Different worlds of the last heaven and knights of the fist.

The lights of the city, desired from the mountains of the night, were also like countless jewels scattered and shining.

Although it is a month-like expression with a scar, it only seemed so at the time.

If you pull up close, it's only the lighting of the building and the thin dirty street lights. If you look at them from afar, do you feel beautiful?

It was strange and fascinating. Reminds me of such emotions.

In the darkness with thin lights plugged in. Captured by nostalgic memories, the old man overlooked the spectacular view that spread across the fence.

"Ko -"

Exhale. I spit out everything that's inside me, to the limit. Spitting, swelling my stomach.

After stopping perfectly, turn around and breathe in the air. Take the night air into your body and let it patrol you to the full.

"Phew... I knew the air tasted good in the mountains."

Indulging in fresh air for the evening view, the Ten Rivers of One Mountain solitary with satisfaction as he stretched out his old body.

Turn your heels back and go down the path of a quiet night.

Though in the mountains, the grass was undisturbed and the exterior lights were erected at regular intervals.

Naturally, too, this is not an undivided natural land for people. Deep behind the mountain was an inn held in the green forest, a walkway behind it.

A reputable tourist destination with cherry blossoms in spring and red leaves in autumn. This season is the most distant time of the year because there is nothing like eye-catching. That's why it was also a good idea to stay quiet.

Thus one mountain may go away at random. Although this was the first time I came out of nowhere until I left a sticker.

On a cold winter night, only the sound of a single mountain of grass walking around the cobblestone spirits around.

- It was, but eventually it sounds different.

That was the footsteps of someone coming from the front.

As a feature that emerged due to the thin lighting of the outer light, it was not Japanese first. Short blonde hair, both grey eyes. Are you in your mid-twenties? Wide shoulder width, disappointing physique that seems more natural than worked out. I have something that I can't give you in the East.

Brown thick down jacket, jeans underneath. I could imagine the thick flesh hidden underneath, even though it was such a seasonal thick outfit. The height appears to be slightly over one hundred and eighty centimeters.

The young foreigner, coming from across the street, stopped his leg in a way that blocked the way of one mountain of goings. Its large body was like a boulder blocking a narrow mountain path.

"Good evening, Shigawa Kayama,"

"Ooh ho. I don't know."

"I'm afraid so. I finally met you. I visited your dojo a few days ago, but I was away."

"Whoa, that was rude. Come a long way. Which country are you from?

"It's America."

"Ooh! Eye cans...... cans...... um. Hang on, you're good at Japanese."

The more unnatural it felt to be spoken of from its appearance, the more fluent and polite the pronunciation of the youth was.

"Thank you. It looked like this and came to Japan for a long time. I live in Fukuoka now.... by the way"

Such an exotic young man says.

"-" That's where you're good at Japanese, "- so I guess it's rude."

The silence descended.

"From now on -... a year ago in Southeast Asia. Some civil war, you know?"

As I ask, I continue to wait for a response from one mountain.

"My grandfather said he was proud of his big arms. Ultimately, he was to quit in conscription, but there were times when he stood in the ring as a heavyweight boxer. When you got drunk, you decided to say," I'll beat the gun, "etc."

You look like an idiot, and the blonde shows her teeth and laughs.

"But in fact, it was strong. You think it was undefeated on the street? Seems like he was serious about getting himself up at arm's length, because times were the time. There was no such thing as a diverse stage of martial arts as is now available. As a result of my search for a stronger opponent, a more dangerous place to fight...... what my grandfather eventually got to was a real battlefield. It was conscription, but he traveled to the battlefield all he wanted. What do you say, it's crazy. I guess it wasn't decent. He said his family was on the verge of giving up half of it."

He, who would be one of his family, speaks objectively pale.

"And in fact, my grandfather was to be scattered on the battlefield. Even if it was just him, he still said he couldn't have fought firearms. That's what they thought, but when they saw the body of my grandfather, who had to come back, my relatives were suspicious."

At your fingertips, tapping your own left temple with a ton.

"The left side of the skull was crushed by an extremely strong impact. There was not a single gunshot wound. … he was defeated in melee."

Unbuttoning the jacket, the exotic man exhales a feverish white breath.

"Because it's war. There will be no wonder that even a mighty man will die lightly. But......"

I was curious, he says.

"I became a martial arts addict myself and joined the army...... one day I became interested in a fold visiting my grandfather's grave in Arlington and looked into it a lot. It was amazingly scarce, and I struggled with it."

That my grandfather was actually a strong man. About the person who killed that grandfather.

And then we got to...

"'Phantom'. Running around the battlefield, you think there was such an alias a feared person?"

Divine. A big man dances the universe just by touching it. A gray-haired little man like the 'master' that people imagine, manipulating martial arts like that fantasy.

For the sake of so absurd a story, there was no one to fit in properly.

The hallucinations of stress on the battlefield, the false information deliberately shed by the enemy, which was uncertain as the phantom Phantom, and few knew the truth.

"Mr. Kaiyama. The white of your hair is not old and faded. I was born with it."

The young man continues to speak as he strips off his jacket and exposes the thick chest plate wrapped in a stranded t-shirt. It's like a detective reveals who the real killer is.

"The real name of the person I looked up and found out about was never heard of... what an odd sound it sounded like. At least at the time, it was not named Sogou Katayama or anything else. Sure -,"

Your grandfather was strong.

For the first time here, one mountain broke in.

"The technique I used for your grandfather was called" Hihanachi. "At the time, there was only one person who showed off this, I'm sure."

"Huff, the process of completion. Can you show it to me too?"

"Ho, it's up to you"

An exotic warrior who stepped on gravel and softly stood up.

Its flesh is much thicker than an old mountain, and it is taller and has an opening of more than thirty centimeters. In addition, the age difference is just grandchildren and children. There is no way to establish a struggle.

But no questions asked, see the young challenger standing in Orthodox boxing style,

"Hmm. Hey, you just joined the army... did you say that?

"You're one of them, aren't you? At least not karate."

"Here. Well, I don't know"

There is no information that this old man, who names himself 'Now' One Mountain Ten River, belonged to the army or a similar organization. In the first place, we don't even know where it really came from. You're supposed to be a 'this side' person, but there shouldn't have been an environment where you could master cutting-edge melee fighting.

(If you think about the context of the times, something that gives the edge to the Fairburn system that underpins modern military martial arts… I polished it up independently - and did you say that?)

While silent, less than four seconds in time.

It was the youth who moved.

Gravel kick up by right foot. Before the scattered debris flies, but there's already no sign of a mountain.

A white shadow that was crawling low to the side approached the left leg of a young man standing on one leg.

(Fast......! Are you really an old man!? "Phantom" is what I used to say -)

The appearance of even the remnants of Kasumi is a monster that truly outweighs people.

The young man immediately puts his right foot on the ground and hits the left of the interception. I don't care if you're old. I'm not the one who can. Stand low to fit back length with old man, track from bottom to top. The shape is palm bottom. And jabs, not cannons Straight. A move to strike the opponent's jaw in the palm of his hand and poke his finger into the orbit.

One mountain, however, was scolding this jaw "chin" jab by giving in even more.

When it embodies an alias, it is immaterial, and it attaches itself to the hips of young people.

(Kuck!)

No matter how inexperienced the user is, this difference in stature won't let him take it down or anything. I resist the arms force that I don't think of as an old man, and stomp to not be defeated.

Intimate intermission.

"Shh!"

The young man, who made the scaffold certain, aimed at the back of an old man far smaller than himself and slapped his left elbow off.

but no response to the landing.

Even lower. An incredibly low, bent mountain moved around behind the young man with his left thigh caught. A child who hangs like an athletic. The behavior is like a quiet mist that flows in unknowingly, out of the realm of man.

"Um, I'm doing great today." The White Line. "

Words and variations from behind were simultaneous.

Impact felt like a ton behind both knees.

Floated.

That's all I got, floated.

A young man, whose legs were incredibly distracted from the earth, who could be hailed as a giant.

(Stupid!?

They knocked you down? Did they pay you for your legs? Throwed?

None. Impossible. This is like...

"The Washi genre,"

Just for a moment. Reach the ears of a young man who was jumped up on both legs and became defenseless in the air.

"-, but should I say"

The sound of the wind. What I heard mixed up with it was a name that didn't seem like a martial arts genre to me on this occasion.

Immediately after,

"Here. Take it, take it."

The shock knocked the whole body of the youth out.

"Damn, ha...!

Swinging world.

He was grabbed in the face and struck at the cobblestone.

Most of all, as advised just before it was deliberately brought. It didn't lead to fatal injuries because a 'take' pinched his hand between the back of his head and the ground in time.

(Lost, …?)

A small star looked up at the brilliant cold sky, and the youth just realized the end of it.

I see, but maybe it makes sense. It was so puzzling.

Moment ahead.

"The Washi genre,"

"- Temple -, but should I say"

I suspected I heard wrong.

But surely the White Ong said at that moment.

The Trust Oracle, and.

Old man going on a walkway to the inn. Its mouth was symbolic of a grin like the Three Suns and Moons.

(Mm, yeah. 'Real' is, after all, yes)

One mountain dampens its lips with its tongue, as it tasted the finest dishes.

Sophisticated fighting techniques. War or intent to kill on there. They are superb meats and spices.

Sometimes the 'business' that once piled up carries such a treat. I can't wait because this is it.

And now.

One mountain was also in the midst of serving the finest cuisine.

The stars instantly look up at the night sky, and the white old man groans his name.

"... a shield."

so that I can scorch.

"Not yet. Not yet, weak"

Not yet. In a boy today, I can't blossom. At best.

(Because you're sweet. You can't use "Eight Absurds")

End with contraindications. For a boy to handle it, there's something he needs to get over.

Like young military men today, for example.

I still can't draw flowers for Arishi protection.

(Is it about time... you got enough to play with Kozuku? But you're not a vessel that ends there)

I want to see it.

"Blooming in the Universe, White Flowers". I've been thinking about it, the scene.

He'll show you someday.

and there,

"So, who?"

The old man's flesh jumped viculently. Like cramps or seizures.

"Who..."

On its wrinkled face,

"Refuge. Who are you?"

There's a tense grin, reminiscent of the "Ong" Nobu surface.

"If anyone dies, you will wake up..."

The old man's side.

I lived in complete madness.