So, in striking there is 'long range', where straights and jabs rule. For an MMA fighter, that's all the ranges that exist. If he gets closer it's strangle time.
For a boxer, though, there's an inner range, where the rules stop someone from grabbing you, so you can throw turning punches, hooks, uppercuts, etc. That's why if you ever bet on a match where some MMA guy is taking on a boxer in a boxing match, you bet on the boxer even if he's a youtube clown.
Pictured: MMA Guy Anderson Silva, apparently just now figuring out hooks and uppercuts exist en route to a decision win over boxer Julio Chavez Jr.
Not really, of course, hooks, uppercuts, all kinds of up close and personal punching can and does take place in mixed martial arts and those guys n gals train for that.
Now, in general a boxer is the smart money bet over an MMA fighter in a boxing match but it's not because boxing has some kind of special short range punching techniques, it's like someone who's trained and competed in triathlon vs a sprinter in the hundred yard dash, smart money bet is the sprinter.
Pictured: MMA Guy Anderson Silva, apparently just now figuring out hooks and uppercuts exist en route to a decision win over boxer Julio Chavez Jr.
Not really, of course, hooks uppercuts, all kinds of up close and personal punching can and does take place in mixed martial arts and those guys n gals train for that.
Now, in general a boxer is the smart money bet over an MMA fighter in a boxing match but it's not because boxing has some kind of special short range punching techniques, it's like someone whose trained and competed in triathlon vs a sprinter in the hundred yard dash, smart money bet is the sprinter.
Gaolang is compelling to me because he's such a mood contrast to every other character. This is a series where characters enjoy fighting, and wear that fact proudly on their sleeves: Sekibayashi, Cosmo, Saw Paing, the list goes on.
But even in the heat of battle, Gaolang Wongsawat has such sad eyes.
I have to live with Ben Askren (who I do not think has thrown a single punch in his entire combat sports career) deciding to grab the standard of MMA and run jaw first into Logan Paul's fist for the rest of my life, why should Boxing get any fairness?
I expect we'd get a bit too off topic if we got into it, but suffice to say I think people who fight in sports where grappling is allowed mostly only throw jabs and straights. You clearly disagree, fair enough, I expect we both watch the same stuff, whichever of us is the liar can live with their conscience.
In any case, KA's version of MMA has no weight classes, so Kaneda is just absolutely in the soup here. I'm dubious that even if he achieves a proper hold Gaolang can't just power out of it. He's like a kid trying to fight his dad.
I expect we'd get a bit too off topic if we got into it, but suffice to say I think people who fight in sports where grappling is allowed mostly only throw jabs and straights. You clearly disagree, fair enough, I expect we both watch the same stuff, whichever of us is the liar can live with their conscience.
I'm gonna be honest, I've been covering MMA professionally for over a decade and that's just incorrect. Relatively few MMA fighters have strong jabs and a lot of fighters, especially heavyweights and grappling converts, can't throw straight punches to save their lives. Thiago Santos arguably deserved an upset decision over Jon Jones, one of the greatest to ever do it, without throwing a single jab. My favorite MMA fighter throws about 20 hooks for every somewhat-straight punch.
I'd wager that if you took every MMA fight and broke down their strike totals, overhand rights alone would outnumber jabs.
And it's not necessarily "strangle time" when you get to close range. There are lethal infighters in MMA and an entire sub-discipline referred to as "dirty boxing" that revolves around using knees, punches, and elbows at point-blank range to brutalize opponents against the side of the cage. Standing clinch work is an enormous part of MMA; just look at the clinics Anderson Silva, Wanderlei Silva, and other Muay Thai specialists ran in the clinch.
Plus, the rules don't actually stop boxers from grabbing each other. Excessive clinching is a foul, yes, but tons of top fighters use smothering clinches to neutralize opponents. Floyd Mayweather, Tyson Fury, Amnat Ruenroeng (to keep the Thai example), Roberto Duran, Andre Ward, etc. Fury, if you'll recall, completely failed to out-muscle former UFC champ Francis Ngannou in the clinch thanks to Ngannou's strength and MMA experience.
Kaneda has done it. Technique and judgement came together in one sublime moment, and the God of War has been cast down to the base earth. Now, with his arm in hand, Kaneda has just to-
From such an unstable position, with Kaneda's full weight on his arm, Gaolang could still summon the strength to blow him away. And this isn't an Adam situation, we have no reason to believe Gaolang's strength is anything but natural. Simple technique, and the synthesis of clear judgement and reaction speed.
He isn't panicked, either. There's no expression of disbelief or incredulity on his face. For all his pride, for as little as Gaolang respected Kaneda, he is not shaken by the turnabout he just experienced. Could this be another Wakatsuki? I don't think so, Gaolang's attitude isn't quite the same, but there's a similar lack of hesitation. For all he did actually misjudge Kaneda's strength, Gaolang hasn't lingered on it for an instant, he simply acted to fend off his foe.
Kaneda wasn't expecting anything like this. He claims he's glad he saw this early, but…it may not matter. He's back in neutral. And Gaolang isn't fucking around. He charges Kaneda again, forcing the smaller man onto a complete defensive, and notes once more how he's missing his targets again. Can this man truly be following his fist?
But again, he is no cringing villain howling "Impossible!" the instant the fight is less than trivial. Kaneda picks his moment as the Flash ends, throwing a punch, but with immaculate ease Gaolang evades and counter-hooks in the same fluid motion. Kaneda reels with a fist-shaped welt in his cheek, spewing blood. But he does not fall. Gaolang, expectations defied again, begins to believe. How amusing, he thinks, as he converts the counter into a rain of hammerblows. An assault so ferocious Sayaka compares it to a bombing run. Kaneda bears with it, demands his body bear with it, the opportunity will come. It has to. And it does.
For Gaolang. Kaneda's foot slips. And for a single instant, his posture is fixed.
Is it just me, or does Gaolang seem surprised?
It's a clean bodyblow. Kaneda's eyes bug out of his skull as Gaolang extracts his fist and lets the smaller man fall to the floor. The boxer backs off, and studies his fallen foe. He doesn't say a word, but there's a shift in his expression.
Well done, he thinks.
Images rise in his memory. Quote unquote "champions" he'd defeated in the past. A man on the world stage who tried to raise Gaolang's hackles before the match even started, putting on an absurd, ranting performance. Presumably out of mindgames, to try and enrage Gaolang and blunt his fist. He thinks of the hero of South America, who approached him with a proposal. A fixed match, make them both a bunch of money. And he thinks of the world champion, who refused every one of Gaolang's challenges, to keep raking in money from his usual fights.
The Thai God of War broke every single one of them. All bark and no bite, to a man. And he's fought many like them. It all comes back to what he thought last chapter, about this very tournament. Fools and children, leaning on gimmickry, mindgames and raw physique.
Not Kaneda though. As he turns away Gaolang celebrates Kaneda Suekichi's strength of will. He's impressed, genuinely.
But Kaneda is not done.
The slip of a man seethes with indignation, even as his teeth grit and his eyes bulge against the pain. Some champion you are, he says. Is this how you treat your opponents? He points out that Gaolang didn't follow up that last blow, and if he had that would have been it, and asks if he went easy on him because he's weak. Clearly he did, but the answer isn't the point, this is a lecture. It's rhetoric. Kaneda is laying out the core theme of this match.
Kaneda describes himself as a fan of Gaolang's actually. He's watched his matches thousands of times even before he knew they'd fight. He's seen how Gaolang fights, shackled by the restrictions of Boxing. Surely he can do better now he's been released? Gaolang doesn't so much disagree as he steps past the point entirely. He compliments Kaneda again, verbally this time now that he knows the young man is conscious, on his drive. He admits he was wrong to scorn this tournament, that it's a pleasant surprise to find a warrior like Kaneda. But the fight is as good as over. There's a vast gulf between them as fighters. And, expressly, he does not want to kill Kaneda.
Kaneda, spitting blood with fury, clarifies that's exactly the point. He knows. Of course he knows he isn't gifted. But this is all he has, this is his life's work. He laments how everyone does this, refuses to take him seriously, marks him with that label and uses it to justify going easy. And, with the full force of his spirit, he screams at Gaolang.
What's wrong with the weak seeking to be strongest?
Gaolang's expression here is important, I think. This genuine, earnest look, a cocktail of surprise and dawning comprehension is crucial in the face of the judgements he's expressed so far for what follows. Because when Saw Paing leaps from his seats, inspired to a frenzy by Kaneda's hot-blooded will, and howls at Gaolang to let him have it? The God of War agrees.
And apologises. Sincerely.
He hadn't considered Kaneda a warrior, by his own lofty standards. Looked down on him as fragile. Thus, he hadn't fought as a warrior. He'd only fought as he does in his boxing matches, which he acknowledges as a mistake. By his own belief system, by his own judgement of what it means to be a warrior, he should have fought Kaneda full force. He showed Kaneda pity, and in so doing humiliated him. This, and this alone, Gaolang credits as arrogance on his part, and promises to show respect to Kaneda by obliterating him at full force. Saw Paing is very excited, to the detriment of the eardrums of everyone within fifty feet.
Himuro is rightly concerned, picking up the shift in Gaolang's attitude. The transformation from a sportsman into a Warrior. Kaneda is much more sanguine about it, thanking Gaolang out loud.
Now he can use his predictions.
The best mind games are the most sincere ones. I don't think Kaneda lied at all about his motivations, or played up his indignation. Indeed I don't think this is a trick at all. It's as Gaolang said, isn't it? Kaneda is battling his own weakness. And the next chapter immediately leaps into an explanation. Well, almost immediately.
After re-establishing our fighter's respective stances, we welcome back our regular section of the show, Facts with Kengan Asura. Today's subject? The Kujin style, and other arts like it. And why they're disadvantaged here.
Specifically, as is common to a lot of traditional South-east Asian martial arts, the Kujin style was developed not as an exclusive method of its own but to support another style on the battlefield. In this case, Kaisha Kenjutsu, in the unfortunate scenario where the warrior in question loses his weapon. It's a style that assumes both combatants are wearing armour, and thus places vanishingly little emphasis on strikes. Much more it is an art of disruption, crushing the opponent's balance with trips and throws, trying to get them on the ground so you can mount them and pull your knife.
By contrast, Boxing is very specifically an art of the fist. Specialised for unarmed…combat? Well, apparently its history goes back thousands of years, Kengan Asura claims its origins trace back to 4000 bc egypt. But some sources imply something like it is even older, placing its beginnings in prehistoric Ethiopia, as far back as 6000 bc. Presumably at that stage the point was likely real combat, so sure. The point here though, is to clarify that all else being equal, the art specialised for its context is clearly stronger within that context than one optimised for a different context.
Honestly I'm not sure why these pages exist, it's not like we haven't already been shown to my satisfaction that Kaneda is the underdog here. And it's an odd angle for it regardless, given the pre-existing issues of talent and physique.
Which leads in nicely to Kaneda's solution being neither of those, but rather his Foresight. The skill he demonstrated against Himuro, here framed as a third option when he's overwhelmed in physique and technique. Specifically, Kaneda's strategy is to think of the fight like a match of Shogi. A series of moves and countermoves. To formulate this strategy he pored over all available data on Gaolang, somehow extrapolating the speed of his fists without his gloves, which is kind of insane? And the only piece missing in his preparation was to calculate Gaolang's full strike force. Now, he has only to fine tune the sequence. In a situation where he knows full well that one clean blow will send Kaneda to la la land.
It is, apparently, perfect. Exactly what he wanted.
Do you see why I don't think this was a trick? This motherfucker's just as much of a fight nut as anyone else in this tournament, he just doesn't have the luxury of a powerful physique or sublime instincts to back it up. It's not just trying to get Gaolang to strike at consistent strength and speed (which would be futile anyway, any decent fighter knows not to be that predictable) its meeting him at his best and winning anyway. He's salivating to prove himself.
And thus, with that in mind, the fighters charge each other. And the final sequence begins.
Kaneda's first move is a bladelike thrust with his elbow, piercing Gaolang's afterimage as he darts around Kaneda like a phantom. He retaliates with a hook, striking naught but a phantom of his own. And nearly getting his eye poked out by a precisely placed thumb.
Gaolang backs off to keep his eyes, but everything proceeds as Kaneda predicted. He's already pivoting on his heel, planting one of his feet on Gaolang's much larger leading foot, and goes for the man's eyes with a two-fingered poke. The God of war parries it smoothly, and returns to the offensive.
He almost seems to blink through space now, straights and hooks all passing faster than the naked eye can see as Kaneda stays millimetres ahead, brow pinched in ungodly focus with sweat running down its creases like rivers. Two uppercuts, one after another, push Kaneda's upper body back and a right straight forces him to fall completely. He catches himself. Everything is still within his expectations.
Offence and defence perfectly merged. In the same motion as he hammered Kaneda's head into the floor, Gaolang ducked his kick. Goalang kept his promise. As consciousness fails him, Kaneda admits the ten-move checkmate he suffered. And laments that he couldn't go just a few moves further.
Gaolang stands, and muses to Kaneda's fallen form on the battle. It only lasted ten moves. His victory was all but a given, Kaneda stood no chance of victory. And yet, with a slight rephrasing, Gaolang presents a different interpretation. Kaneda managed to last an entire ten moves against Gaolang at full power. Against someone who completely outclassed him in every way. And there's value in that.
As he walks away, he congratulates Kaneda on a battle well fought. And calls him a friend. Match 15 is over, and so is the chapter.
I'm gonna be honest, when I think about Kengan Asura, this isn't exactly one of the matches that leaps to mind. Even in the first round. But it should be, because this shit slaps hard.
What we just witnessed is another match along the lines of Match 5 or 11. Another Wakatsuki or Kuroki, one of the frontrunners of the tournament has taken to the field. And as usual, that sort of match in a tournament arc presents a problem. You want to establish this character as in a completely different league, which requires they win and it not even be close, but at the same time that risks the match being exceedingly boring. Especially if you're doing it for multiple characters. There's only so often "and then he steamrolled the guy without resistance" can be interesting, after all. And to its credit, Kengan Asura has been very good at creating engagement in these fights. In Wakatsuki's case engagement was built in characterising Wakatsuki in advance, both earlier foreshadowing of his strength and scenes building his charismatic character immediately beforehand, and also in the presentation of the fight itself. The art sold his opponent as powerful, and the effort he put in, and then he blew the guy away. Kuroki's match leaned on subversion of narrative convention and emotional engagement. It channels Rihito's humiliation and our familiarity with him as a sort of rival figure to Ohma to place him in contrast with Kuroki's overwhelming skill and experience, challenging us to believe in an upset right up to the last moment. Even as, in the end, it turned out completely futile.
Match 15 performs something of a synthesis of the two. In the art of course Gaolang is almost never pressed, but when Kaneda takes him by surprise he mostly smoothly evades and then counterattacks, forced to reveal his poise and lightning fast wits. Kaneda pushes Gaolang in similar if lesser ways than Murobuchi pushed Wakatsuki. Moreover the core of its narrative is rooted in Kaneda's struggle. Similarly to Rihito, he seeks respect, but his issues are much more deeply ingrained in his history and body. And in the process, a classic dynamic in manga forms the emotional core of this match.
TV Tropes calls this idea Hard Work Hardly Works. I'm going to separate it into two related but distinct ideas, which I call the Manga Genius and the Manga Worker. They often, but not always, exist together in manga and you're probably familiar. The Manga Genius is a born winner. Usually unspeakably arrogant, unless it's a protagonist, and casually steamrolling any and all challenges before them almost entirely without effort. They will it, and it simply happens. The Manga Worker is the corollary to this, often a protagonist or not infrequently a major member of the supporting cast, they're the character who is very openly not naturally talented. In fact, stories that use the archetype often won't shut the fuck up about how untalented they are. But, by putting in the effort, they overcome the challenges before them, frequently including the Manga Genius. Who, of course, is a common antagonist for the Manga Worker. For a particularly egregious example of both of these ideas, see the main character of History's Strongest Disciple Kenichi, and uh…just about every single major antagonist. But for the purposes of this essay, let's specifically zero in on a character called Berserker. In short, an early antagonist in the series, he's never trained or lost a fight in his life. And in the process of beating him, another character says the following.
"One part talent may equal a hundred parts of hard work, but what if it's one thousand parts hard work? What about ten thousand? In the world of martial arts, hard work will always trump natural talent."
A nice sentiment, and one that's not entirely without truth in some respects. The premise at least, that hard work is important, is valuable.
The conclusion is, unfortunately, nonsense. And that fact is embodied in this Match.
Kaneda has undoubtedly worked incredibly hard, worked himself to the bone even. Born sickly and fragile, shit at all athletic pursuits, he's built up his physique to a level one can legitimately describe as impressive. Without particular talent he's pushed his coordination, insight and technique to a level that could stand up in the Kengan Matches. And where he is still lacking in those areas he pushes his spectacular mind to its limit to compensate. And by god it works, he beat Himuro after all, a legitimate badass in his own right.
The unfortunate reality of the situation, and something that so many shonen manga miss, is that Genius and Hard Work are not mutually exclusive. Gaolang is, by implication, a phenomenally talented fighter and is very obviously a fabulous physical specimen. But he's driven, he's a hard fucking worker. He, in all likelihood, trains every bit as hard as Kaneda. If in different ways. There is no one part talent and a hundred parts hard work, combat isn't an MMO where the gap can be overcome simply by grinding out enough mobs, it's all part of the same endlessly complex system of influences and impacts. Kengan Asura has made a statement here, just like it did with Rihito. You aren't going to overcome the better fighter just by wanting it enough, that's an offence against every fighter who's ever lost. And you aren't going to overcome a genius just by applying a million parts of hard work, because chances are good they work hard too. That's how you get olympic athletes after all, someone already suited to a sport trains until their fingers bleed.
So to speak. Don't actually damage yourself training kids, that's a good way to end your career early.
But of course, the match wouldn't be super interesting if it were just "Tell me to work harder again why don't you" followed by an echoing splat. Kaneda's efforts aren't enough to overcome Gaolang's, but the beating heart of this match is that those efforts still mean something. Kaneda earns Gaolang's respect long before the end for the fact he clearly understands Gaolang's strength but doesn't balk from it or deny it. He stands up straight and does his fucking damndest to overcome it head on, with his own unorthodox strength. It's an exceedingly honest sort of competition, exactly the sort Gaolang was built up the whole match to respect.
What's wrong with the weak seeking to be the strongest? Absolutely nothing at all, Kengan Asura says. And even when you fail, as you often will, the effort is worth celebrating. Hard Work won't necessarily always overcome Genius…but that's okay, and it's probably because the Genius knows better than to be lazy.
God, it's nice to have a match with only a minimum of problematic bullshit and a richness of hype, spiced nicely with the pleasant takedown of an annoying trope. This one was another banger, in my books.
That said, I suspect we have another one waiting in the wings. Join me next time for the cleanup of match 15…and the final match of round 1.
Lee is an interesting enough example since the conclusion the manga comes to is that there are gaps no level of hard work can overcome but striving to be the best anyway is worthwhile. Lee and Guy both lose in their most memorable fights but do so in a way that proves they've gone way further then anyone ever expected. I'd argue it's actually core to why people remember them so well.
It's the Rocky answer. Your underdog doesn't need to become the best in the world. But if he goes the distance that's impressive and uplifting in its own right. Rocky can't beat Creed but he gets his hits in and makes him take him seriously.
Because it was brought up in the latest chapter I'll rant slightly about Kenichi. History's Strongest Disciple Kenichi is a manga about tits and everyone's clothes falling off, occasionally a very interesting martial arts match will break out for unrelated reasons. The main character and the one we follow is Kenichi, a timid young man who goes to a dojo to learn some martial arts to defend himself from bullies at school. He chooses a local dojo in the neighborhood. Incidentally it is home to some of the greatest martial artists in the world, each a supreme master of their art, and the grandmaster who is the best in the world.
For various reasons Kenichi ends up accidentally picking a fight with the local kung-fu mafia, as one does, and then the international kung-fu mafia. While doing so he begins to train full time under his masters, moving to the dojo and spending 25 hours a day, 8 days a week, training. He needs to take on such an intense load because he's nominally untalented at martial arts.
And I'll give credit where it's due, the manga does sell that he is working insanely hard to reach the level that everybody else just kind of exists on. Early on Kenichi wins a lot of his fights thanks to sheer difference in physical conditioning and stamina more then any technical ability over his opponents. The dude is built like a lead brick and going up against weirdly well organized delinquints early on. It works for the most part.
The problem as the series goes on is that he keeps on facing more and more supposedly wildly talented enemies who are fully dedicating their lives to martial arts. Those delinquints turn into assassins and professional ninjas. Kenichi is beating them via being a perfect match to the particular philosophy of fighting practiced by his masters. His peaceful nature lets him pick up the peak of their techniques without much trouble. He has a fairly unbroken record of wins in death matches against a long list of people supposed to be geniuses.
That Berserker guy, who never trained and got beaten because Kenichi worked harder? He actually shows up again towards the end of the manga having been taken under the wing of a bigger bad and trained to refine his natural talent. And he's basically just another antagonist. There's no real payoff. All that stuff about how he has once in a lifetime talent but just never put in the hours goes nowhere.
And the manga won't shut up about how untalented Kenichi is despite it becoming very clear that his mindset makes him a prodigy at a very particular subset of martial arts which happen to be the strongest ones around. By the end he's on the verge of becoming a master after practicing for just two years.
The Manga Genius and the Manga Worker both have their places but need to be applied a lot more carefully then they often are. The Manga Worker needs to have a payoff to their lack of talent or else it just feels like a bunch of talk. They need to try as hard as they possibly can and then lose anyway. Or at least have some kind of demonstration of what they're struggling against. It's an easy archetype to establish and there's a lot of natural hype to it but the longer a story has to grapple with the tendency of protagonists to win the harder it's going to be to keep selling it.
What I actually find interesting about Kaneda here is that while there's some indulgence of the trope they also don't pretend that the man isn't a genius in his own ways. He's trying to close a fundamental gap in physical conditioning with the ability to read his opponents and transcendent skill. It doesn't work but this isn't something just anybody could do.
And in his monologue in the final fight I think Yamashita gives perhaps the most poignant and heartfelt tear down of the concept of the Manga Worker I've ever seen. It's a young mans dream. People drop out all the time for all sorts of reasons beyond their control. Health problems, finances, and family all draw people away from that idea that if they work hard enough they could be the best.
He wanted to be the strongest man in the world once but realized how impossible that was and got beaten down by life. It's why meeting Ohma, someone who has a real chance to go that far, lights such a fire in him. He might not get there himself but he can support Ohma right up until the end and that's worthwhile in its own right.
Kaneda using an impractical martial art for no reason takes me out of this fight's narrative a little bit. It's not like Sekibayashi, who is driven to use an impractical style because of his moral principles; he just… uses a style that's not very good for unarmed martial fights. For no reason.
And it's not like the Kujin Style is a household name. Kaneda could have found a jujitsu teacher a lot more easily than a guy who could teach him this relic of an art. It also doesn't fit Kaneda's character, since he's all about squeezing out the tiniest possible advantage to take on insurmountable opponents.
This is a Sayaka Appreciation Post. How many other women in shonen manga do you think are allowed to have this kind of expression without being evil somehow? Sayaka is great.
This fight, however, is fantastic. It's another instance of Kengan Asura at peak efficiency, showing us a jobber we can absolutely respect having his own story arc as he faces one of the strongest guys in the match.
A particular thing I like here is that once the final portion of the match starts, the Ten Move Checkmate bit, there's no dialogue anymore. No words or explanations, just the art selling you, blow by blow, how this fight goes. It's a testament to the confidence the story has that it completely gripped you, and that anything added to the scene would simply be bloat. These two fighters have arrived at the peak of their fight; to break it up with narration or dialogue would be almost an insult to itself.
Not that the writing is slouching any. Kaneda is of course the focus but Gaolang is just as well-written, starting the fight seeming like your regular arrugant superfighter but then immediately apologizing and correcting himself once he realizes he's been blinded by arrogance. He's not an asshole or a completely static stoic superfighter; he makes mistakes, he learns, and he respects the other fighters once he catches on. Next fight we might even see him make a third facial expression!
Honestly I'm not sure why these pages exist, it's not like we haven't already been shown to my satisfaction that Kaneda is the underdog here. And it's an odd angle for it regardless, given the pre-existing issues of talent and physique.
They're there, I think, more as a thematic beat than to establish Kaneda as an underdog. Neither man here has his style explained before this, and not coincidentally, Gaolang hasn't really considered this a fight up until this moment either. So now that they're going to have a proper fight, with both sides going into it, now the story finally bothers explaining what Kaneda's deal is, as is standard for fights in the story.
Not Gaolang's, though. We'll be leaving that for a different time.
But not next time, because next time comes The Man, The Legend... and he's fighting the Fang.
Kaneda using an impractical martial art for no reason takes me out of this fight's narrative a little bit. It's not like Sekibayashi, who is driven to use an impractical style because of his moral principles; he just… uses a style that's not very good for unarmed martial fights. For no reason.
And it's not like the Kujin Style is a household name. Kaneda could have found a jujitsu teacher a lot more easily than a guy who could teach him this relic of an art. It also doesn't fit Kaneda's character, since he's all about squeezing out the tiniest possible advantage to take on insurmountable opponents.
I interpret this as Kaneda realizing he doesn't have the best constitution for a more standard battle style. Throughout this whole fight, his moveset consists mainly of eyepokes, submissions, throws, and the occasional killshot; it's a fighting style entirely focused on throwing an opponent off-balance and landing one solid almost guaranteed blow that'll defeat them, as opposed to going into a longer fight or exchanging blows, which by virtue of Kaneda's weak constitution would put him at a solid disadvantage. He's working this in the way that gives him the least openings for his health to interfere with.
Kaneda using an impractical martial art for no reason takes me out of this fight's narrative a little bit. It's not like Sekibayashi, who is driven to use an impractical style because of his moral principles; he just… uses a style that's not very good for unarmed martial fights.
He understands that as an scrawny nerd with implausible analytical abilities, he will likely be isekai'd sooner or later. He has trained to fight armored oponents because he knows he will need to fight medieval knights.
As the arena thrums with the exhilarated shrieks and whoops of an audience that is getting exactly what it paid for, down in the Dome's depths things are significantly more…subdued. Kaneda is still unconscious, with a wet cloth draped over his head and a patch covering his probably-fractured cheek, watched over by a morose Himuro and Kushida. Kushida's expression is sad, but Himuro's silence has an edge of frustration to it.
"You need to forfeit," Himuro had said, before the match.
Kaneda had no chance of winning from the very start. Hell, Himuro would have had a better shot, had Kaneda not obliterated his elbow. Not necessarily because he's better in a 1v1 fight, but because his fighting style is a better matchup for a tournament setting.
Himuro understands now how he lost, Kaneda was analysing his style mid-fight until he could predict Himuro's attacks and dampen the damage, spreading and diverting it. But Himuro's good. Really good. And in that fight Kaneda got absolutely fucked the hell up. Oh he won, but before the tournament even started he had cracked ribs and all sorts of banged up organs. And as the tournament went on…even if he managed a win against Gaolang it would only have gotten worse. Himuro said as much to Kaneda, tried to persuade him to forfeit, that he might genuinely die if he fought in his condition. Kaneda brushed him off.
He's the man who defeated the one and only Himuro Ryo. Don't worry, he'll win.
It was a cute gesture. But, well, we all see how it turned out. It's nice though, to receive a reminder of Kengan Asura's attention to detail as combat damage goes. These people aren't fighting with weapons, but blunt force trauma is blunt force trauma and the human body doesn't like putting up with it. I have absolutely no doubt that Gaolang would have won either way, but keep this idea in mind going forwards. As we get deeper into the tournament, it won't just be the weaker fighters accumulating damage.
Kiss him anyway, you fool. Later, that is, when he's conscious.
Elsewhere in the dome, the other half of the losing team receives his own commiserations. Yamashita walks with Kenny, reflexively sorry for the man's loss, but to his credit Kenny is taking it well. But then, he's already met his minimum objectives for the endeavour. Yamashita's not sure what he means, of course, so he explains. It's like using an international sports event, the olympics or whatnot, as a place to strut your stuff. You get credit and publicity just for being in the roster. And hell, he doesn't mention it, but his fighter lost to THE Gaolang Wongsawat, one of the favourites to win the whole thing. That's got to blunt the sting of any negative repercussions! But yeah, Kenny's already made four business deals since he got here, so the five billion yen entry fee is already covered. Anything more is pure profit, baby. Like he said in chapter 23, you don't have to win you just have to do well enough.
That said, he can't pretend not to be disappointed. Himuro was the strongest fighter in his company's history, and Kaneda beat him. For a moment there he was captivated by the dream, he believed in the shot. And then, interestingly, he opens up his heart a little further and admits he might be jealous of the fighters. In contrast to the businessmen, whose lives are ruled by a thousand thousand little negotiations with numbers and markets, infinite complexity and compromises, the life of a fighters seems pure and clear. Possessed by a singular clarity of purpose and passion. Pure strength, self-improvement as an end in itself. It's not the first time the Businessmen and Fighters have been placed in direct contrast, but I wonder if the thematic implication that the fighters are nobler men, or at least more free men, is intentional. There's not really been any suggestion previously that the relationship is comparable like that.
Kenny goes on to muse that the fighters are still young, they'll be able to try again, implicitly admitting he is not and can not. Feeling his age some, I suppose. Regardless, Yamashita has a chance to be the shoulder supporting someone else's emotional cracks for once and he seizes upon it with warm grace. He pats Kenny on the back, in the closest thing this manga can get to men sincerely hugging each other, and reminds him that they still have a few more years in them yet. They walk off into the fluorescent light, as bros.
And now, with all said and done for match 15, we're here. The time has come. The master of ceremonies takes to the arena and rings in the start of match 16. The final match of the first round, and the first day.
The atmosphere is, immediately, completely warped. As one body the audience begin to stomp their feet. As one voice they begin to call for their champion. The force of it shakes the dome, the noise of it penetrates to the deepest reaches. In the midst of a post-match shower Gaolang looks to the ceiling in confusion as the walls and floor about him tremble with anticipation.
Down by the arena's floor Akiyama and Wakatsuki look on. The former notes how overwhelming this is, the pressure and force of it, and Wakatsuki agrees. Everyone there, every mote of sound forming the audience's collective voice speaks to one feeling. "The Fang will win." Even after watching every match so far that confidence hasn't even a hairline crack. No, it's more than confidence, Akiyama calls it faith. He has the upper hand in any mindgames before the match even begins. To this Wakatsuki doesn't even respond, his mind has already slipped into the past. To one of his two losses. A significantly younger, black-haired Wakatsuki squares up…and the Fang barely even cares. He calls this match a game, that he is simply humouring a Tiger's cub, and dares Wakatsuki to prove him wrong.
Obviously he failed. But today, today Wakatsuki has faith of his own. Now he has a fang with which to bite back. Sakura, who is also here eating a sandwich, reassures Akiyama that Wakatsuki is powerful enough to rival the Fang now. Revenge is still on the table.
But someone disagrees.
From behind them radiates powerful, ominous energy. Wakatsuki is immediately shaken out of his focus to react to it, snapping backwards to eye the approaching presence as it proceeds implacably down the entry corridor. He's mighty sorry, he says to Wakatsuki, but Okubo Naoya is taking the Fang's head today.
Akiyama is flabbergasted by the intensity of the man's sheer presence. It's nothing like how he was acting previously. And yeah, with the exception of Kuroki's match Okubo has mostly acted like kind of a goober. And surely he must mostly be kind of a goober, but now his head is in the game. Wakatsuki, a monster in his own right, weathers the pressure handily and offers Okubo a warning. Don't think of the Fang as human. He's more like a natural disaster. Okubo, rather than being the least bit intimidated, is enthused. So he's like a Monster, then? Good, good.
Polishes up nicely, doesn't he? It's a pleasant contrast to the idiot trying to pick up chicks with Rihito when they arrived. But then, that's all we've really seen of Okubo isn't it? We've been told he's a big public name, people have reacted to him as such, but we've not gotten any meaningful detail on him. It's all been word of mouth, mostly his mouth, and what behaviour he's shown. So with all that in mind, and this chapter ended, let's see what it actually means to be the King of Combat.
Chapter 111 begins by leading us into a critical moment in Okubo's career. An infamous little speech he offered, considered the bombshell at the center of the controversy around him. It was said in the midst of a documentary program, filmed just after he signed onto Ultimate Fight, the world's biggest MMA promotion. Presumably, and pertinently for what Okubo is going to say, an international promotion.
The reporters caught up with Okubo as was on his way home from the gym, and managed to persuade him into the company car, where he agreed to a quick interview. I suppose you don't need to be as concerned about being in a stranger's car when you're one of the best living fighters and it puts you within arms reach of everyone there. But what did he actually say?
His little spiel starts already pretty inflammatory. Reclined back in the car seat, arms smugly crossed, he says that there's a lot of desperate people out there. Desperate to make excuses. Japanese people don't have a hungry spirit, this. Our muscle composition is inferior, that. Japanese people can't beat foreigners, they say. And Okubo takes offence to that. He whips the arses of foreigners all the time.
So, Okubo summarises for the benefit of the audience, if you can't get anything done yourself? Just shut up and watch me, dumbass. Race doesn't matter.
Now for all the arrogance it was presented with, this is a fun little screed. Both for the general thrust of it, "stop acting like this or that race is superior or inferior you screaming assholes" is a good message generally, but also for the way it's in dialogue with so much manga. And not just other battle manga, shonen and otherwise, plenty of others, sports especially. It's incredibly common to see people of other ethnicities turn up in manga and be defined by just how Built Different they are. Now, a lot like tremendous size itself, it's a crapshoot how that'll actually turn out in a given series. Whether the difference in physique will be taken as objective fact and be this huge hurdle the protagonist has to overcome with grit and technique, or if the work will present the guy as a useless chump trying to coast on an irrelevant form of strength.
And really, is Kengan Asura even so different here? That's a genuine question, it's actually hard to tell. Take Adam Dudley, for example, Americans are often taken as the living tanks of the world in manga (for all they're actually shorter on average than a lot of european nations) but for all his physique IS special and powerful it's not exactly framed as a product of his race. Kind of the inverse, he's as successful as he is in his american-specific endeavours because of his unusual physiological properties. Or take Haruo, the asides in his match certainly present the Ghurkas as a specific ethnic group of unusual strength, but the man himself is presented as a freak of nature even to them. Black men are notoriously frequent victims of this kind of bio-essentialist thought, but did it really come up in Muteba's match against Meguro? It was certainly intensely problematic in a bunch of other ways, a lot of which were explicitly racial, but I don't remember him being presented as physically superior in any meaningful way. Hell, the biggest guy in the running is a German man whose scale and strength is explicitly artificial, the furthest possible thing from a product of natural genetics.
Once again Kengan Asura proves frustratingly difficult to pin down on a subject. It's certainly not above pulling essentialist treatment of race out of its ass, but all the same when Sandro's actually paying attention it does seem like it broadly avoids doing it? And, well, we've seen the first time it's been explicitly brought up as an issue.
With all that said, if human physiology really doesn't vary that much, why would Karla only succeed in a Kengan Women's Division? Why would that be the case Sandro, why can't women fight in the Kengan matches if people like Cosmo and Kaneda can? Why not Sandro? Look at me Sandro. Look at me. I said why not, Sandro.
Anyway, back to the subject at hand. Okubo's statement triggered a lot of discourse, including some very explicit racism, but Okubo isn't very Online so he mostly just shrugged it off and kept winning until he became the first Japanese Heavyweight Champion of Ultimate Fight. We return to the present with the suggestion that this is a story Wakatsuki's telling to the Akiyama sisters, concluding that Okubo silenced his critics with skill and strength alone, and a win record that holds its own even against Gaolang's. But all the same, he does feel some doubt, and wonders how far it'll get Okubo against the Fang of Metsudo.
And then, Sayaka begins introducing the fighters for Match 16. First, the self-styled rocky of Osaka, the champion of the Public Arena knocking on the door of the underground. The king of Mixed martial arts, he whose blows are incomparable, his throws lethal, his locks inescapable, and his holds instantaneous. With a match record of 26 for 26, without a single opponent surviving to the final round.
Arrogant? Certainly. Unjustified? Perhaps not. Immediately a bunch of fighters, explicitly including Kuroki, perk up like cats hearing the rustle of a bag of treats. Every one of them in unison thinking the same thing. This man is strong.
And then there's our local shitweasel Raian, thinking "this one will put up a bit of a fight" and "there's nothing like beating the shit out of strong guys." You fucking moron. I don't buy your hype even a little, get the fuck out of my sight.
That little aside leads us up to Ohma, who stares down into the arena with a kind of focus we don't see often from him. His eyes are narrowed, and he's leaning forwards with anticipation. Contemplating how he knew all along that among the peanut gallery. Himuro, Okubo, Rihito and Kaneda. Okubo was the strongest. And it wasn't even close.
Back down in the arena, Sayaka takes a deep breath, and thanks the audience for their patience. "That man" is finally making his entrance.
The entire arena goes silent, but for Sayaka's voice. Okubo feels the first hint of discomfort.
Some call him the Emperor of the Kengan matches, a man on a record-breaking 157 match win streak that began with his debut match. A legend built on a mountain of corpses. The entrance you've all been waiting for.
Those who were seeing him for the first time immediately recognised his overwhelming power. Those who already knew him trembled before his might once more.
Not just a small selection this time. Just about every fighter present has an immediate, visibly palpable reaction. Muteba does not smile. Cosmo sweats. Saw Paing's grin takes the strained, tense cast of a rictus. For once, for one glorious moment, even Kure Raian has the gormless, braindead grin wiped from his face before the Monster who just took the stage. Driving home how small he really is.
Up in Metsudo's observation box he's joined by the CEO of Muji TV, and Okubo's employer for the tournament, Atami Hisashi. And both are looking forward to the match. But the scene doesn't focus on them, instead it pivots to one of the Bodyguards. The masked fellow who's been here with Metsudo all along. We flash back with him to the grounds outside a palatial mansion, where dozens of yong boys stand in regimented rows at military ease. Before them, the end of a sparring match between the boy who would become the masked bodyguard, and Kanoh Agito. The masked boy, Taka, has a huge gouge running across his face. The flesh stripped from his cheek, from the corner of his mouth almost to his ear. Damage inflicted by Agito, with no apparent difficulty given how untouched the boy seems. How unimpressed he seems. Back in the present Taka seethes, apparently yet to give up on taking the position of Fang for himself. As ever, Metsudo finds it very funny.
Down in the Arena, Okubo doesn't seem terribly put out by the cheering for the Fang. For all he complains, his tone is more sardonic, and he quickly pivots to checking out Agito. Openly recognising the man's strength, to the point of suggesting he barely seems human anymore, with only a minimum of homoerotic "Daaaaaaamn" commentary. Arms crossed, with an easy smile, Okubo unboxes his nerd cred for a moment's thought. If Agito were a monster…he'd be Zetton, Okubo reckons. Hell of a beast, you know. He even defeated Ultraman once. I think Zetton looks really stupid myself, but that's beside the point. Okubo goes on to note that, in the end, Zetton was defeated by a human, you know.
And yeah. In a way, much as we've had various passages building heat for various players in the lead up to this, a decent portion of this entire round has been heat for The Fang. Wakatsuki's entire fight could be argued to be, in its way, heat for this. As could the actual structure - the Fang's placement at the bottom of match 16 defining the choices of how the entire tournament is arranged.
I don't think it's unfair to say, even now, that we can probably guess the outcome.
The King of Combat is facing a Monster. One exceptionally skilled in regicide.
That said, he can't pretend not to be disappointed. Himuro was the strongest fighter in his company's history, and Kaneda beat him. For a moment there he was captivated by the dream, he believed in the shot. And then, interestingly, he opens up his heart a little further and admits he might be jealous of the fighters. In contrast to the businessmen, whose lives are ruled by a thousand thousand little negotiations with numbers and markets, infinite complexity and compromises, the life of a fighters seems pure and clear. Possessed by a singular clarity of purpose and passion. Pure strength, self-improvement as an end in itself. It's not the first time the Businessmen and Fighters have been placed in direct contrast, but I wonder if the thematic implication that the fighters are nobler men, or at least more free men, is intentional. There's not really been any suggestion previously that the relationship is comparable like that.
I`d argue that the implication here is very much intentional. Kenny here is part of a very small group of CEOs in this story? a group that's more humanized, of which Kenny is generally the most human one. He was introduced looking like a regular guy getting drunk at a match, he's friends with Kazzy and rarely if ever lets the CEO mask slip on, and more importantly, he respects the fighters, even ponders if they might not be more noble than the CEOs. We've seen this come up before in smaller ways: back during Sekibayashi's match both CEOs were former fighters, and the entire match had been set up between them to teach Kiozan a lesson, because they knew how important a lesson that was. Rihito, who's both a fighter and a CEO, is treated as very human. Nishihonji, Cosmo's boss, regularly hangs out with the fighters and wants Cosmo to improve, even taking part in the analysis of fights for that sake. And the boss of Panasonic is childhood friends with Inaba.
There's other examples we haven't seen yet, but all of these guys are CEOs who are treated by the story as humans as well, and they're all close to their fighters in one way or another, so the story is drawing a clear connection between powerful people who respect these freer, nobler fighters, and people who don't. In contrast, the less a CEO cares about their fighter, the more ruthless they've been shown to be, even the nominal good guys such as Nogi. This all, I think, ties in to the overall message of the story: about staying true to your goals and ideals, about self-improvement and determination to see them through, even if you demonstrably cannot like we just saw with Kaneda. The narrative rewards sincerity and clarity of purpose, and to parallel that it casts a shadow, however light, on those who are very much not earnest and determined in that way. The story may love its CEOs, but it respects the fighters a lot more.
And then there's our local shitweasel Raian, thinking "this one will put up a bit of a fight" and "there's nothing like beating the shit out of strong guys." You fucking moron. I don't buy your hype even a little, get the fuck out of my sight.
Honestly this is one time where I think even the manga isn't buying its own hype? A lot of fighters that were already clearly and explicitly shown as stronger than Raian showed that they were concerned about Okubo; him suddenly doing this makes it seem like the manga isn't giving him that much respect for it.
But speaking of respect. Okubo is by far one of my favorite characters here. Maybe I'm just a sucker for the goofball who turns out to be one of the strongest people around, but also, I like how he remains a goofball throughout. His interview very much shows it with him talking super casually while making his inflammatory comments, showing that he's earnest in the belief those comments are about, and he also showcases it before this fight, with his comment about Zetton and his glibness at the crowd cheering for the Agito. Even at his most serious, Okubo remains a laid-back dude, and yet he is still one of the strongest fighters in the game. The series is about to put his strength to good narrative use here, and I for one am looking forward to rereading that. His fight kicks ass.
Also, as a sidenote, I'd just like to point out a funny bit of copyright avoidance, but apparently Okubo's interview was done by
