14 Chapter 13 - Home Sweet Home
Glancing at the unconscious man sprawled before me, a soft sigh escaped my lips, mingling with a tinge of uncertainty that lingered in the air. The thought crossed my mind – had I perhaps exerted too much force? However, as I stooped to check his pulse, a wave of relief washed over me upon confirming the rhythmic beat beneath my fingertips. Assured of his survival, I tenderly brushed my cheek where his blow had grazed me moments earlier. A lingering sting persisted, a physical reminder of the unexpected vulnerability I had experienced. The irony was not lost on me; reaching the esteemed ranks of the expert class was supposed to bestow an invisible shield against lower-ranked combatants like him. Yet here lay this young man, hovering at the mid-range disciple level but displaying a raw talent that defied traditional expectations. His prowess was all the more remarkable considering his evident lack of formal martial arts training, a fact that added layers to the mystique surrounding his abilities.
In defiance of all logic and expectations, the child displayed a remarkable resilience that defied explanation. Despite the intensity of the encounter, there was an undeniable air of exceptionalism surrounding him. His ability to quickly recover from a seemingly incapacitating blow left me in awe, questioning the limits of human capability. As I pivoted to depart from the scene, a subtle sound caught my attention, prompting me to glance back in astonishment. To my disbelief, the very same child I had presumed to be rendered unconscious was now on his feet before me. The perplexing sight left me dumbfounded; how could someone who appeared so thoroughly defeated moments ago now stand tall and unyielding?
His precarious balance teetered momentarily, a fleeting dance with stumbling that he narrowly averted by regaining his footing, fixing me with a steely-eyed glare brimming with unwavering resolve. His unyielding gaze conveyed an unspoken determination, a fierce refusal to succumb to the imminent threat of losing his ground.
"I-I'm not d-done yet." He struggled to articulate his words, visibly grappling with the aftermath of our intense altercation. Despite his evident physical distress, he persevered in trying to communicate, pushing his body to its absolute limits. Slowly advancing towards me with a determination reminiscent of a determined zombie on a singular mission, his eyes betraying a vacant stare yet unwavering resolve. In an act defying the constraints of his own failing body, he mustered the strength to throw a punch in my direction. However, before it could find its mark, he succumbed to unconsciousness, teetering on the brink of collapse. Swiftly intercepting his fall, I couldn't help but acknowledge the resilience and tenacity displayed by this remarkable individual. Contemplating his condition, it was clear that he urgently required time and care for recovery.
With a nonchalant demeanor, I casually hoisted him over my shoulder, balancing the weight of his limp body against the groceries in my other hand as I trudged my way back home. The question lingered like a mischievous whisper: could this peculiar scenario be construed as a form of kidnapping? Perhaps. Yet, in my defense, his fragile state necessitated a safe space for recuperation. After all, it was not my intention to confine him against his will within the confines of my humble abode.
The journey back home was a swift one, yet upon arrival, I was faced with the daunting task of elucidating to Kyao the circumstances that led to me bringing an unconscious individual along. Despite the initial perplexity this situation might evoke, once I narrated the events that transpired and highlighted the immense capabilities displayed by the children, curiosity replaced any apprehension she might have harbored. Even though she expressed a desire for prior consultation, her intrigue overshadowed any reservations.
So, I would release a deep sigh and settle into a patient stance, awaiting the man's awakening. This moment of quiet reflection allowed me to ponder our recent altercation and contemplate his rather aggressive fighting technique. While undeniably possessing its own distinct flair, it lacked finesse and refinement. Imagining the transformative power of Ancient Martial Arts training on this young fighter stirred my imagination. The prospect of him honing his skills to refine his raw talent and craft a unique fighting style held a captivating allure, promising an intriguing journey of self-discovery and growth in the world of combat sports.
Nearly two hours slipped by before I observed a subtle movement from the young man as he started to stir, gradually returning to consciousness. In an instant, he leapt to his feet, his eyes darting around the unfamiliar environment. Within mere moments, upon catching sight of me, he tensed up, readying himself for a confrontation. The rapid transformation from disorientation to vigilance highlighted his instinctual response to the unknown situation.
"Wow, come down man! I am not going to hurt you, I just brought you here so you could recover somewhere safe." I would gesture with my hands raised in a slightly defensive yet playful manner, mirroring the young man's curious gaze as he assessed me from head to toe. After a moment of contemplation, he slowly lowered his hands and fixed me with an intense stare, creating a charged atmosphere thick with unspoken emotions.
"You beat me. How did you get so strong? No one has ever beat me." Berserker's unexpected question left me momentarily stunned. The notion that this young individual had managed to navigate numerous battles without a single defeat was undeniably remarkable. Admittedly, my circle of acquaintances in the city did not encompass many master-level fighters, which somewhat explained the absence of disciple-class combatants in the area. This realization added a layer of intrigue to the situation and piqued my curiosity further.
"Uhhh, training. My master taught me everything I know. Real martial artists aren't as weak as you seem to think, but you probably just haven't fought any worth a damn. Hell, I once saw my master punch right through a car." Recalling that moment, I looked at the expression on Berserker's face as he gazed back at me - a mix of astonishment and fascination. Little did I know that his following question would be so unexpected and impactful that it nearly caused me to lose my balance in surprise.
"Then, can you train me?" Oh, the complexity of the question that was just posed! It stirred a whirlwind of thoughts and considerations within me. The foremost issue that stood out prominently was my realization that I had not attained the level of mastery in fighting required to confidently mentor a disciple. This raised profound introspection on whether I possessed the necessary expertise to guide and train another individual in such a challenging domain.
"Look Berserker. I am not a master. I am what is called an Expert Class Fighter. Meaning I haven't even mastered my own martial arts. What makes you think I can help you develop your own style and mentor you?" I would always cherish the way he paused, gazing at me intently, as if time stood still. His next words, uttered with a sense of gravity and wisdom, left me completely speechless and in awe. It was a moment that etched itself into my memory, profound and unforgettable.
"I don't care. You are strong, and I wish to become strong." He would often respond with a sense of endearment, perhaps thinking, "Oh, this kid again." As my mind whirred with contemplation, the possibility dawned on me. I realized that in reality, I might not need to impart much knowledge to him beyond the Sekukin and Inner Eye techniques. The bulk of the effort would likely rest on his shoulders. Additionally, I could share with him my expertise in ancient martial arts exercises. Lost in these musings, I cast a glance his way and released a contemplative sigh.
"Damn kid. I wasn't expecting to take on a disciple, but if you really are sure then fine. Go home and meet me here tomorrow. Spend the rest of today recovering and we can start training tomorrow." I find myself contemplating the profound decision of accepting his request. Embracing the role of a mentor to a disciple undoubtedly presents challenges, yet I recall with gratitude the wisdom imparted by my own master, who revealed that taking me under his wing had not only enriched my journey but also contributed to his own growth and development. This opportunity, though daunting, could indeed be a hidden blessing waiting to unfold. Perhaps seeking the counsel of other esteemed masters would offer valuable insights and perspectives, guiding me towards clarity in evaluating the merits of this significant choice.
Before parting ways, Berserker took the time to formally introduce himself to me, revealing his name as Shōgo Kitsukawa. His name piqued my curiosity, adding an air of intrigue to our encounter. As he bid farewell, I made my way towards Ryozanpaku, a renowned location where I sought guidance on the intricate art of mentoring a disciple. Despite my personal doubts about being adequately prepared for such a task, it seemed that fate had already set its course for me in this unexpected journey.
