Chapter 21: Let’s See Who Prevails

He was well aware that, given his current skill level, trying his hand at no-holds-barred fighting was as futile as an old man hanging himself out of boredom—just asking for trouble.

But... there were so few skill slots!

Whether it was boxing or kickboxing, most techniques were designed for one-on-one matches in the ring, focusing primarily on kicks and punches. Mixed Martial Arts, on the other hand, encompassed a comprehensive range of combat styles—jiu-jitsu, joint locks, ground fighting, and kickboxing, blending them all together.

In his previous life, Aoki Tsukasa had watched plenty of MMA matches and had a fair understanding of the sport. He believed that if he was going to use his limited skill slots to acquire techniques, each one should be as versatile and refined as possible. If he was to learn a hand-to-hand combat skill, it might as well be the most all-encompassing one.

This was a conclusion he came to after learning kendo: at high levels, kendo might allow one to become like one of those legendary swordsmen of old, dispatching opponents with a single stroke. But in modern society, who would ever need such a skill? If a fight really broke out, was he supposed to say, “Wait a moment, let me fetch my wooden sword…”?

No, a skill like mixed martial arts was far more practical. If he didn’t want to hurt anyone, he could use jiu-jitsu moves to subdue them without injury. If he ran into some hulking brute, he had joint locks and other techniques at his disposal.

“Are you sure?” The bald, burly man frowned slightly. He didn’t know much about this young man, who was bald like himself, but believed there were very few young people who had truly trained in MMA.

Maybe he’d only chosen MMA because he heard it paid more?

After a moment’s hesitation, the burly man kindly warned him, “Just so you know, MMA is really difficult and complicated. If you haven’t trained in it, the gap is huge. It’s nothing like regular street fighting. Are you really sure?”

“I can’t claim I’m on a professional level, but I think, for a mid-level sparring partner, I might be up to the challenge,” Aoki Tsukasa replied with a grin. He looked at the two burly men in the nearby octagon, grappling on the mat, each trying to lock the other’s neck, and nodded with resolve.

[Skill available for learning: Mixed Martial Arts.]

Learn. The moment the system prompted him, Aoki Tsukasa accepted. Instantly, his mind filled with a wealth of foundational knowledge about MMA: proper stance, basic punching techniques, ground maneuvers, and explanations of the relevant rules.

After taking a moment to compose himself, Aoki Tsukasa checked his skill panel.

[Skill: Mixed Martial Arts LV1 – You have mastered the basics required for MMA, but are still far from true mastery or real combat proficiency. Strength +1, Agility +1, Stamina +1. Experience (0/100)]

“System, show me my attribute panel.”

[Host: Aoki Tsukasa]
[Strength: 10 (Average adult is 10; rated based on overall muscle strength.)]
[Agility: 11 (Average adult is 10; based on overall coordination, muscle explosiveness, etc.)]
[Intellect: 14 (Average adult is 10; based on memory, logic, learning ability, and other cognitive skills. Note: This does not equate to IQ or EQ.)]
[Stamina: 7 (Average adult is 10; based on muscle endurance and physical stamina.)]
[Charisma: 17 (Average Earth human is 10; rated on appearance, physique, temperament, and overall charm.)]

Damn that charisma.

The bald, burly man saw Aoki Tsukasa standing silently and shook his head helplessly, deciding to teach this kid a lesson and let him realize the difficulty.

“Aron!” he called out. Not far away, a young man sporting trendy dreadlocks stopped lifting his dumbbells and walked over, dripping with sweat. “Yama, what’s up?”

Matsuyama Yama pointed at Aoki Tsukasa. “Help him put on the protective gear. In a moment, you two will get in the cage for a one-minute match. He’s applying for a mid-level sparring partner position.”

Aron was momentarily stunned, glanced at Aoki Tsukasa, and thought this guy had an impressive presence, though he didn’t look all that tough. He hesitated, then whispered, “Are you sure you want me to really fight him?”

“Just make sure he realizes the difficulty. Don’t hold back, but don’t go overboard either,” Matsuyama Yama replied, then turned calmly to Aoki Tsukasa. “He’s one of our fighters, currently preparing for the Japan Youth Combat League. You don’t need to do anything spectacular, just last a minute in the cage and you’ll be qualified as a mid-level sparring partner.”

Aron gave Aoki Tsukasa a ferocious grin. “Don’t worry, I won’t go too hard on you.”

Aoki Tsukasa nodded expressionlessly, not saying much. Aron shrugged at Matsuyama Yama, raising his eyebrows as if to say he hadn’t managed to intimidate him. Matsuyama Yama simply told him to take Aoki Tsukasa to get changed.

Aoki Tsukasa wasn’t deluded enough to think he could take on the world or even easily defeat the near-professional standing before him. In truth, he was nervous, wondering if he was being overconfident. But having already learned the skill, there was no turning back. He gritted his teeth and followed Aron.

Aron led Aoki Tsukasa to the gear area, tossed him a pair of shorts and a numbered key, and pointed to a nearby changing room. “These shorts are mine, just borrow them for now. When you come out, I’ll show you how to put on the protective gear.”

Aoki Tsukasa didn’t mind, took the shorts, and entered the changing room. Unlocking a locker with the key, he took off his shirt and gazed at his own solid eight-pack abs and well-defined, though not exaggerated, pectoral muscles. He sighed deeply, but the thought of earning five thousand yen an hour if he lasted a minute quickly sobered him up. Slapping his face to clear his mind, he dressed carefully, storing his clothes, pants, and shoes in the locker. Stretching his body, he walked out of the changing room.

Outside, Aron was stretching his legs for a warm-up. Seeing Aoki Tsukasa emerge, he couldn’t help but whistle. “Bro, didn’t expect you to have such a physique.”

Clothed, Aoki Tsukasa’s build wasn’t obvious—he even seemed a bit skinny. But now, stripped to the waist, his perfectly sculpted musculature radiated a wild beauty. Though not as exaggerated as a bodybuilder’s, the muscles were solid, seemingly devoid of fat. The slanted shark muscles alongside his abs were sharply defined; if he were bulkier, he’d look like a veritable muscle demon.

Aoki Tsukasa forced a smile. He was extremely nervous, his exceptional intellect working overtime to absorb and organize everything he knew about MMA, including fleeting memories from using the Genji Takitani experience card before. He only hoped he could last as long as possible.

Aron took out some bandages and taught Aoki Tsukasa how to wrap his hands, put on gloves and a helmet. Once he was properly geared up, Aron led him into a recently vacated octagon cage.

“Kid, get your head in the game,” Aron said with interest, flexing his fists, his gaze as predatory as a snake’s. “You spent five minutes changing—don’t tell me you can’t even last one minute in the fight.”