Chapter 10 - Battle! Shiryu of the Rain
Heavy, deliberate footsteps echoed from the stairwell, each one like a drumbeat in Domino's chest. The corridor was thick with tension, every shadow seeming to stretch and breathe on its own.
Domino swallowed hard. Her fingers trembled as she held the key in her gloved hand, but she forced herself to move forward. She reached the cell door—the one that had stayed sealed for far too long.
Click.
The key turned with a finality that sent a chill down her spine. With a sharp creak, the thick metal door swung open.
Out of the darkness stepped a tall man clad in the standard Impel Down officer's uniform, though time and rust had dulled the sharpness of its lines. A pilot's cap rested atop his head, casting his eyes in shadow.
Shiryu of the Rain.
He took one slow step into the light, the creaking door groaning shut behind him. His mouth curled into a sinister grin—a smile devoid of warmth, laced only with malice.
"That man is extremely powerful. Please, you must—" Domino began, her voice taut with urgency.
She didn't get the chance to finish.
In a blur of movement, Shiryu's arm shot out and wrapped around her throat like a steel vice. The force lifted her off her feet, her boots kicking against the cold floor.
"Y-You... let me go!" she gasped, her hands clawing at his wrist. Her words came out in strangled bursts as her airway tightened.
Shiryu's grip tightened slightly, enough to make her vision blur. "Save your breath," he said coldly. "Hand me my blade—Raigū."
With a scoff, he snatched the katana from her loosened grasp—the jet-black blade he had once wielded to paint the halls of Impel Down crimson. Its edge shimmered faintly in the dim torchlight, hungry for blood. The katana seemed to hum with anticipation in his hand, as if it recognized its master.
"Oi, oi, what's with the infighting?" came a voice from behind them.
Shiryu turned his head slightly, his eyes narrowing as a new presence entered the room.
Nathan.
The young man strode in with casual confidence, hands in his pockets, expression unreadable.
The moment Shiryu laid eyes on him, he released Domino with a casual flick of his wrist. Her body hit the stone floor with a heavy thud, and she rolled aside, coughing and wheezing.
"So, you're the one who brought down Magellan," Shiryu muttered, his tone a mix of curiosity and menace.
Nathan offered a faint smirk. "Not bad, huh? I'm just here to knock down anyone who gets in my way—and walk out of this hellhole."
"Hmph. Magellan relies too much on his poison. Once you counter it, he's finished," Shiryu said, rolling his shoulders. "But me? I don't use tricks. One wrong move, and I'll take your head."
Nathan's eyes sharpened. "Yeah, you're definitely more of a pain in the ass. But I don't need tricks either—my fists hit harder than your fancy blade."
Without hesitation, he called upon the system again.
Ding! Host has successfully used the [Might Guy] character card. Possession uses remaining: -1.
Chiyo's presence faded, replaced by a surge of heat and explosive power. A wave of chakra flooded Nathan's limbs—raw, untamed taijutsu energy. The force was overwhelming, igniting every muscle fiber in his body with Might Guy's legendary intensity.
He exhaled slowly, steam curling from his mouth like smoke from a furnace.
This is the right power to face a monster like him, Nathan thought.
"I'm ready," he said, lowering his stance. "Let's see what you've got."
Shiryu didn't wait. In a blur, he launched forward—his figure vanishing from sight, replaced by the glint of steel.
Raigū came down in a vicious arc.
"Die!"
The blade screamed through the air, slicing it with such force that the pressure alone threatened to split stone. The dungeon seemed to hold its breath.
"Eight Gates Release: Gate of View—Open!"
Nathan roared as green chakra burst from his body, swirling and crackling with unrestrained power. His muscles swelled with energy. His skin flushed. His veins lit up with blinding light.
Then he vanished.
Raigū missed by a hair. The blade sliced clean through the sleeve of Nathan's coat, barely grazing his arm, before slamming into the stone behind him.
CRACK!
The impact split the ground. The floor exploded beneath the strike, shards of stone launching into the air. A jagged fissure ripped through the dungeon, its edges glowing red with friction heat.
Nathan stood several feet away, sweat trailing down his temple. Even with the Sixth Gate open, he had narrowly evaded that strike.
That blade… it's no joke.
Shiryu's eyes widened for a fraction of a second. He had closed the distance at point-blank range. No one had ever dodged him like that.
But hesitation was fatal.
"Morning Peacock!"
Nathan's voice rang out as his fists blurred into motion. His arms moved faster than the eye could follow—dozens, hundreds of strikes in a single breath.
Each punch ignited the air, friction birthing searing fire.
Blazing trails lit the room, weaving together into a radiant tapestry. A fiery peacock spread its wings behind Nathan—magnificent, deadly, beautiful.
And it crashed into Shiryu like a meteor storm.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Each hit struck like a cannon blast. Flames flared with every punch, scorching cloth and searing flesh.
Shiryu staggered, his body flung backward again and again. Ten meters—fifteen—before he finally stopped, coughing soot and blood.
His uniform was shredded, blackened with burns. His cap was gone, hair singed. His face bore bruises and cuts. The cold, calculating swordsman was nowhere to be seen—only a battered man left standing.
"Haha! So that's it for you, Shiryu?" a voice jeered from behind the bars nearby. "Who would've thought? Both of Impel Down's top dogs brought down by a single inmate from Crimson Hell? What a riot!"
A man leaned lazily against the bars of his cell. He wore a ridiculous hat, a sausage-shaped nose dominating his face. His eyes were half-lidded with drunken amusement, and his breath reeked of alcohol.
Vasco Shot.
The infamous criminal chuckled again, clapping mockingly. "You lost to that brat? Man, what a joke."
Shiryu's blood boiled. Rage twisted his bruised features.
Without a word, he raised Raigū—and with a single, ruthless swing, he slashed at Vasco Shot through the bars.
The blade gleamed—merciless, unflinching.