“So Souta-san, is Takahiro-kun your son?” I asked as I began stretching. My arms raised in the air as I leaned back, the tension in my body loosening up. The man across from me had a different definition of warming up however as he sat cross-legged on the gym floor, a bento filled with rice and fishy goodies lay on his lap. With the skill of someone who's used them his entire life, he tucked a piece of shrimp tempura in his mouth before speaking.

“Nah, he's my brother’s kid, why did he do something stupid?” His coal-brown eyes looked at me like he expected this day would come. My thoughts immediately turned back to the chubby boy of my class. Was he stupid? Yes, but unlike the other kids who were too busy getting high on their own farts Takahiro at least seemed to have some common sense. The horror stories his dad told him delivered the intended effect of preventing his son from jumping in and getting himself killed out of some sense of ‘clan pride’.

“No, while he isn't the most academically gifted I don't doubt that in an emergency he’d be one of the more competent ones.” ‘His head is so empty that he won't overthink things too much’ is what I wanted to add at the end there but I felt it would ruin the praise I heaped on the guy's nephew.

“Good, after what happened to his dad we were kind of hoping he could take on the mantle of clan head one day. If you help him get to that point the Yamazaki clan would be in your debt.” He sighed wistfully at the mention of his brother, a forlorn look coming over his eyes before he drowned himself back into the task of devouring his food. I myself began thinking of how I could use a favor from a clan that specializes in converting calories into geist. Hmm—wait a sec, didn't Chizue say something about her friend being a bit on the big side? 

“What’s it take to become a Yamazaki clan head?” I asked as my fingers touched the tips of my pink Crocs, and of course, I made sure to flip the suckers into sport mode. I wouldn't want to have a blowout in the middle of a fistfight after all. 

“Hoh, interested in that favor I see.” He chuckled, his voice still understandable despite his cheeks being stuffed full of rice like a chipmunk. How many years of talking while eating does it take to not sound like mush mouth? 

“Hey, can you blame me for wanting to get on the good side of a clan with the best restaurants on this side of the veil?” I grinned as I began hopping up and down on the balls of my feet. The other thing the Yamazaki were known for was their geist enhanced cooking, and if the way the manga described it is to be believed it's like heaven and earth compared to normal food. Consuming the stuff can imbue you with the geist or elemental aura infused into the dish. They’re a clan with a built-in buffing system so making friends with them might come in handy in the future. I could just imagine myself walking out of one of their restaurant's chock full of geist and with a full belly ready to fight a boss monster. 

“No, I can't blame you but if you think we’ll let you peep in on our techniques then I'll sadly have to disappoint you. They’re for Yamazaki clan member only so unless you plan on marrying one of us anytime soon then you’ll be shit out of luck.” I clicked my tongue as Souta gave me a closed-mouth grin, his eyes narrowing like the cat that caught the Canary. 

“Well damn guess I wasn't subtle enough was I?” I shrugged my shoulders, my feet still springing me into an up-and-down motion. Turning my face to the steel wall of the gym I saw the large bullet proof glass windows of the viewing booth perched at the top where the ceiling and wall met. Raising my hand I gave the people inside a thumbs up to say I was ready, the sound of my Crocs slapping against the massive stone tile of the gym filling the air as I jumped one final time. 

“Not nearly enough, but when you’re a clan with unique techniques that are as useful as ours you've heard the same flattering words a million times. And to answer your question on what it would take for Takahiro to become clan head he would need to kill one Tier-3 by himself and gain mastery over our innate technique [Caloric Conversion].” Souta put the lid back on his bento, the thing having been cleared ages ago as not even a grain of rice remained. With his bare hand and not even using any geist he crumpled the metal box in his palm like it was made of paper. Tossing the metal ball aside it sailed right into the steel wall of the gym with a loud thud. His head turned to the viewing booth and he gave a thumbs up, his neck popping as he began stretching it. 

“Damn…you’re pretty intimidating.”

“I’ve heard, but hey maybe if you beat me I might consider hooking you up with my daughter. She's a fourth year here and I’m sure you and her would get along.” I-I didn't know how to respond to the Father advertising his daughter so I kind of just dumbly nodded my head. 

[*Pssht*—The match will begin in three, two, one, Hajime!]

I immediately began releasing geist into the air, a white haze of aura growing around me like a fog. Souta seemed to have the same idea as his own aura flared to life, but unlike my tempered and smooth geist his was something overflowing and rough. The sheer quantity difference could be clearly seen by the fact that the white haze he was projecting from his body covered the entire half of the stage we were standing on. My own geist was only projected in a circle around me about six feet in diameter. This was my first feeling of being dwarfed in terms of raw power by another human.

“Let’s see what you’ve got rookie!” His feet covered in a pair of brown leather loafers pushed off the ground with enough force to crack the thick slabs of concrete the floor tiles were made of. The man was barreling toward me faster than a drag car zipping down the tarmac. His fist was right in front of my face in an instant as I had to duck under to avoid it. 

I jumped away as his foot tried sweeping my legs. My own leg kicked off of the geist floating around me as it solidified under my control. Springboarding forward my arm was put out in front of me as I landed a Superman punch against the man’s jaw. His head tilted to the side and I got to see the wicked grin the man had as his meaty hand grabbed ahold of my wrist. My free hand began to rain down a flurry of desperate attacks as the man began squeezing my wrist with a crushing grip. 

“—Ugh!” I gritted my teeth as the sound of my bones groaning under the pressure of his thick fingers filled the air. The man’s hands were the size of dinner plates and even without geist he could break a mans wrist without much effort. Now multiply that strength by a hundred and you've got the sensation I was feeling as he continued to apply pressure. 

My strikes weren't doing shit either, the mans dense fat acting as an effective armor against blunt strikes. The sound of my elbow descending on his forehead was like the sound of an axe splitting wood. For the first time Souta grimaced, a small cut began leaking blood across his forehead. The small victory was short-lived however as instead of continuing to slowly crush my wrist he decided to use the grip he had on me to lift me sky high. My stomach lurched as a feeling of weightlessness overcame me, and then I was slammed down into the concrete like a meteor.

A series of spiderweb cracks grew from the cratering indent I left in the ground. I gasped for breath as the wind had been knocked out of me, the looming figure of Souta with a foot ready to land on my chest filled my blurry vision. Rolling to the left I watched as his loafered foot crashed into the concrete like it was cardboard. His calve sunk into the concrete up to his knee and I saw this as a chance to strike back. 

My left fist slammed into his face with a jab and was followed by a right hook that knocked his jaw to the side. Blood leaked from the man’s busted lip, his arms coming up to protect his head as I rained down a flurry of elbows and knees on his undefended body. It felt like I was punching a trampoline as the man didn't seem to even feel the beatdown I was trying to unleash on him. 

“[Quicksand].” The man muttered as his geist flared green before he sunk into the concrete like it was liquid. I found myself nearly falling in as one of his large hands tried pulling me down with him. Kicking off of the quickly liquifying concrete I went airborne as I jumped off of solidified platforms I made with geist. The stage had returned to its natural solidified state, but my eyes narrowed when I didn't see Souta surface. He was under the floor no doubt, and like a shark waiting just below the water he would strike out as soon as I stepped on the ground. 

“[Lux Trabem]!” A glowing ball of light aether formed at the tip of my finger. This would be a game of battleship, each tile on the floor a square where he could be hiding. Every shot I miss will mean he can begin tracking where I’m at. If I'm too predictable I may find myself hit with an unavoidable attack. 

The beam of golden light pierced through the concrete with a steaming hiss, the thing traveling at the speed of light meant the attack got there quicker than anyone could react. My eyes peered down the molten hole created in the tile and when I saw no one there I clicked my tongue. A pillar of stone rose from the air, the thing arcing toward me as it climbed higher and higher ready to crash into me. Jumping out of the way I landed on another platform made of geist as I channled the energy into my eyes. Screw playing cat and mouse I’m going to cut to the chase!

“Let’s see…where are you—!?” My eyes peeling back the layers of concrete made contact with Souta as he grinned at me. His arm busted through the ground as the thing stretched out like it was made of rubber. Chunks of rubble pelted against the undamaged tiles as the heat-seeking fist began chasing my fleeing form. Not only could they convert fat stores into geist but they also had a natural talent for altering their bodies through their light aether node. If dark aether is the element of the mind and the intangible side of geist then light aether is the element of the body and physical refinement. 

Eventually, the arm stopped following me as it ran out of material to extend that far. I looked down and saw a much leaner Souta glaring at me. A wicked gleam grew in my eyes as I looked at his lean vulnerable body. Pushing off of one of the hazy platforms of geist I created I lunged toward the man like a speeding bullet. I passed by his hand busy still retracting to his body, his fat stores were only slowly being replenished by his arm shrinking. My leg extended in a kick, a thing lacking any flare or pageantry. One might even call it a simple straight kick.

I was right on him, the man was only half as big as he was before he extended his arm. Geist poured over my leg like a sheet of snow, the spearhead of my attack glowing brightly as I fell out of the sky like a meteor. The man raised his other hand as it grew large like a tower shield. Green earth aura began pulling the concrete from the floor and coating his massive palm just as my leg crashed against his impromptu shield.

“[Simple Straight Kick]!” A thundering boom filled the air as the mans giant hand was bent back snapping his massive wrist. His brown eyes filled with pain could only widen when the pink heel of my Crocs crashed against his massive gut. The man stumbled to the ground and I landed right on top of him. I straddled him, my fists punching away at his unguarded face with relentless force.

“… I surrender.” My fist reared back to deliver the final blow and paused, a feeling of relief washing over me. I had won, a grin growing on my face as I helped up the chubby man. Despite the beating he took the man didn't look all that scratched up, and other than the broken wrist he looked like he could still fight. 

“Hey man, good fight.” I shook his now retracted working hand, the man giving me a bloody smile at the sportsmanship I was displaying. He wrapped his working arm around my shoulder before giving me a mischievous grin, his eyes looking at me with pride.

“That was pretty good, I should've known offering you my daughter would get you to fight like an animal!” He broke out into a bellowing chuckle, and I found myself smiling along. I really like this dude, and when he showed me a picture of his daughter in his wallet I liked him even more.  

A buxom young woman faced the camera with an exasperated smile. Her black doe eyes looked at the cameraman with an amused gleam hidden behind them. Ebony locks of her silky hair framed her delicate heart-shaped face. From the opened buttons of her school uniform and loosened tie, the tantalizing sight of her caramel-colored cleavage was revealed. A heart-shaped locket was nestled right in between the top of her mouth-watering tits, my eyes trailing upward to her swan-like neck. She was plump, and yet it did little to detract from her beauty as her supple flesh would only be a turn-on for me. The girl hadn't lost her immaculate figure due to her family’s innate constitution, my eyes staring at her hourglass figure and thin waist.

“Can I call you dad?” All I received in response was an even louder chuckle and his hand patting me on the back with enough force to knock me to the floor. Now all that remained was to see who I’d be fighting next, and more specifically gather information on the clown and his fighting style. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as I looked up at the viewing booth, the purple eyes gazing at me sent chills down my spine. Apparently I wasn't the only one observing in this relationship.