The Ikusa Martial Arts Academy: A Battle School Quest

[Suzu]

0​

"It sure is nice to see so many fresh faces."

There was a classroom. For all intents and purposes, a simple classroom unlike any other. There were rows of ordinary desks, cleaned so thoroughly that their surface reflected everything like a mirror, a chalkboard that in reality was a cutting-edge touchscreen computer.

It was early spring, and the weather could only be described as "perfect for a picnic." As the cherry trees tat grew near the entrance gates were in full bloom, their petals danced in the air. The pleasant smell of freshly cut grass still lingered in the air.

A youthful-looking woman smiled, revealing her pearl-white teeth. A badge she wore had her name written on it - "Akira Kisaragi." She wore a beige suit that looked brand new and crisp and kept her brown hair in a simple ponytail.

"So nice, so nice," she repeated herself once more.

"That said," the woman added. Although her eyes appeared to be perpetually closed, no one could shake off the feeling that someone was measuring them. Or rather, there was a better way to describe it…

"It's really a shame… that about a half of you won't make it past the first year."

… They felt like a prey. As if they were in presence of a superior predator. In a situation like this, people react differently. Some people try to flee, to save their lives in desperation, but this wasn't the case here.

Instantly, the murderous aura completely filled the classroom as each student raised up to the challenge, pushing back against their teacher's dominating presence. Some of them even had the audacity to grin like madmen, while others simply coldly glared back.

Yet, at the same time, all of them shared the same thought:

I am going to take this bitch down a peg.

Akira Kisaragi, homeroom teacher of class 1-B, smiled wider, revealing two rows of shark-like teeth and said:

"I can't wait to see who will break first, you brats."

1​

In 2022, as various countries were on the brink of a war that threatened to swallow the entire planet, the most influential people of this world gathered together to find a way to avert the incoming crisis.

It is said that it took them twenty days to reach a conclusion they all could agree on: violence. Although some detested this decision whilst other cheered, a single decision was made.

From that point on, all disputes between nations were to be resolved not through negotiations or armed conflicts, but through something incredibly simple: one-on-one fistfights.

Thus, a new era was born.

The Independent Martial Agents

As the world began to change, humans with unique capabilities became sought after. Those were the people trained either in martial arts or taught the assassination skills, people to whom violence came as naturally as breathing.

While the original fighters were nothing more than a ragtag group of mercenaries, as the demand for them grew, they soon established an entirely new class of people – the independent martial agents.

Men and women who devoted their souls and bodies to becoming ultimate fighting machines, they all – ignoring a few rare exceptions – belong to a single organization that monitors their activities and acts an intermediary between their members and various contractors across the globe.

The Ikusa Martial Arts Academy

Established after the Great Reconstruction, this institution specializes in a single thing: producing greatest martial agents in the world.

Located on a man-made island, it is essentially a modern-day city-state that exists independently from any government. The island has everything that a potential student might need from general stores to medical clinics to various kinds of entertainment. In addition, it is a common practice for recruiters to scout for potential students across the globe to offer them a special scholarship.

However, compared to its overall population, only ten percent of students manage to graduate on their first try. It is said that such graduates can be automatically considered the elite fighters...
​

2

Who are you?

[] Name

[] Male | [] Female​

[] The street urchin.

You never who your parents were. Their names, their faces, the sound of their faces. At best, you could only remember vague details like the smell of booze or blood in the air.

You didn't know love or kindness. You had no idea what a gentle touch felt like. All you knew were words of abuse and violence. Each passing day was simply another fight in the name of survival, and that made your heart sharper than any knife.

When the academy recruiter offered you a chance to escape this hellhole, you agreed without thinking.

[Fighting style: street-fighting. Permanent bonus to Power*]

[] The inheritor.

Your family's history is one of violence. For generations, your ancestors studied the way human body worked to refine their fighting styles in search of perfection. You can say this is simply in your blood, and when the demand for skilled martial artists grew, your family soon became much wealthier than ever before.

As far as you could remember, there wasn't a single day you weren't forced to train. It was obvious since you were expected to become the next head of the clan, but in the same time, you felt incomplete. As if you were missing something.

Maybe you could find what was wrong with you somewhere different?

[Fighting style: aikido. Permanent bonus to Technique*]

[] The superhuman.

You were always called a prodigy, a superhuman, even. You were always faster, stronger, better than your peers no matter what sport you picked up. It was simply something you did, something that made you you.

By the age of fourteen, you could match full-blown athletes in their chosen fields, to the pride of your parents. No matter what you attempted to do, you were showered with praises and adulation, but it wasn't enough.

You weren't content with simply being the best physically. You wanted to try your abilities against other people in a more… intimate manner.

[Fighting style: boxing. Permanent bonus to Speed*]
​

---

*An explanation:

This quest has a very simple system. You have three main stats:

Power represents your physical might as well as your toughness. It has direct effect on how much damage your attack can cause.

Technique represents your mastery in martial arts and dictates how easy it is for your to parry an attack or redirect a blow.

Speed represent how many blows you can do in a single attack and how fast you can disengage an opponent.

As a rule of thumb, power-types can easily tank and tire out speed-types, but their attacks can be redirected and parried by technique-types, who can get overwhelmed by speed-types.

This rule, however, is not absolute as there exist hybrid-types as well as exotic martial arts styles that might negate any advantages.

In the end, it boils down to individual fighters and their compatibility.

P. S. I accept votes as plans.​

 

[Suzu]

0
​

"Odd."

Watanabe was an intimidating man. Two-meters tall, with a body that resembled a marble statue and hands that resembled a pair of spades and a voice that could make even a seasoned combatant shake like a leaf, he looked like the perfect example of a martial agent.

And yet, betraying his frightening appearance, this mountain of a man was preoccupied with something perfectly mundane: trivial paperwork. His reading glasses firmly secured on his face, Watanabe made sure to examine every document with utmost care - he took his duties as school secretary very seriously, after all.

"Very odd," he said after reading through a particular student application once more.

He put down his glasses, loosened his beige necktie and scratched his shaved head with a branch-like finger. His flattened nose scrunched a bit in confusion, which made him look quite comical.

"No known relatives," the secretary muttered, staring at the ceiling of his office. "No formal training, either." He was too lost in his thoughts to notice a fly land on his forehead. "You can say his instincts are above-average, and so are his physical capabilities. Still, for all intents and purposes, that boy is just another street thug, which begs the question: why would the principal personally insist on enrolling someone from the Outside?"

The Outside. The term Watanabe - and other Martial Agents - used to describe people that weren't in any way or form associated with their world. In other words, the "normal" folk.

Even if the person in question was a "street thug" and thus had to sometimes use violence, there was still the noticeable difference between them and an average student of Ikusa.

Watanabe breathed in through his nose, making his massive body shake, and froze up again. After a few minutes, three things happened: he reached a single conclusion and immediately run someplace different, the fly that was sitting on his forehead flew away in panic and... in another place, Goro Kisaragi finished off his hundredth challenger.

1
​

The Ikusa Martial Arts Academy's motto was simple: "the strong shall flourish."

To put it more bluntly, its main aim was to produce "people who are strong." Thus, to encourage the students, the academy's principal implemented a single system that dictated: "a student's position is determined through their rankings."

Each and every student had a set of points that determined their rank amongst their peers, and the higher this rank was, the more privileges they had. From expensive clothes to food made by professional chefs and luxurious cars, everything was within their grasp.

But how could a student gain points? The answer was simple: through battle. By wagering their own points, students could double them by defeating each other in combat, asserting their dominance and power.

And at the top of this twisted system stood a single man.

His name was Goro Kisaragi, the Absolute Predator… born in the same town as the mystery student.

2​

"Hey, hey, didja hear 'bout this year's fresh meat?"

A boy said as he swiftly blocked a punch using a padded glove. He had a carefree smile on his face as he made some small talk with his sparring partner.

"Apparently, they're quite a colourful bunch," he chuckled, blocking a jab with one gloved hand. His entire posture seemed incredibly lax, as if he barely paid any attention to the training. "A bunch of monsters, that is."

"How so?" his partner asked.

"Well, for one," the boy chuckled as he ducked under a roundhouse kick, "they have the principal's grandson, and you know what the principal is like."

"A monster."

The boy nodded and said: "His son is quite something as well. They call him the King of Battles for a reason, after all. This all means there's a good chance the girl can be – well…"

"A monster born from monsters."

"A monster squared!" he smiled, feeling proud.

"Pretty sure that makes it a monster cubed," his partner corrected as he made a few half-hearted jabs.

"The rumors are, he managed to take down his instructor. In twenty-five seconds, no less."

"He sounds like trouble," the sparring partner said.

Andrey Vasilevsky
[The Immeasurable]
Rank: Fourth
Points: 12.258.300​

"You catch my drift," the boy smiled wildly, "As proper senior students, it's our duty to rip his fangs out before someone does it for us. Gently, of course."

Antonio Silva
[The Python]
Rank: Seventh
Points: 9.810.000​

The two of them shared the same half-crazed look in their eyes that made every single student in the gym flinch for a second.

4​

"Now," Miss Kisaragi – your homeroom teacher – started her explanation. "As you know, our school has a system that determines your personal standing. It can be vaguely separated into two parts."

She used a tiny stylus to write two words: "points" and "rank."

"Firstly, there are your points. While the academy does provide you with living quarters and daily meals, that's it. I have to make something clear: normal money is as good as toilet paper on this island. If you want something nice, you need to pay with your points."

She looked at her students and bared her teeth. "You might wonder: "how do I get points, then?" The answer is simple: you fight. The proud tradition of this academy is that you can challenge any student at any point. To do that you need to wager a certain amount of points, with your opponent doing the same. If you win, you get the double of what you wagered, and the guy you managed to beat up loses his. Of course, you have the right to refuse when challenged, but that means you get penalized."

Idly, you wondered what this penalty was, but the look your teacher gave you told you that the only way to learn was through real life practice.

"There's more, naturally. Another thing you can do to earn some extra points is to bet them on the outcomes of other people's fights. In our world, it's very important to both know as much as possible about your competition and measure their abilities accordingly."

"As for your ranks," she tapped the second word. "It's based on the amount of points you possess at the moment. It also determines what tier you are in. The higher your tier is, the better you get treated. Now, this also includes another good tradition of this pride establishment."

"The weak have to obey the strong."

5​

Name: Kyou Onishima
Title: [None]
Style: Street-fighting
Rank: Undetermined
Points: Undetermined
Stats:

• Power: *****
• Technique: *
• Speed: *

*Endurance:

[] [] [] []

Traits:

[] Heavy-hitter. The strength of your fists is enough to dent steel. (Gain a permanent bonus to Power.)

[] Gentle touch. You can catch a flying insect in one motion. (Gain a permanent bonus to Technique.)

[] Like a lightning. The speed comparable to that of a car. (Gain a permanent bonus to Speed.)

[] The wall. Your muscles and even your skeleton are like an impenetrable armor. (Gain an additional Endurance cell)

[] Thundering demon. Summon inhuman strength that lies dormant within every human. (You can sacrifice one of your Endurance cells to boost two random stats.)

[] Knowing eye. Whether through training or pure instinct, you can recognize flaws and strength of a particular style more easily. (Reveals more information about a fighter at a faster rate)

[] Fighting instincts. You have an almost unbelievable aptitude for martial arts. (Learn other styles faster)

[] Dirty business. There's a thing you excel at: hurting people. (Higher chances of inflicting an injury)

[] Devil's luck. You bastard. (Blessing of the goddess of luck)

Weaknesses:

[] Fractured bone. An old wound that takes some time to heal properly. (Gain a temporary deduction from Strength) (Incompatible with Heavy-hitter)

[] Damaged inner ear. It's not as bad as it could be, but your fine motor skills leave a lot to be desired. (Gain a temporary deduction from Technique) (Incompatible with Gentle touch)

[] Injured knee. You aren't going to run marathons any time soon. (Gain a temporary deduction from Speed) (Incompatible with Like a lightning)

[] Frail body. As good a fighter you are, there are just some things you can't overcome through training. (Incoming damage is heightened) (Incompatible with The wall)

[] Clueless. There are simply some things you can't understand even when someone explains them to you. (Deducing an opponent's style and weaknesses takes more time, harder to learn other styles) (Incompatible with Knowing eye or Fighting instincts)

[] Universe's toy. You poor bastard. (The goddess of luck hates you) (Not incompatible with Devil's luck)

Hidden trait:

[] Sins of our fathers. (???)

[] Echoes of the past. (???)

[] Potential within. (???)

[] None.

---

This is where the prologue ends. All you need to do this time is to decide what one trait, one weakness and one hidden trait your character has.

*Your endurance decides how many hits you can take before you fall. All fighters start with two cells. Their number rises together with your Power. (Power / 2 = Additional Endurance Cells)

I accept votes as plans this time as well.