After leaving the cultural club section, Hanayama made his way deeper into the First Gymnasium.
The atmosphere changed immediately.
The quiet elegance of the cultural clubs gave way to the sharp smell of tatami mats, sweat, and protective gear.
Bamboo swords clashed in the kendo booth.
Judoka crashed onto the mats with heavy thuds.
The martial arts clubs were alive with energy.
As Hanayama walked through the aisle, he suddenly stopped.
A few meters ahead, several first-year students had gathered around a second-year student.
Their expressions were filled with curiosity.
“Excuse me,” one freshman asked.
“I’ve seen booths for kendo and judo…”
“But why isn’t there a karate club?”
“Karate’s one of the most popular martial arts in Japan, isn’t it?”
The upperclassman smiled bitterly.
“…You practiced karate before?”
The freshmen nodded.
“Yeah.”
“Then you’ve probably heard of Shinshinkai.”
“Of course.”
“It’s the largest full-contact karate organization in the world.”
“They’re famous.”
The senior sighed.
“And that’s exactly the problem.”
He folded his arms.
“To promote themselves, Shinshinkai encourages its most talented young fighters to enroll in ordinary high schools.”
“Then they compete in national high school tournaments.”
“So…”
“What do you think happens?”
The freshmen exchanged confused looks.
“…They win?”
“They dominate.”
The senior nodded.
“Completely.”
“Ordinary high school clubs practice after school.”
“Those students have trained seriously for years under professional instructors.”
“The difference isn’t even close.”
“No regular school can compete.”
He shrugged.
“Our school has strict restrictions on leaving campus.”
“The only major opportunities we get are official competitions.”
“Real karate prodigies wouldn’t choose a school like this.”
“The karate club kept producing poor results while still costing the school money.”
“So…”
“It was abolished.”
(I see…)
Hanayama silently processed the explanation.
One particular face surfaced in his mind.
A bald man.
An eyepatch covering one eye.
A deceptively cheerful smile.
Doppo Orochi.
The grandmaster of Shinshinkai Karate.
(That old man…)
(Still pulling childish stunts, I see.)
Hanayama felt almost speechless.
Whether entering professionally trained karate practitioners into high school tournaments was right or wrong from a martial artist’s perspective…
He couldn’t say.
He wasn’t a martial artist.
He had never practiced karate.
But from the perspective of a yakuza…
It felt like watching an adult drive a tank into a children’s playground.
Winning that way carried little honor.
That realization led him to another thought.
(Should I join one of this school’s martial arts clubs?)
He looked down at his own hands.
Scarred.
Powerful.
With his natural strength alone…
He could probably dominate nearly any high school competition.
But…
Wouldn’t that make him no different from Shinshinkai?
Winning against ordinary students through overwhelming natural ability…
It felt cheap.
(No…)
(That’s beneath me.)
Hanayama shook his head.
He wanted points.
He wanted information.
But he had no interest in bullying weaker opponents for easy rewards.
That wasn’t the conduct of a man.
Still…
He glanced around the martial arts booths.
Compared to the cultural clubs…
The athletes seemed far more straightforward.
People who devoted themselves to training usually spoke honestly.
Winning their trust would likely be much easier.
Perhaps…
This would become another useful source of information.
Just as Hanayama turned toward the judo booth—
“Hey!”
“You, first-year!”
A loud voice called out.
Hanayama stopped.
Standing nearby was a tall upperclassman wearing a spotless white judo uniform and a black belt.
He was around 180 centimeters tall.
Broad-shouldered.
Powerfully built.
For a high school student, he possessed an exceptional physique.
Yet…
Standing before Hanayama…
He still looked noticeably smaller.
The senior’s confident smile disappeared the moment he saw Hanayama up close.
The enormous scar across his face.
The overwhelming build.
The indescribable pressure surrounding him.
For an instant…
His instincts screamed at him to keep his distance.
Then…
His expression completely changed.
His eyes began shining with excitement.
(What kind of physique is this…?)
(Those shoulders…)
(That neck…)
(Those legs…)
(He’s built like solid bedrock!)
Fear vanished.
Only admiration remained.
The senior hurried forward with an excited grin.
“Your build is incredible!”
“Have you trained in martial arts before?”
“How about joining the judo club?”
“With your physique, you could become a national champion!”
Hanayama answered honestly.
“…I’ve never practiced any martial art.”
“I’m completely inexperienced.”
“…What?”
The senior’s eyes widened.
“Those muscles are natural?”
“That’s even better!”
“You won’t have any bad habits to unlearn!”
“We can teach you from the beginning!”
“Come on!”
“At least try practicing on the mats!”
Unable to contain his excitement, the senior grabbed Hanayama’s arm.
With the practiced strength of a judoka, he gave it a firm pull.
Nothing happened.
“…Huh?”
He pulled harder.
Still nothing.
Hanayama hadn’t even widened his stance.
He simply stood naturally.
Yet…
His body refused to move.
It felt less like pulling another person…
And more like trying to drag an enormous boulder rooted deep within the earth.
The senior stared in disbelief.
“I…”
“I can’t move you…”
“What kind of balance is this?”
His astonishment only grew into greater admiration.
“You’re unbelievable!”
“What’s your name?”
“Kaoru Hanayama.”
Hanayama answered calmly.
The senior immediately beamed.
“I’m Oki.”
“Third-year.”
“Captain of the judo club.”
He laughed excitedly.
“This has to be fate!”
“If someone like you joins our club…”
“You’ll make a huge contribution.”
“Not just to the judo club.”
“To your class as well.”
“You could even earn your class additional points!”
Hanayama’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“…Class points?”
Oki nodded enthusiastically.
“That’s right!”
Hanayama looked directly at him.
His calm gaze resembled that of an experienced negotiator rather than a first-year student.
“Senior.”
“Could you explain that in more detail?”
“…Huh?”
“You said joining a club could increase class points.”
“I’d like to understand exactly how that works.”
“If your explanation convinces me…”
“I’ll visit your dojo.”
Oki’s face lit up.
“Really!?”
“Of course!”
“I’ll explain everything!”
“Come with me!”
“We’ll head to the clubroom.”
“We can have some tea while we talk!”
Overjoyed, Oki eagerly led the way.
Hanayama quietly slipped his hands into his pockets and followed behind him.
Whether he ultimately joined the judo club was irrelevant.
His true objective remained unchanged.
Gather information.
Understand the school’s hidden rules.
Everything else was secondary.