High-Tech Fisticuffs

Arabaki Shuji’s rich boy whims apparently extended not only to the night life, but to the many industries that the Tenjou Clan found themselves invested in over time.

The days when yakuza merely oversaw underground businesses and lawless domains grew more and more difficult in modern times. It had become more common for them to dive into normal, legitimate companies that generated big money. Nothing was off limits when it came to yakuza surviving the times.

The Tenjou Clan’s capital had certainly boomed along with the roaring economy of the 80s, but the recession afterwards required the strong-armed of the underground to recruit savvy businessmen with gray morals to keep things afloat.

As such, Ryuji had always seen Arabaki as a man that let money do the talking. The fact that he had torn off his shirt and taken a fighting pose had been unexpected.

A hiss of machinery and hum of electronics broke the silence that had developed as a result. Ryuji couldn’t take his eyes off as he scanned the futuristic getup before him. Overall, it looked pretty…

“Stupid. I have to say that the future clashes with your normal wardrobe, Arabaki.”

“Aww, don’t be like that, Yama Ryu. Not everyone can look naturally imposing in their own skin. I need a bit of cash flow to do the job. An exoskeleton suit to even the odds while chasing after a legend.”

Arabaki suddenly dashed forward, with a speed that immediately put Ryuji on high alert. A right cross ripped right where his head would have been if his instincts had been duller. A quick left followed, forcing Ryuji to guard with his arm.

A pain erupted from his forearm as a solid blow warned him not to underestimate his opponent. Ryuji took several steps back to quickly recompose himself, shaking off the numb sensation that was beginning to build.

“Ryuji…”

“Yeah, I know, Grace. I’m not about to eat metal fists. Pure iron is a bit tough to chew on,” Ryuji whispered, psyching himself up in the process.

He reared back and took a deep breath, letting the dragon in him surface. He quickly pounced, shooting a right kick low at Arabaki’s shins, but seeing quick footwork ensue, Ryuji lounged in to follow with an uppercut.

His fist met air as Arabaki skirted right past, sending a spinning kick aimed for Ryuji’s open back. The sharpness of Arabaki’s movements warned that his legs had been enhanced as well. Ryuji ducked immediately for a sweep while his opponent had his leg up.

To his surprise, he caught nothing as Arabaki did a backflip to avoid it. Immediately upon landing, he shot forward with a diving punch, which forced Ryuji to roll out of the way.

Ryuji found himself slightly winded already from the short exchange. Every move of his was being countered, giving him only a split second to decide how to respond. When the flow of battle wasn’t on one’s side, it quickly drained stamina. But even stranger, the moves felt all too familiar to him.

“Where’d you learn how to fight like that?” Ryuji’s gaze half looked over to Grace, his mind pulling her to where Arabaki was standing. It was undeniable that he pulled off the same moves as she did in his dreams.

Arabaki simply brought a finger up to tap his temple before pointing at Ryuji.

“It’s thanks to you, Yama Ryu. The data that you helped collect for Project Grace has been invaluable to development. And that look on your face tells me everything. Why do something like that? Well, as you’ve said before, the Yama Ryu isn’t interested in becoming the head of the Tenjou Clan.”

Ryuji stood up, his resolve burning from the realization of having his abilities copied and how Grace was used to do so.

“That’s right. I have no interest in leading all of you. But creating another Yama Ryu to replace me? That’s low.”

“If you’re referring to Shindou’s vendetta against you, I have no part in that. I simply found it a missed opportunity to let such power remain bottled on the streets, rather than it being the mark of Tenjou’s continued prosperity. I merely funded such a venture since it was undeniably interesting.”

Ryuji shot forward, anger apparent in his eyes. A one-two punch was aimed at the metal suit, his intention of dismantling it clear. Arabaki saw it coming, gliding off to the side with a flourish like a matador and his bull.

The chase continued, nonetheless. Ryuji cut the distance in an instant, claws drawn and ready to slash his way to victory. But no matter how he swung, air was all he could grasp as Arabaki dodged away at the last moment.

A hard left blew Ryuji’s face to the side. He ignored it and kept swinging, only to feel a kick to the ribs a moment later. He instinctively swiveled to nurse the side before lashing out for revenge, only to meet nothing again.

His patience was wearing thin as he failed to make any ground over his opponent, a fresh taste of pain blunting his advance each time.

“Ryuji, stop!”

A flash of pink hair blocked his view. Stern eyes shot right at him, but he ducked right around it, solely focused on Arabaki instead. He saw an opening from what looked like a feint in Arabaki’s eyes. A full-strength liver shot had Arabaki’s name on it, but the skin of his fist just barely grazed the metal suit before alarm bells rang in Ryuji’s head. He looked up to see a chopping right coming down.

It slammed into Ryuji’s left cheek, causing him to spin wildly out of his stance. He fumbled to correct himself, but he looked up to see a shelving unit coming at him. Wood splintered as he met it head-on, the shattered pieces clattering upon the ground. As tough as Ryuji was, the damage was still significant. Palms slapped across the ground as he could barely hold himself up after the exchange. The dragon had been brought to his knees.

“Technology is an amazing thing. Without it, we’d be fighting with sticks and stones rather than blades and bullets. And the lack of any hesitation by yakuza to capitalize on what is needed is exactly why I got into this gig. I will take us even further.”

Arabaki flicked the leftover wood that had remained of his makeshift weapon. The hydraulics that aided in the power and fluidity of his suit let out a hiss of intimidation. One of a mechanical dragon.

Those words made Ryuji angry. To him, being a yakuza was not about that. He didn’t want to simply reign over the clan with power. He was there to protect the way of life, for those that had no other way. And to be beaten by someone that made light of such things, merely to preserve some power balance – he had to grit his teeth and stand again.

“That’s it, Ryuji. You leave me with no choice!”

Ryuji suddenly felt his reins being taken over. His head whipped back, and his arms felt like ropes had lassoed around them. He looked over at Grace, who stood there with a commanding pose. Her normally jovial expression had taken a serious turn.

During this, he eyed Arabaki coming for him once again. Instead of rearing back for a counter, Ryuji took a back seat to controlling his body, watching as it moved on its own.

He evaded Arabaki, rolling away to one side. His movements were once again fluid as he danced with Arabaki, but Ryuji knew. It was Grace that was fighting. She was doing her best to keep him safe instead of his heated revenge that had gotten him in trouble.

Ryuji stared for some time, Arabaki’s fists and feet missing him by a hair, unlike before. Though he could clearly see the attacks, Ryuji realized that his own habits forced him to endure the hits while going for the kill. But for an opponent that was souped up on tech, that was a poor decision. Grace had stepped in with a clearer mind than his.

“What now?” Ryuji exclaimed, meaning it for Grace, but Arabaki overheard.

“What, you say? Don’t tell me that you actually wish to be the Chairman? Why didn’t you say so before? Why put on airs? Take some responsibility. Stop dodging and come take it then, Yama Ryu!”

Arabaki grabbed a chair and threw it at Ryuji, who spectated his own body rolling out of the way. He tried to force his way back into control, putting up his fists, but that resistance against Grace only got him a punch in the face from being too distracted to dodge.

Stunned from the blow, he shook it off before realizing that he had retreated even farther from Arabaki.

“Grace, let me go! What are you doing!” Ryuji hissed lowly.

“Taking care of my patient!”

Ryuji kept struggling like he was caught in a straitjacket. Grace’s hold on him was too strong, and by the time he could think to check back at Arabaki, a flying foot slammed into his chest.

Ryuji was sent crashing through glass. The sudden freefall invoked a sense of vertigo as he wildly rotated in the air. The wind picked up and the scenery spun. Ryuji’s heart flew out of his chest as he figured out what it meant.

But before he could panic, his arms were forced to stretch out, and his fingers wrapped around a solid shaft. His body smoothly did a lache off it to divert the momentum. Eyeing a jut in the wall next, he clawed onto it for dear life.

“What the hell! We’re six stories up!”

“That’s what you get for not listening to me! It wasn’t ideal, but you needed to get away from him.” Grace said, floating down with fairy wings to meet his gaze. “Don’t worry, I had you covered by mapping an escape route.”

“Mapped out? I’m hanging over the edge of a building! People are down below pointing at the next suicide jumper, wondering if I’m some chump that settled for dying instead of getting sent on a tuna boat!”

“No no, you’ve got this. Just follow the trail.”

A trajectory mapped out in Ryuji’s vision, telling him where to go next. With a gulp, he did a short hop to some nearby vent ducts, second-guessing if it would simply give out under his weight.

“I was sure to only include weight bearing locations of a minimum of 150 kilograms, so climb with assurance!”

“Thanks…,” Ryuji responded with a dead gaze, sucking it up and continuing his path downwards, occasionally finding a jostling pipe that made him curse aloud.

Grace morphed into a cheerleading outfit, shoving pom poms into his vision for encouragement. That managed to distract him from the sheer distance to the ground, if only because it redirected caution to annoyance.

It took another fifteen minutes for him to traverse the rest of the way down. His phone buzzed several times in the process, but it wasn’t like he could free up a hand for it. Finally at the bottom, he checked it and hit the call return button.

“Ozaki, report!”

“Everything’s cooled down with the Shindou Family down here, boss. What about upstairs?”

“Shindou’s down, but another problem’s popped up.”

“Need a second for a tag team?”

“Don’t bother. I’m already at ground level. A certain someone interfered with the fight, so I didn’t get to finish.”

“Well, that’s no f-“

Just then, another beep sounded from Ryuji’s phone. He looked at the screen, seeing some unregistered number. He was about to decline it when he felt his finger shift over to the ‘accept’.

“Hello, this is Dr. Higashi. How are things with Grace?”

“Where do I start? How about the fact that she’s the reason that I fell out of a window, six stories up!”

A moment of dead silence happened on the line before Ryuji heard a chuckle.

“Spreading your wings a bit too much, I see. That tends to happen with Grace.”

“First time a nurse has nearly sent me to the hospital, I’ll tell you that.”

“You must be wondering why I called so suddenly after ditching you during our escape.”

“Might have crossed my mind.”

“I detected some pretty strong frequencies attuned to Grace, more than one, so it piqued my interest. For a while now, I’ve been keeping tabs on a certain benefactor for my research in Project Grace, wondering what he’s got planned.”

Ryuji sighed. “Lemme guess. Your benefactor’s name is Arabaki Shuji.”

“Bingo. Rich guy with deep pockets for trinkets that fascinate him. I take it that he contacted you?”

“Oh, we contacted alright. With our fists. But the thing is, he was able to swipe my fighting style somehow through this pet project of yours. Care to explain how that happened?”

Ryuji’s tone was clear. Suspicions against the doctor were building up, particularly after the timely call. It felt like he had been bamboozled into something bigger than simply protecting some strange tech.

“Frankly, I’m a bit at a loss in regards to all your underworld schemes. As a civilian, I can only skim the surface of such ongoings, which is why I left it to you when I caught wind of Grace being sought after.”

“Bull-”

“But, I know exactly how someone could copy your skills through Grace.”

Ryuji clenched his fists, staring at his phone like he was trying to bore holes into the caller at the other end. He was waiting eagerly for answers.

“He just so happens to control a vast network of information that hardly anyone else can access, all for a price. Care to guess who funded that initial framework to construct it all?”

Ryuji gulped.

“The Server of Rye works for Arabaki Shuji.”

“Unfortunately, that’s how it is.”

It finally clicked why he was given information on Shindou’s betrayal for free. Only, it had already been compensated. He thought being an unwilling spy had been the price, but apparently, even his skills were up for grabs.

“So, everything I do is kept track of and relayed back to Mr. Deep Pockets. Great, just great. I have a ghost of myself as an opponent, seeking the top rungs of the Tenjou Clan.”

“Hey now, not all is lost. We just need to pull the Server of Rye back to our side. After all, there’s one thing he values more than money and paradise – friends that go way back. Meet you there, Yama Ryu.”

The phone clicked off with Ryuji’s jaw hanging. Hypnagogia was the last place he wanted to revisit so soon, but it didn’t seem like he had any choice.

He dialed Ozaki back to let him know that he was fine. The troops would have to pull out, given that their objective was complete. Taking down Arabaki Shuji was another matter. As he eyed Grace the whole time during the call, he realized that she was the only partner he could count on for this task.