Chapter 1409 1327 — Unexpected Encounter

In a nearby Tokyo park, Miguel Katayuya—better known online as Toro Kami—was already grinning like someone who had absolutely no concept of embarrassment. He stood in front of his small crew wearing one of Sonaya's newly released premium portable cameras which carried by his crews, a ridiculously expensive piece of equipment capable of transmitting live video without forcing him to remain attached to a studio or computer. For an ordinary person, it would have been an impressive piece of technology. For Miguel, however, it had apparently become an excuse to transform an otherwise peaceful public park into his personal entertainment arena. Behind him, parked beside the road, was a van carrying additional batteries, cables, a portable ZEPS 3 setup, a television, folding tables, several chairs, and—because apparently none of that was absurd enough—a collapsible arm-wrestling stage his crew had spent the last twenty minutes assembling. His plan for today's stream was incredibly simple: walk around Tokyo, challenge random strangers either to a match of Street Fighter II or to arm wrestling, and loudly claim he was unbeatable at both until somebody inevitably humiliated him. Miguel considered this brilliant content.

He slapped both hands together, stepped closer to the camera, and shouted with so much energy that several pedestrians immediately turned toward him. "A! YO, FOLKS! TODAY WE DEFINITELY CHALLENGE SOMEONE! STREET FIGHTER II OR ARM WRESTLING! I DON'T CARE WHICH ONE! BECAUSE TORO KAMI NEVER LOSES!" He immediately flexed both arms toward the camera, tightening his shirt around a surprisingly athletic frame as his livestream chat began moving so quickly that one of his crew members had difficulty reading it. Someone wrote, WAY TO GO TORO!, another responded, HE'S GOING TO LOSE WITHIN TEN MINUTES, while another viewer typed, It must be nice not having shame. I'm jealous. Miguel leaned closer toward the portable monitor displaying the comments and squinted. "What do you mean I have no shame!? This is confidence, bro! CONFIDENCE! Learn the difference!" Another comment immediately appeared: Confidence requires self-awareness. Miguel stared at it for half a second before pointing aggressively at the screen. "BANNED!" His cameraman began laughing behind him. Miguel turned. "Don't laugh! You work for me!" The cameraman only laughed harder.

Naturally, the commotion attracted attention. Some people ignored him completely, but many slowed down to watch. Miguel's enthusiasm was difficult to ignore even if someone had no idea who Toro Kami was. He moved like a man whose internal battery had somehow been installed backward and now produced infinite energy. He constantly spoke to the camera, pedestrians, his crew, and occasionally himself without ever seeming to run out of things to say. A few younger people recognized him almost immediately and whispered among themselves. Others simply watched because there was currently a half-Mexican, half-Japanese man in the middle of a Tokyo park loudly challenging strangers to video games and arm wrestling while a crew followed him around.

Miguel's eyes suddenly locked onto his first potential victim. A young man was sitting on a nearby bench with a ZGBA in his hands, completely absorbed in whatever he was playing. Miguel's grin became predatory. "AHA! GAMER DETECTED!" Before his crew could say anything, he rushed toward the bench. The young man looked up just in time to see Miguel stop directly in front of him with a camera pointed at his face. "YO, BRO! WHAT ARE YOU PLAYING!?" The young man blinked several times, glanced at Miguel, then at the camera, and finally recognized him. Instead of panicking, he smiled awkwardly and raised the handheld slightly. "Uh… Scurge: Hive."

Miguel froze.

His mouth opened.

He slowly placed one hand against his chest. "Ahhhh…"

The young man became visibly concerned. "Are you okay?"

Miguel dramatically lowered his head. "Jenosa Arma…"

"What?"

"My wife."

The young man stared at him.

Miguel lifted his face toward the sky. "JENOSA ARMA IS MY WIFE!"

His crew immediately erupted in laughter while the livestream chat exploded. SHE IS FICTIONAL BRO, TORO GOT MARRIED WITHOUT TELLING US, JENOSA DESERVES BETTER, and SOMEBODY INFORM ZAGE THEIR CHARACTER HAS BEEN KIDNAPPED flashed across the monitor. Miguel pointed toward the camera. "LISTEN! She has red hair, a Laser Blaster, a Laser Sword, she kills alien monsters, she gets cloned after dying, she's funny, she's reckless—WHAT ELSE DOES A MAN NEED!?" The young man finally started laughing. Miguel immediately turned back toward him as though none of that had happened. "Anyway! Because you are playing my wife's game, I challenge you! Street Fighter II or arm wrestling! Choose your suffering!"

The young man looked between Miguel and the small arm-wrestling platform behind him. "Uh… Street Fighter II, I guess. I play that sometimes."

Miguel grinned. "Sometimes? PERFECT! Easy victory!"

One of his crew members muttered, "You said that last time."

Miguel turned. "Nobody asked you."

Within minutes, the portable ZEPS station was ready. A television was connected near the van, controllers were handed out, and the growing crowd formed a loose semicircle around them. Miguel sat down and immediately selected Chun-Li, tapping the controller confidently against his palm. The young man selected Guile. Miguel leaned toward him. "Bro, you can still surrender. I'm giving you one chance because you play Scurge."

The young man smiled. "I think I'll try."

"Your funeral."

The match began.

For the first several seconds, Miguel looked exactly as confident as he had sounded. His Chun-Li moved aggressively, pushing forward with quick attacks while Miguel narrated practically every button he pressed. "LOOK AT THAT! FOOTWORK! BEAUTIFUL! THIS IS PROFESSIONAL! BRO, YOU CAN'T HANDLE THESE LEGS!" Then Guile suddenly punished him with a perfectly timed Flash Kick. Miguel's expression changed instantly. "Whoa."

The crowd laughed.

Miguel recovered. "Lucky."

A Sonic Boom hit him.

"Very lucky."

Another Flash Kick.

Miguel sat straighter.

The young man's smile widened.

Miguel stopped talking for approximately three seconds, which might have been a personal record. He leaned closer toward the screen, hands suddenly moving much faster. The crowd began reacting whenever either player landed a good sequence. Miguel's Chun-Li was still extremely good—far better than his ridiculous personality suggested—but the young man clearly knew exactly what he was doing. Guile controlled space carefully, punished reckless approaches, and forced Miguel to become much more patient than he wanted.

"BRO!" Miguel shouted after narrowly blocking another attack. "You said you play sometimes!"

"I do."

"You lied!"

"I didn't."

"You are moving like you have tax documents proving professional status!"

The young man laughed but continued playing. Miguel finally broke through with a fast sequence and nearly took the round, only to eat another Flash Kick at the worst possible moment. His health dropped dangerously low. The livestream chat went insane. TORO ABOUT TO GET COOKED, FIRST GUY BRO, STREAM JUST STARTED, NEVER LOSES BTW. Miguel glanced toward the comments for half a second. "STOP DISTRACTING ME!"

That nearly cost him the entire match.

"AAAAAH!"

He barely recovered, pressured Guile toward the edge, and managed to steal the round by the smallest margin imaginable. Miguel immediately jumped from his chair as though he had just won a world championship. "HAHA! I TOLD YOU! TORO KAMI NEVER LOSES!"

The young man stared at the screen and chuckled. "You almost did."

"Almost is a fictional concept invented by losers."

His crew stared at him.

Miguel slowly sat down again. "Okay, second round."

The next round was even closer. Miguel's constant talking returned as soon as he regained confidence, but this time the young man was clearly enjoying himself and began responding. "You talk a lot."

"That's psychological warfare."

"It's annoying."

"Exactly!"

Guile immediately hit him.

Miguel gasped. "Verbal abuse!"

In the end, Miguel barely won the complete match. He threw both hands into the air and shouted toward the camera while the crowd applauded, but unlike his earlier boasting, there was genuine respect in his expression when he turned toward the young man. "Whoa, boy! You're GOOD! Seriously! You almost cooked me!"

The young man laughed. "You're really good too. I actually used to play competitively, but not anymore. These days I mostly play casual games."

Miguel's entire face changed.

He slowly turned toward the camera.

"USED TO BE A PRO."

The young man raised a hand. "Not really pro-pro—"

"USED TO BE A PRO!"

"I said—"

Miguel pointed dramatically toward his viewers. "YOU SEE!? FIRST CHALLENGE AND THEY SEND A RETIRED PROFESSIONAL ASSASSIN AFTER ME!"

The young man covered his face while laughing.

One livestream comment appeared: Bro beat retired Guile main by 2 HP and thinks he defeated Hayabusa.

Miguel stared at the comment.

"…Ban him too."

His crew was barely functioning at this point.

After thanking the young man, Miguel immediately continued through the park, apparently energized rather than exhausted. He challenged two more people to Street Fighter, defeated one fairly easily, then lost a single round to a middle-aged office worker who claimed he had not played since the 1994s. Miguel refused to accept this explanation. "YOU DON'T FORGET THAT COMBO AFTER SEVEN YEARS! THIS MAN IS HIDING SOMETHING!" The office worker merely laughed and walked away while Miguel continued accusing him of being part of some underground Street Fighter organization.

Then Miguel noticed someone significantly larger than himself.

The man stood near the path with thick arms, broad shoulders, and the unmistakable build of someone who spent considerable time lifting heavy things. Miguel immediately froze mid-sentence.

His cameraman recognized the expression.

"Oh no."

Miguel slowly grinned.

"Oh yes."

The large man noticed him approaching and smiled in confusion. Miguel pointed toward the arm-wrestling platform behind them. "YO, BRO! ARM WRESTLING! IF YOU BEAT ME, I GIVE YOU TWO THOUSAND YEN! EASY MONEY!"

The large man looked down at Miguel, then at his arm, then back toward the stage. "You sure?"

Miguel flexed. "LOOK AT ME!"

The man looked.

Then looked toward Miguel's crew.

One of them quietly shook his head as though apologizing in advance.

The large man laughed. "Sure."

The crowd immediately became interested again. Even several people who had originally been walking away returned once they saw the size difference. Miguel removed his outer shirt, revealing his muscular arms while the larger challenger rolled one sleeve upward. Miguel's confidence remained completely intact, but one of his crew members leaned toward the camera and whispered, "If Toro's arm comes off, we are ending the stream."

Miguel heard him.

"MY ARM ISN'T COMING OFF!"

The livestream chat instantly filled with RIP TORO.

Both men sat opposite one another and placed their elbows down.

Miguel looked across the table. "Bro, I need you to understand something."

The man raised an eyebrow.

"If I win, we're friends."

"And if I win?"

"We're enemies forever."

The man burst out laughing.

Their hands locked.

One of the crew members acted as referee. "Ready?"

Miguel's grin disappeared for the first time. His expression became intensely focused.

"Go!"

Their arms tensed instantly.

The crowd shouted.

For several seconds neither hand moved.

Miguel's forearm tightened dramatically as he leaned into the struggle. The larger man looked genuinely surprised. Miguel was not merely some loud internet personality pretending to be strong. He actually had considerable power.

Miguel's face, however, immediately betrayed how difficult the contest was.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAA—!"

His challenger began laughing.

"DON'T LAUGH!"

"You're the one screaming!"

"SCREAMING ADDS POWER!"

"That's not how it works!"

"IT IS NOW!"

The crowd was roaring.

Miguel gradually pushed his opponent's arm several centimeters downward. The man resisted, recovered slightly, and pushed back toward the center. Miguel's eyes widened. "Whoa! WHOA! BRO!"

One of the comments read His soul almost left his body.

Miguel's teeth clenched as he shifted his posture carefully. Unlike his personality, his technique was actually solid. He adjusted his wrist, applied pressure gradually, and forced the larger man's hand farther toward the table.

The man's expression changed from amusement to genuine concentration.

Miguel noticed.

His grin returned.

"HAHA!"

"Don't celebrate yet."

"TOO LATE!"

With one final push, Miguel forced the man's hand down.

THUD!

For half a second, Miguel simply stared.

Then he exploded.

"HAHAHAHA! I'M STRONG!"

He jumped from the chair and flexed both arms toward the camera as the crowd applauded. The defeated challenger stared at his own hand before laughing in disbelief. "You really are strong."

Miguel pointed toward him. "THANK YOU! Finally, somebody respects the art!"

"You screamed the entire time."

"That's part of the art!"

Miguel immediately shook the man's hand, congratulated him, and even offered him the two thousand yen anyway because the match had been entertaining. The challenger initially refused before Miguel shoved the bills toward him. "Take it! Consider it payment for almost destroying my elbow!" The crowd laughed again.

From a short distance away, Zaboru had been watching everything.

He stood among the growing crowd with both hands inside the pockets of his jacket, cap pulled low and glasses helping hide his face. At first he had intended to continue his walk after the government meeting, but the moment he recognized Toro Kami, curiosity had defeated him.

Zaboru chuckled quietly.

That guy again…

He had already watched several of Miguel's videos after discovering his channel, but seeing the man operate in person was completely different. Somehow, the camera barely exaggerated anything.

If anything, Miguel was worse in real life.

The man genuinely seemed incapable of reducing his energy level below one hundred percent.

Zaboru watched him argue with his own livestream chat, challenge another stranger, then somehow convince an elderly man to select Ryu in Street Fighter II while loudly promising to "respect senior experience." The old man immediately hit him with a Hadouken and Miguel screamed as though he had been betrayed by his grandfather.

Zaboru bit his lip.

He really reminds me of IShowSpeed.

Not exactly.

Miguel was older, more technically skilled at games, surprisingly athletic, and somehow had enough self-awareness to know when people were mocking him without caring in the slightest. But that same chaotic energy was there. The willingness to do something completely ridiculous in public because it would be entertaining. The screaming. The confidence. The occasional moment where everybody watching wondered whether the streamer had forgotten normal social rules existed.

Actually… this guy might be even more insane.

Miguel challenged someone to arm wrestling while still arguing about Jenosa Arma being his wife.

Zaboru nearly laughed again.

Yeah. Definitely more insane.

Still, there was something strangely likable about him.

Miguel never seemed cruel toward the people he challenged. He shouted, bragged, exaggerated, and behaved like an idiot, but whenever someone actually played well or competed seriously, Miguel immediately respected them. When the former competitive Street Fighter player nearly defeated him, Miguel genuinely praised him. When the muscular stranger nearly won the arm-wrestling match, Miguel paid him anyway.

It was entertainment.

Chaotic entertainment.

But entertainment nonetheless.

Zaboru smiled beneath the shadow of his cap.

He really is interesting.

For another few minutes, he remained among the crowd, watching Miguel jump between Street Fighter matches and arm-wrestling challenges without ever shutting up. Eventually, however, Zaboru decided he had seen enough. His family was waiting, and he still had several things he wanted to think about after his meeting with the government.

He quietly turned away from the crowd.

Then suddenly Miguel noticed something.

His head turned toward Zaboru's side.

Zaboru froze.

To be continued.

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