"Excuse me," the man in front of Kenji said. "This is the event for the team competition, single combat is in another section."
Kenji looked around and frowned at what he saw. The location for the site was owned by the runners of this tournament, Omni Resources. To most it looked like a simple logging camp, but there was something off.
In a normal logging camp, owned by other companies, there'd be seed and saplings to replace the cut trees. There'd be a survey to determine which trees were usable and which would have to stay.
This camp wasn't tapping the resource...it was exploiting it.
It matched the whispered rumors he'd heard about the tournament and the company.
"I'm here for the team competition," Kenji said simply.
"And where's your team," the man asked.
"Is there a minimum size for the team?" Kenji asked.
"You are aware that some of the teams have as many as five members," the manager said.
"I am," Kenji noted simply.
Inside he was wondering if he was ready for that much competition, but he wanted to stand out just now, and that meant showing off.
Besides, it was six years since his first tournament and he hadn't run across anything like that Akuma monster since then.
"Your funeral, go right down there please," the manager said, pointing down toward where a number of other fighters were gathering. "They'll be setting the matches for this round in a few minutes when registration is complete."
"Where's the next round going to be?" Kenji asked.
"What's it matter to you, you won't get past this round," the registrar said.
"Where is it?" Kenji insisted.
"Fine, maybe you can be a spectator if you're out of the hospital," the man said. "An Omni Shipping port in Wave Country."
That was the wrong direction, still, Shadoloo was creeping out of south through these merchants calling themselves corporations these days.
He looked about at the competition carefully, there were a lot of faces here. Some of them were young and naive, not many of them had the sort of duty he'd grown up with in listening to his father and mother, but he'd come to accept that.
The martial artists of the Shura Shiai mostly focused on achieving strength and perfection. They all had different reasons for why they wanted that strength, some which matched that samurai duty he'd grown up with.
However, he saw people here that were out more for glory than self-advancement. That he hadn't seen since he'd gotten out of the lower ranked tournaments.
He'd heard this was an unranked tournament, now he believed it. Setting cubs against wolves. It was an interesting recruitment method. Any up and comers that felt they had been humiliated would jump at the bit to sign up for Omni's training resources and backing, and before they knew it, they'd be in Shadoloo's back pocket.
Kenji hoped he didn't get a team of green-fighters this time around. He didn't want to be a part of that sort of thing.
The matchings were posted as the onlookers listened, a cameraman to the side was filming the event for sale later. Kenji wondered if they could make any money off of that, so few people had video players around the world, they were mostly used for security purposes. Though he supposed they could play it in pieces in front of some movies at the theaters.
"Kenji Himura to fight Excessive Force," the squawker called out.
Kenji's eyes wandered to the named team. Two of them were huge, including a sumo, and the third was obviously a former soldier of some sort. Their strengths and weaknesses were easy to measure. They displayed them almost proudly.
But for all that they were hardened and dangerous.
Kenji smiled.
Just the sort of opponents he preferred.
He walked out onto the field carrying his Katana as his opponents did likewise.
"This is an insult, da," the soldier said. "One man to fight us? Where is your team little man?"
"You would be wise to not underestimate me," Kenji said, smiling faintly.
"We crush this little man and go to next round," the sumo said. Kenji noticed that he wasn't wearing the traditional clothing of a sumo wrestler, but just a pair of stretchy shorts. That implied a dishonor of some sort.
"Yeah, first rounds are always full of small fish," the other huge one said, speaking out of large brown beard.
Kenji watched as they moved to surround him, no real sign of strategy here, they were seemingly just planning on moving in and attacking him. Only the soldier possessed any decent speed.
"Round one," the referee called out after giving out the rules. "Fight!"
The sumo charged in first, hands slapping out vigorously in a blur of motion which Kenji lightly stepped out of the way of, letting his enemy pass by as he drew his sword and slashed behind him.
Kenji didn't have to look to know that he'd struck the man. He could feel the resistance against the blade as it dug into the flesh, and he could hear the crash as the injured limb failed to support the heavily muscled man.
Weak resistance for a sumo, Kenji thought as he resheathed his katana.
The next two looked rather shocked for a moment and then came in together, more cautiously. The ex-soldier moved in slightly ahead, but it was a clear feint.
Kenji turned to face the false attack, letting the other big one come to the conclusion that the trick had worked.
The kick that came next was easily dodged, but geared to drive him back into the reach of the ex-soldiers towering teammate. The soldier, probably the team leader, was already moving into his dodge even as he kicked out.
Kenji ducked down and twisted on his feet, drawing out his sword again in one quick flash across the large man's stomach and abdomen. That shallow slash wasn't a debilitating strike, though, so he followed it up with a quick roll that brought him behind the larger man.
As the giant started to turn and follow the samurai's motion, Kenji swung his sword up across the man's left arm. Tendons sliced under the shallow cut, rendering the man's arm useless.
The soldier was coming around the cursing form of his teammate, a stack of chained logs behind him. The sumo was also finally trying to limp up onto his feet.
Growling the soldier came in with a fighting knife drawn from somewhere. The sound of steel on steel rang as Kenji caught the weapon on his blade and shifted his weight so that he spun around behind the soldier until all three of his opponents were again on the same side of him.
His blade swung out behind him with a sound of striking metal and then he sheathed it coolly.
Growling in anger at how easily they'd been handled to this point, the three bruisers charged forward in a formation that was obviously tried and true. Kenshin had to given them that, when they decided to they could acheive some powerful teamwork.
It was already too late, however, as he stepped aside and twisted, bringing them to follow him, but still on the same line they had been.
The chain he'd half cut earlier as he sheathed his blade exploded outwards releasing several hundred pounds of wood to come rolling down atop the three men.
Kenji arched an eyebrow as he observed their unconscious forms.
Minor injuries, nothing lethal, even the tendons he'd cut could be fixed with the right doctor or medical shinobi. Hopefully, that kept him from disgracing his mother's dojo too much.
Still, it was damn hard to win these fights with doing permanent damage.
"Winner," the caller said. "Kenji Himura."
Kenji bowed to the caller and the crowd and walked back to the waiting group of fighters.
"Great, now everyone's going to be watching the log piles," he heard a fighter note.
"My apologies for ruining your strategy," Kenji said quietly, drawing a sweat-beaded face from the man.
Kenji sat down and sighed. Two more matches for this round, and then on to the Water Country for the next round. He kept his eyes active as he took in the competition, but also watched the onlookers.
He was receiving some appropriate attention, of course, but he was recognizing some faces. Omni Resources officials for one, and a few faces he'd seen lingering in some of the seedier tournaments.
He was getting closer.
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(Posted Wed, 18 Mar 2009 11:39)
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