Takaba’s heavy punch slammed fiercely into Kinoshita’s cheek, and Kinoshita’s heavy punch also smashed into Takaba’s cheek.
Blood spurted out, splattering onto the surrounding snow.
“I think what you said makes sense.”
Takaba took two steps back.
The snowy mountain around them instantly receded, and the two found themselves on a stage resembling a variety show set.
“As expected, we still need to avoid copyright issues.”
Kinoshita touched his still-aching right cheek, his Reverse Cursed Technique already running.
Takaba in front of him hadn’t taken any damage at all in that playful fight just now; on the contrary, Kinoshita had taken the full brunt of it.
Whether it was the flames, the punches, or even that shuttlecock that had smacked him in the face earlier, they were all forces capable of hurting him.
Even using cursed energy reinforcement couldn’t block it at all; it was like taking true damage.
Moreover…
Takaba could heal his body without using Reverse Cursed Technique at all.
That meant using conventional attack methods here was completely useless against him.
This was also the first time in this life that Kinoshita entertained the thought that he might actually lose.
Of course, if his opponent fought like this, he probably wouldn’t be able to actually defeat Kinoshita even if they fought for 19 days straight until their techniques were confiscated.
“Hey! We’re on a competition stage here, are you going to make me talk to the audience all by myself?”
In other words, just like making opponents stop in the past, the goal this time is simply to make the man in front of me stop, right?
Only, what needs to stop isn’t his body, but his desire to be funny.
“Hey, did you know?”
“Hah? Don’t act like you’re about to drop some trivia right after spacing out for half the day.”
Kinoshita adjusted the tie of the formal suit that had suddenly appeared on his body.
“Potato chips have always been terrified of french fries.”
“Are they afraid their status in the snack world will be surpassed by french fries?”
“No, think about it carefully.”
Wearing the formal suit, Kinoshita waved his hand, casually bantering with Takaba, who was now also wearing a formal suit.
“Then what’s the reason? Are sliced things afraid of being julienned?”
“That’s exactly why you have no comedic talent! Those are all terrible jokes! Listen closely!”
Kinoshita clapped his hands, looking at the audience that had manifested from Takaba’s technique—they were clearly constructs born of cursed energy, yet they possessed genuine emotions and life.
What a terrifying technique.
“Don’t clap your hands while stringing someone along! I’m listening right now!”
“Because the potato chip is just a snack, but the french fry is a full-on a-salt!”
Kinoshita spread his hands.
“You have absolutely no right to say my jokes are terrible!”
“Haha, just kidding.”
“I saw something happen in America before.”
“Why are we suddenly in America? Aren’t you an ancient Japanese sorcerer?”
“Don’t sweat the small details.”
Kinoshita pressed a finger against Takaba’s lips—through this back-and-forth boke and tsukkomi routine, he realized that Takaba was rapidly developing his innate technique.
Perhaps his willingness to play along made Takaba feel like he’d finally met a kindred spirit.
“The gorillas over in America don’t make any sound when they walk! I discovered this phenomenon!”
“What’s with this slightly dangerous topic?”
“Relax, I’m not making a racist joke here. You know gorillas walk really quietly, right?”
“They aren’t quiet at all! How did you even come to that conclusion?!”
“Because they’re all highly trained in Gorilla Warfare~”
Caduceus in Kogane’s hand had transformed into a megaphone, and the little bug explained the punchline as it flew around in circles: “The pun here is that ‘Gorilla’ sounds exactly like ‘Guerilla’, which refers to stealthy, irregular military combat!”
Dead silence.
“I think guys who explain punchlines should be deep-fried in a vat of boiling oil.”
Takaba looked at the completely serious Kinoshita and nodded.
“I agree.”
“Don’t kill me! It’s Kogane!!!”
Seeing the vat of boiling oil suddenly appear, Kogane flew around frantically in terror.
Of course, the moment Kinoshita saw Kogane, he had already broken free from the thought restraints imposed by the Superman’s technique.
This guy… not only can he manifest his own imagination, but he can also influence my imagination, and then manifest mine…
“Mr Takaba, besides pun jokes, do you have anything else to show?”
“Hah? It’s super weird for an ancient person like you to call me Mister!”
“It’s fine, isn’t it? I wasn’t even 25 years old when I died.”
“Ah? Was it a sudden illness? What a tragic, premature death.”
“No, it was because I had lived enough.”
“You life-disrespecting bastard!”
Kinoshita spoke while waving Caduceus in his hand, which had now transformed into a microphone.
“But I was also riddled with diseases, you know… I had depression, bipolar disorder…”
“Oh, oh, I see…”
“Also pneumoconiosis, shell shock, Frenzy Virus, Eleazar, Plagas infection, Joker Venom infection, the Flood, Anti-Life Equation corruption, Warp corruption, Asperger’s, Determination overdose melting, ‘Fallen’ syndrome, Insanity, LV corruption, Despair Syndrome, Tiberium exposure, Torrington Syndrome, Phazon infection, Blight, Mind Control, Radiation damage, the Wither, Gene intactness…”
“Alright, stop right there. I feel like things that definitely don’t belong in this era just came out of your mouth.”
“Aren’t I pitiful?”
“Leaving aside the Monster Hunter stuff, even Undertale is in there! How the hell does an ancient guy like you know about all this?!”
Finally, the audience, which had been silent for a long time, burst out laughing.
“See? Didn’t I just make everyone laugh?”
“That’s true, but that’s not how it works.”
Kinoshita shrugged, then clapped his hands.
“Well then, Senior, it’s your turn.”
“Ahem…”
“How many jokes do you have?”
“I have ten thousand jokes!”
“No puns allowed.”
“I have one thousand left.”
“No Wi-Fi jokes allowed either.”
“Then I only have one left.”
“That dropped way too fast!!!”
“You completely don’t get it! Puns are exactly the kind of jokes that should be spammed in large quantities!”
“You completely ignored the 999 Wi-Fi jokes!”
“Ahem—do you know what fish loves to help humans the most?” Takaba asked, throwing a setup at Kinoshita.
“An orca? Or maybe a dolphin?”
Takaba shook his head.
“It has to be a whale of some sort. A shark definitely wouldn’t help humans,” Kinoshita reasoned.
“As expected, ancient folks like you are way too shallow!”
“That was just a personal attack, right?”
“It’s a Chum Salmon!”
?
What is this guy talking about?
“Why?” Kinoshita looked at Takaba in confusion.
“Because when you’re in trouble, everyone needs a good chum to lend a hand!”
Takaba spread his arms wide.
Accompanied by a burst of canned laughter, hundreds of thousands of fish flooded out from backstage, submerging the variety show set they were standing on.
“That’s still a pun joke!!!”
Seeming to finally remember that they were in the middle of a battle, Takaba hurled the school of fish and the giant floating “HA” subtitle letters that accompanied the laugh track directly at Kinoshita.
Kinoshita didn’t hold back either.
With a raise of his hand, a rapid succession of attacks flew out, casually slicing the surging school of fish into dozens of pieces.
As the fish and the “HA” subtitles vanished, Kinoshita found himself back on a rooftop, and Takaba was nowhere to be seen.