King of Games C80 Life and death game

Nogi leaned back in his chair, a glint of understanding in his eyes. "Very well, Suzuki-san. The Kengan Association can assist with providing the... necessary documentation for a large number of new identities. Our connections in various government offices should make this process smooth and discreet."

Shinro nodded, his face impassive.

Curiosity got the better of Nogi. "If I may ask, why do you need so many new identities? The scale is... unusual, even for our circles."

Shinro's gaze turned cold. "You don't need to concern yourself with the details of my business, Nogi-san."

Nogi raised his hands in mock surrender, a wry smile on his face. "Alright, alright. I suppose a young entrepreneur like you isn't as clean-cut as you appear after all."

Shinro remained silent, rising to leave. As he turned towards the door, Nogi's voice stopped him.

"One more thing, Suzuki-san. I can't help but feel... a great power emanating from you. It's unlike anything I've encountered before."

Shinro paused, turning back to face Nogi. His expression was thoughtful, weighing how much to reveal or acknowledge.

Shinro's eyes narrowed slightly. "Did Raian inform you of what I'm capable of?"

Nogi's smile widened, a glint of excitement in his eyes. "He mentioned something... intriguing. But you know how it is in our world, Suzuki-san. Words can only convey so much. I'm curious to see your strength, your martial arts prowess for myself. In the Kengan matches, true worth is measured in combat."

Shinro regarded Nogi coolly, understanding that for the Chairman of the Kengan Association, strength spoke louder than words. He decided to give Nogi a taste of what he was dealing with.

Without moving a muscle, Shinro released a wave of intent so potent that the air in the room seemed to thicken. His voice was cold and level as he spoke, "Be careful what you wish for, Nogi-san. Some demonstrations can't be taken back."

The effect was immediate. Nogi, a man accustomed to being in the presence of the world's strongest fighters, felt a bead of cold sweat form on his forehead. For a moment, he felt like prey in the presence of an apex predator.

However, he quickly regained his composure, his smile never fully fading. Years of dealing with the world's strongest fighters had honed his ability to maintain his cool under pressure.

"Impressive, Suzuki-san," Nogi said, his voice steady despite the palpable tension in the room. "But I've learned not to judge a book by its cover. Or in our case, a fighter by their aura alone."

Shinro's eyes locked onto Nogi's, a hint of challenge in his voice. "You really want to see what I'm capable of?"

Nogi nodded, his curiosity piqued. But before he could utter a word, a sudden gust of wind whipped through the room. In a flash, Shinro vanished from sight.

Nogi's eyes widened, his composure momentarily shaken. A chill ran down his spine as he felt a presence behind him. Shinro's whisper, cold and clear, cut through the silence: "You better not know, old man. Because you wouldn't like it."

Heart racing, Nogi spun around, but Shinro was already gone. His gaze darted to the front of the room, where he spotted Shinro calmly walking away, as if he'd never moved at all.

Nogi swallowed hard, a mix of fear and exhilaration coursing through him. In all his years in the Kengan Association, he'd never encountered someone quite like this. The display of speed and power was both terrifying and thrilling.

As Shinro's figure disappeared from view, Nogi couldn't help but wonder how a young entrepreneur had acquired such overwhelming strength. It defied everything he thought he knew about the world of fighters and business.

Despite the fear that still lingered, a spark of excitement ignited within Nogi. He had allied himself with a force beyond his understanding, and the possibilities both intrigued and unnerved him.

***

A month had passed since Nogi's encounter with Shinro, and the Kengan Association was abuzz with news of the virtual arena. Tokita Ohma, still an unknown in the grand scheme of the Association but already making waves in the underground fighting circuit, found himself eyeing the NG1 headset with a mix of suspicion and intrigue.

Word had spread that the Association was integrating these virtual fights into their system. For Ohma, who had spent years honing his body and techniques in real-world battles, the concept seemed almost alien.

As he turned the headset over in his calloused hands, Ohma overheard other fighters discussing the potential of this new technology. Some were excited about the training possibilities, while others worried it might soften the brutal edge of Kengan matches.

Ohma's master, Tokita Niko, had always emphasized the importance of real combat experience. How could a virtual world possibly replicate the true grit and unpredictability of a fight?

Ohma settled into the room provided by the association, slipping on the NG1 headset with a hint of reluctance. Suddenly, his surroundings dissolved into a sea of white. A prompt appeared, asking for a username.

After a moment's consideration, Ohma typed in "Asura" - a nod to the ferocious fighting style he was developing.

The white faded, replaced by a bustling locker room in a virtual stadium. Fighters milled about, some warming up, others engaging in pre-fight rituals. The realism was uncanny.

Ohma's eyes were drawn to a large board. His name - or rather, "Asura" - was listed for an upcoming match. "Already?" he muttered, surprised by the immediacy.

Stepping out into the arena proper, Ohma watched ongoing fights with growing curiosity. The fluidity of movement, the impact of blows - it all seemed impossibly real.

Ten minutes later, it was his turn. Across from him stood a cocky fighter, spouting taunts and boasts. Ohma tuned out the chatter, focused on a single question: Would he feel pain?

As the fight began, Ohma made a decision. He lowered his guard, allowing his opponent to land a clean hit to his face.

The impact was shocking. Pain blossomed across his cheek, indistinguishable from a real punch. Ohma's eyes widened, a mix of surprise and grudging respect flickering across his face.

"Well," he thought, a small grin forming, "this might be more interesting than I expected."

Ohma finished his fight quickly, finding little challenge in his weak opponent. As he stepped away from the arena, he noticed a commotion.

A fighter had been "killed" in the virtual space, and the other combatants were treating it as a spectacle, assuming the defeated would simply wake up in the real world.

Suddenly, a distinguished-looking older man appeared before them. His presence commanded attention, and Ohma recognized him as an authority figure within the Association.

"I am Nogi Hideki," the man introduced himself. "I apologize, but I forgot to inform you all about a crucial aspect of the NG1 and the rules of this game."

The fighters fell silent, sensing the gravity in Nogi's tone.

"Any fighter who dies in this game... will die in real life."

A collective gasp rippled through the crowd. Even Ohma, usually stoic, felt a chill run down his spine.

Nogi continued, his voice steady. "If you've noticed, the pain you feel here is real. We designed this game to be as realistic as possible. This extends to death as well."

The fighters' gazes darted to the bloody, motionless avatar of the recently defeated combatant, the implications sinking in.

"That is all," Nogi concluded abruptly, bidding them farewell before disappearing.

In the stunned silence that followed, Ohma felt a mixture of shock and disgust. The Association's cruelty in withholding this information until after a fighter had already perished was palpable.

It was a life-or-death battleground, no different from the brutal world he'd grown up in. The virtual arena had suddenly become all too real.