blood-thirst that my roar had reached a much higher pitch, and I was prepared to fuckin’ deck this guy so hard.

I would first bring my rear arm – the one I intended to use in my blow – forward, clutching at it with my forward arm, before pulling my entire body back and up like I was about to throw something really fucking fast. Which essentially I was, it just wasn’t going to be a projectile of any sort. I amassed all my body’s kinetic energy back onto that one point, aligning all my limbs perfectly to create a build-up of tension in my punching arm that, at maximum stretch, was just begging to be heaved forward. And I would be all too happy to oblige.

As I actually threw the punch, I would lean down slightly, so as to avoid the over-arm heave from my foe. His foot planted to the ground as his attack soared past my ear, my whole body moving in the one direction, I narrowly evaded his attack but managed to retain the power of my own. My front foot anchored the attack as I lugged it forward, directly toward my enemy’s face. It crunched there with all the accumulated rage of the moment, coupled with my physical strength, releasing a massive burst of force that I made sure to precisely lock at just the right time.

My opponent would be flung backwards, actually off his feet, soaring backwards and crashing into the ground metres away. He was bleeding from his nose and I was pretty sure I had cracked part of his skull too, because I had felt a definite cave-in. The result jerk down my arm was lesser than usual, though it still rocked me. I stayed in the same position for a moment, simply admiring my handiwork, before rising back up to a standing position.

Then I turned around to face the bewildered semi-circle. “Come on you bastards, if you think you can get me then why don’t you do so?!” I said, arms spread out to address them.

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[N A T S U M I]

+28