Bang—!
With a thud, Kanoh Agito flew across the dojo, landing on the floor.
He rolled and quickly got up, taking a stance, but his opponent had already stopped attacking and tossed him a bottle of water.
"Mr. Gusion, where do you think I fall short?"
Kanoh Agito asked curiously. He'd never met anyone like Gusion, who completely upended his worldview.
He thought he'd already reached the world's peak, like a climber who'd conquered Everest and found no worthy opponents. His evolution had stalled.
But now, he realized there were even higher peaks, far above anything he'd climbed before, reigniting his fighting spirit.
"Where do you fall short?"
Gusion took a sip of water and smiled.
"Everywhere."
He wasn't trying to discourage Kanoh Agito, but after arriving in this world, he felt a bit disappointed.
The Origin Seed hadn't caused major changes in this world—maybe not enough time had passed. Kanoh and the others were still essentially human level.
So Kanoh's stats weren't higher than his, and as for technique, to use a skill-rating analogy, Gusion felt Kanoh was just at the master's threshold.
Raian, after some training, was at the peak of expert level.
Yes, Gusion realized that the rating system for combat proficiency in the End Space was surprisingly valuable.
Just from sparring, Gusion felt he'd had better fights in the Shinigami world, where many had higher stats and centuries of experience.
After the polishing from the Captain-Commander and a final battle with Unohana, plus the use of the training field's mirror function, his combat specialization had improved tremendously.
Several core skills had broken through level 25 in the master domain. By comparison, Kanoh was maybe level 10, and Raian, after training was barely at the master level.
The rating system gave a reference—a higher level meant higher damage bonuses—but pure numbers didn't define a martial artist's true level.
Understanding martial arts, judgment in battle, intuition, and perception of power flow all determine a fighter's strength. Kanoh wasn't weak, and his numbers weren't much lower than Gusion's, so why could Gusion easily block his punch?
The answer was their realms were different.
When Kanoh punched, Gusion's intuition allowed him to grasp the flow of force and subtly sense the points of power.
His master once said that ancient boxers could see through an object's core and understand the principle of power flow. At that level, even a small force could shatter a huge rock.
Conversely, if you reached this realm, even if someone with great power punched you, you could analyze and control the flow, pinpoint the point, and easily suppress it.
So when Gusion caught Kanoh's strongest punch without moving, it wasn't because he was much stronger, but because he had mastered martial arts.
He didn't overwhelm Kanoh with brute force but blocked with skill.
To ordinary people, this might sound esoteric or mysterious, but Gusion could do it.
The cruel thing was that this kind of skill was almost impossible to teach—it required not just experience, but talent.
So, even if another explorer had the same level 25 mastery, they couldn't do this if they didn't have the intuition to sense the point of power.
Gusion's combat intuition was what allowed him to achieve the impossible in the Shinigami world. Otherwise, Captain Unohana, a genius with a thousand years of experience, would never have been beaten in technique.
In terms of specialization, she was higher, but Gusion won by intuition.
"Everywhere, huh... Never thought I'd be told that," Kanoh said, not disappointed. He wasn't talkative or good at expressing emotion, but after a day of sparring, he'd realized his shortcomings.
He understood that Gusion had both superhuman physiques like Wakatsuki and perfect technique, making him peerlessly strong.
He couldn't change his own body, but he believed his technique could still improve because now he had a new mountain to climb.
"You two love fighting, huh? Been at it since morning?"
A pleasant female voice sounded at the dojo entrance. Gusion and Kanoh turned to see Katahara Metsudo's daughter, Katahara Sayaka.
"Sorry, I was the one asking Mr. Gusion for guidance," Kanoh said honestly, respectful to his benefactor's daughter.
Gusion looked at Sayaka, a twenty-something with a tall, curvy, healthy, tan body and an energetic aura.
He recalled she would later be the tournament's host—a capable and crowd-pleasing girl.
He couldn't help but tease: Metsudo was something, having a daughter in his seventies!
"Mr. Gusion, here's the information you wanted."
Though they'd only met twice, Sayaka's tone was friendly, but not unpleasant. That was her talent—getting along with everyone.
"Thanks, Sayaka."
Gusion took the file, flipping through a few pages and quickly understanding.
It was the result of a joint Kure clan and Metsudo investigation—comprehensive and highly reliable. Together, their efficiency was unmatched.
It had been less than 24 hours since he'd made the request.
"There's been an unusual individual in the Kengan Association recently. Are you looking for them for a reason, Mr. Gusion?"
Sayaka asked, aware of Gusion's intentions.
Kanoh also looked at Gusion, curious.
"Of course—to eliminate anomalies."
Gusion put away the file, already knowing who to look for. Though many fighters had gotten stronger recently, the most abnormal was the new fighter for Koyo Academy Group —Kiryu Setsuna.
He remembered Kiryu well—not for his strength, but his sheer creepiness.
In the original, Kiryu was the protagonist's super stalker—strong, warped, and remorseless. He'd expected Kiryu to be the main rival in the finals.
But the story had subverted expectations, and the background character Kuroki Gensai had easily dealt with Kiryu.
If Kiryu had obtained the seed, he'd be even more dangerous, and couldn't be judged by his original strength.
Given the recent string of explorer killings, everything made sense. He'd thought it was a rule-breaker, but it was probably Kiryu since his beloved Ohma was dead.
Gusion didn't underestimate explorers—if Kiryu could kill so many high-level ones, he must've gained a lot of power.
Luckily, he'd used his brain on this mission, leveraging connections to quickly lock onto the target. It had only taken six days, and the tournament hadn't even started. At this point, Kiryu shouldn't have grown too much yet.