The tension in the air was palpable, the kind that made onlookers step back instinctively. You stood opposite Kanji Mochizuki in the narrow alley, the hum of streetlights buzzing above. His usual scowl deepened as he sized you up, his fists clenched at his sides.

“You seriously think you can take me on?” Kanji barked, his voice echoing against the walls. “Ain’t nobody stupid enough to pick a fight with me unless they got a death wish.”

Without warning, Kanji lunged forward, his movements quick and forceful. His punch swung wide, and you narrowly dodged, feeling the gust of wind from his fist. He was strong—that much was clear—but you had speed on your side. You retaliated with a quick jab to his side, which landed but didn’t seem to faze him much.