BAKI-DOU: THE INVINCIBLE SAMURAI
Astonishing.
Truly astonishing.
What a convenient thing.
Now...
Mixing some straw charcoal into horse oil...
That should heal it.
Musashi, do you have a moment?
Go ahead and speak.
The location is here.
The time is three nights from now, at night.
Your opponent will stand here.
Sea King Retsu, representative of the Ming Dynasty.
For the first time
in the underground martial arts arena under Tokyo Dome,
weapons will be allowed!
So was it you who asked that weapons be allowed in this match against me, Musashi?
Man from the continent.
What I seek is a decisive conclusion.
Consider it a favor from me.
Of course, even without a sword, Musashi Miyamoto could never be weak.
But still, you're an unparalleled swordsman.
If I, a kung fu master, were to defeat you unarmed,
it'd be meaningless.
Good grief.
You think you can defeat me, Musashi, if we're both unarmed?
Perhaps I can defeat you.
Or perhaps I can't.
But that's not the point.
To defeat Musashi Miyamoto, I must face you with a sword in your hand.
There's no other way.
Man from the continent.
What?
What are you doing, Retsu?
Against an opponent who has yet to strike?
I've long trained in the martial arts.
But a fighting aura that vicious is almost unheard of.
He came at me first.
I want you to tell him one thing.
For the match, I'll wear an unbreakable prosthetic leg.
I look forward to our match in three days.
How earnest of you.
You're truly endearing, man from the continent.
No need to explain.
The footage makes it clear that he's the real deal.
That's all I need to know.
Okay.
By the way, Noble Elder,
in a match between Musashi Miyamoto and Sea King Retsu,
rumor has it weapons will be allowed in the underground arena for the first time.
Retsu personally requested that rule, so Musashi has no reason to object.
I'm not trying to be rude, but Retsu should prepare a machine gun.
What?
Weapons are permitted against Musashi Miyamoto.
You've watched martial arts and combat for a long time, Noble Elder.
I have great respect for your insight.
What do you mean?
What's with the way you're talking?
But as sad as it is, there's a limit to those who have never faced real combat.
What you've done is too reckless.
You're very straightforward. You blurt out things that are hard to say.
Noble Elder, this time, quite unintentionally,
you have exposed yourself as an amateur.
Musashi Miyamoto is a monster among monsters.
You have no understanding of him.
I was blind to it. But let's put that aside.
Sea King Retsu volunteered himself and requested that weapons be allowed.
Do you plan to treat even him as an amateur?
Have you forgotten, Noble Elder?
Anyone who knows Retsu would understand this match.
Sea King Retsu is that kind of person, isn't he?
Even if it costs him his life or a leg,
once he deems a foe strong, honor demands that he seek to fight.
That's Sea King Retsu. Everyone knows that.
I see.
On top of that, his opponent is none other than the real, living Miyamoto Musashi.
If it's a dream, I don't want to wake up.
Do you want to fight too, Izo Motobe?
I do.
In my case,
rather than wanting to fight, I suppose I want to protect.
Protect who?
Musashi Miyamoto is known as a master swordsman,
but he wasn't just limited to a sword.
Samurai back then weren't that soft.
Swords, spears, bows, staffs, naginata, shuriken, ropes, horses.
He's a master of every martial art. There's nothing he can't do.
So?
Although I hesitate to say so, I, Motobe, have mastered all of those martial arts.
That's something even Yujiro Hanma can't do.
There's no one but me who can protect my friends from Musashi.
KARATE-DO SHINSHINKAI HEADQUARTERS
Looking good.
Your mastery of weapons hasn't diminished in the slightest.
Rather, it seems even more forceful than before, Retsu.
Master.
I hit him.
I hit him, but he's not going down.
He's got such a big body, but he's like a feather.
XIAOLI
It's pronounced "Xiaoli."
You hammer your bones, hammer your muscles,
and tamper your skin,
turning your body into a thick wall,
able to repel any ordinary blow.
So far, this is nothing you don't already know.
But that's not a technique.
It's something entirely different from what we call an advanced technique.
So what will you do?
You simply become this.
A feather.
I knew it.
The unconscious tension running through your body
and the stiffness buried in your muscles, bones, and tendons, and inside your flesh.
You eliminate it completely.
As that tension fades,
the hard wall of flesh begins to take on the flexibility of an ice pack,
then the fragility of thin paper, until at last it becomes like a feather.
Once you reach the state of a feather, the wall no longer exists.
The wind, bullets, or missiles
will pass through to no avail.
Once you've attained perfect Xiaoli, the true transformation into a feather...
even blades will fail to harm you.
The two-sword style isn't exclusive to Musashi.
It's the same sword technique, yet the difference is enormous.
Plain, simple, focused on a single strike. That's Japanese swordsmanship.
It gives the impression of stillness.
But this is almost athletic.
The impression of Chinese swordsmanship is pure motion.
Attack sharply, defend gracefully.
You've heard that at least once if you've practiced karate.
It's an ancient essence of Chinese martial arts.
A crane trying to finish off a snake.
This saying is said to come from that fight.
The snake struggles against the crane's beak.
Fed up with the crane's attacks,
the snake strikes back, but all is useless against the crane's gentle dance.
In the end, the snake is taken down.
That won't do.
"Defend with grace." That only works in unarmed combat.
Even the most graceful dance is ended by a sword.
Retsu, stand up.
Become like drifting air. Sway completely.
Become a feather.
If you've completely yielded to my sword, even Musashi himself couldn't cut you.
Anytime.
What a beautiful sight.
What is he training for?
I'd say that's acceptable.
Become a feather.
Is this what it's supposed to mean?
Is this even possible?
The genius, Sea King Retsu, is here.
He didn't get cut. That's a first.
Better on the second time than the first.
Better on the third time than the second.
The genius, Sea King Retsu.
He became a feather on the fourth try.
Bravo!
Sense it with spirit, then confirm it by sight.
Become a feather, yielding with the whole body without resisting the blade's path.
Your feet are the wind. Your hands are the wind.
Your whole body is the wind.
You did well with this thick body.
You have mastered Xiaoli.
With this light technique...
you'll face Musashi's blade.
Motobe.
Four thousand years of Chinese history.
Don't make me laugh.
This long, heavy blade...
How can you draw it so well?
And even faster than the eye can follow.
How?
You can't draw it with your hands.
It's your hips.
You draw with your hips. You cut with your hips. In a single cut.
Otherwise, you won't make it in time. And then there's no tomorrow.
Retsu.
Do you really think you can seal the master's blade with this circus trick?
Now, now, warrior who values the old Japanese style.
With just one glance, Motobe's style...
I gave him my seal of approval for his mastery of Xiaoli.
Are you going to object?
That's only reasonable.
You're from China.
You don't get the martial ways of the Sengoku era.
Facing each other.
It means one of them will die.
Even when matches were of a low standard, the severity of combat was certain.
It's different from modern martial arts, where you can win and lose over and over.
Old martial arts passed down to today with many parts missing.
Whether they're rough or incomplete,
we have no choice but to fight the traditional way!
Understood.
So, what would you like me to do?
Withdraw.
Even a bare-handed fight is dangerous.
And this is Musashi Miyamoto with a sword.
You won't stand a chance even with a machine gun.
I won't tolerate any insult.
Retsu, that guy can cut anything.
Whether it's iron or feather.
What are you telling me to do?
You have to get past me, Motobe, first.
Tomorrow night,
this arena will be filled not with loud cheers,
but with silence.
The night before the forbidden match.
Tomorrow.
Get past me. I thought about what that means.
So you're saying I have to fight you and beat you, or you won't let me go.
That's the only way I can interpret it.
But Motobe, I hope I'm wrong.
Retsu.
You're not wrong.
It's unharmed.
Incredible. I almost had my elbow destroyed.
My opponent is the Fist Hero, Sea King Retsu.
I can't afford to hold back.
And it's better than getting cut down.
How strong! Retsu's strength is expected,
but I didn't know Izo Motobe was at this level.
As expected from Sea King Retsu.
You may be stronger than me.
But you're not stronger than Musashi.
Fool. What are you doing the night before the match?
Master!
Do you think you can fight him half-heartedly?
If you'd kept that up, Retsu, you wouldn't have come out unscathed.
I...
Don't say, "I don't mind."
It's only polite to stand in the arena uninjured.
Now, get some rest.
That day,
the underground arena under the Tokyo Dome was filled with an unusual buzz.
The reason was clearly the unusual scene in the arena.
Low blows, eye pokes, biting.
All allowed.
That should be enough.
And yet, you want more? You want to see even further ahead?
On this day, every spectator was confronted with a question.
Do they want to see a match or a fight to the death?
Do they want to see technique or slaughter?
Subtitle translation by: Wataru Uno