The Serpent and the Crimson Oni

The air in the warehouse crackled with renewed tension. The decisive, strategic victory by Maruyama had shattered the Monarchs' aura of invincibility. Yamata's team had lost their momentum before it had even begun.

"We send out 'The Viper'!" Yamata's voice echoed, sharp with frustration.

A lean, wiry fighter with cold, predatory eyes stepped into the ring. He wore Muay Thai shorts, and his shins, scarred and calloused from years of kicking iron posts, looked like weapons themselves. He moved with a slick, dangerous grace, his body a coiled spring of serpentine muscle. This was 'The Viper', a master of the Art of Eight Limbs.

In Kenji's corner, all eyes turned to Rina.

"He's yours, Sato-san," Akari said, her voice a low, urgent hum as she relayed the intel. "Remember the pattern. He leads with a triple jab to set up his right head kick. It's his kill shot. Do not let him establish that rhythm. Your aggression is your greatest asset here. Disrupt, pressure, and never let him breathe."

"Heh," Rina grinned, a feral light dancing in her amber eyes. She cracked her neck and stretched her arms, her body thrumming with contained energy. "Disrupting things is my specialty." She looked at Kenji, a silent promise passing between them. She would not let Maruyama's victory be the only one.

She vaulted over the top rope into the ring, landing lightly on her feet. The contrast between the two fighters was stark. The Viper was a cold, calculating striker. Rina was a storm of raw, untamed power. It was a battle of poison versus fire.

"Hajime!" the referee shouted.

The Viper immediately began to circle, his movements fluid and economical. He was testing her, gauging her reactions. He flicked out a lightning-fast jab.

Rina, instead of backing away, exploded forward. She didn't try to block the jab; she charged right through it, taking the light punch on her forehead without flinching. Her goal was exactly what Akari had ordered: disruption. She was immediately in his face, giving him no room to set up his devastating kicks.

She unleashed a furious barrage of her own—wild, brawling hooks and powerful, straightforward front kicks aimed at his chest, designed to push him back and keep him off balance.

The Viper was shocked by her sheer ferocity. He was used to opponents who were wary of his kicks, who kept their distance. This girl was a rabid animal, trying to tear him apart in close quarters. He was forced onto the defensive, using his skilled footwork to evade her onslaught, unable to find the space he needed to unleash his primary weapons.

"She's overwhelming him!" Maruyama rumbled from the corner.

"For now," Akari cautioned, her eyes narrowed. "The Viper is patient. He's weathering the storm, waiting for her to make a mistake."

As if on cue, Rina, in her aggressive flurry, over-extended on a punch. It was a tiny opening, but for a fighter of The Viper's caliber, it was a canyon.

He seized the opportunity. With blinding speed, he pivoted, his shin scything through the air in a vicious low kick aimed at Rina's lead leg. It was a classic Muay Thai technique designed to cripple an opponent's mobility.

THWACK!

The sound of his shin connecting with her thigh muscle echoed like a gunshot. A gasp went through the audience. Rina cried out in pain, a sharp, involuntary sound, and stumbled back, a dark bruise already beginning to form on her leg.

The Viper didn't press the attack. He just smiled, a cold, reptilian smirk. The first dose of poison had been administered.

"Not so tough now, are you, little girl?" he taunted. "I'll chop you down, piece by piece."

Rina glared at him, her leg screaming in protest. She had felt the power in that kick. It was like being hit with a crowbar. Another two or three of those, and her leg would be useless.

In her corner, Kenji watched, his expression unreadable. He made a small, almost imperceptible gesture with his hand—a downward motion, then a slight tap to his own core. It was a silent command, a piece of advice only his fighters would understand. Lower your stance. Anchor your power.

Rina saw the gesture. Her eyes widened slightly in understanding. She had been fighting with pure, top-heavy aggression. She needed to root herself, to fight from the ground up.

She took a deep breath, the fire in her eyes banking into a controlled, deadly glow. She visibly lowered her center of gravity, adopting a more stable, grounded stance. The wild brawler vanished, replaced by a focused predator.

The Viper saw the shift and grew wary. He began his pattern, the one Akari had warned them about. Jab. Jab. Jab. Three quick, stinging punches to set up the final blow.

He pivoted, his right leg swinging up in a beautiful, lethal arc, aimed directly at Rina's head. The kill shot.

But Rina was ready.

Instead of trying to block the kick with her arms, a move that would likely break them, she did something insane.

As the kick came, she lunged forward, into the attack, her head ducking below the arc of his leg. At the same time, remembering her brutal first exchange with Kenji, she drove her own leg forward, not to kick, but to check. She slammed her own hardened shin directly into The Viper's standing leg—his left ankle.

It was a suicidal, high-risk, high-reward move.

The Viper's eyes widened in horror. His entire body was committed to the head kick, all his weight balanced on that one standing leg. He couldn't stop. He couldn't retreat.

CRUNCH.

The sound was sickening. It wasn't the clean snap of a bone, but the ugly, grinding sound of an ankle joint being destroyed under immense, twisting pressure.

The Viper screamed, a shrill, inhuman sound of pure agony. His kill shot went wide, sailing over Rina's head as his foundation crumbled beneath him. He crashed to the mat in a heap, clutching an ankle that was now bent at an unnatural, grotesque angle.

Rina stood over him, breathing heavily, her own leg throbbing with pain. She had taken a massive gamble, trading pain for victory, and it had paid off.

"You talk too much," she panted, glaring down at the writhing form of her opponent.

The referee rushed in, saw the mangled ankle, and immediately waved his hands. "The match is over! The winner is Sato Rina!"

Another wave of stunned silence, followed by a triumphant roar from Maruyama. "TWO-ZERO!"

Rina limped back to her corner, a proud, savage grin on her face. She was in pain, but she was victorious. She had faced the poison and burned it out with her own fire.

She looked at Kenji for approval. He simply gave her a single, slow nod. To Rina, that one nod was worth more than a thousand trophies.

In the opposite corner, Yamata Kazuya slammed his fist against the ring post in fury. Two of his Monarchs, two of the most feared collegiate fighters in Kanto, had been defeated. Their flawless plan was crumbling into dust. The cold confidence of his sponsors was beginning to waver.

He stared across the ring at Kenji's team. They weren't just a collection of strong fighters. They were a cohesive unit, guided by a terrifyingly perceptive strategist and a leader whose understanding of combat was otherworldly.

His gaze fell on The Ghost, still lurking in the shadows. It was time to stop playing their game. It was time to unleash his true trump card.

"For the third match," Yamata announced, his voice a low, dangerous growl, "we choose our opponent. We choose... Ishikawa Kaito. And he will face... 'The Ghost'!"

A collective chill went through Kenji's corner. The duel of blades. The most dangerous and unpredictable fight of them all was next.