The anomaly in the Kamen Rider Universe

Aaron stood across from Genta, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he adjusted the weighted vest strapped around his torso. The heavy metal clinked slightly as he tightened the straps, but Aaron didn't seem bothered in the slightest. Genta watched him, a mixture of curiosity and concern etched on his face.

"Are you sure those weights won't inconvenience you in the fight?" Genta asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

Aaron grinned, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Oh no... I'm just wearing this so I don't accidentally win too quickly. You know, gotta give you a chance."

Genta's eyes widened in disbelief. Was Aaron really that confident? Was he really that far behind?

Before Genta could process the thought, Aaron's expression softened slightly, his tone becoming almost instructional. "The second you manage to keep up with me while I'm wearing these weights, you'll be ready."

Genta swallowed hard. Part of him wanted to believe that it wouldn't be too difficult, that he could push through with sheer willpower. But as soon as they both got into a fighting stance, the air around them changed.

Aaron's stance was flawless, every muscle in his body coiled like a spring, ready to unleash at a moment's notice. His eyes locked onto Genta with an intensity that made the older man feel as though he was being stared down by a predator—a trained killer who knew exactly how to exploit any weakness.

Genta's heart raced as he searched for an opening, but there was none. Every angle he considered felt like a trap as if one wrong move would lead to his immediate defeat. The confidence he had felt earlier began to waver under the weight of Aaron's presence.

But then, an image flashed through his mind—his family, in danger, being torn apart by the very threats he was training to face. A surge of determination washed over him, pushing aside the fear and doubt. He couldn't afford to lose. Not here, not now.

Gritting his teeth, Genta steeled himself, locking his gaze with Aaron's. Whatever it took, he was going to fight with everything he had.

Genta and Aaron faced each other in the sparring area, the air thick with tension. Aaron, now weighed down by heavy training gear, still exuded a calm confidence. His posture was relaxed, and yet Genta knew better than to think this man was unprepared for his strikes.

Genta, on the other hand, felt the pressure mounting. Aaron's earlier words echoed in his mind: "The second you manage to keep up with me while I'm wearing those weights, you'll be ready." But as they squared off, Genta couldn't shake the feeling that he was stepping into the ring with a predator.

Not that kind of predator..get your mind out of the gutter.

The fight began with Genta taking the initiative, launching a series of aggressive punches aimed at Aaron's torso. His strikes were powerful and seemed to possess a lot of speed behind them.

Yet, each time his fists neared their target, Aaron's body moved with fluid precision. It was as if he anticipated every attack before it was even thrown.

Aaron's movements were smooth and economical. He barely shifted his feet, yet each step was calculated to divert Genta's attacks. With a subtle twist of his hips, Aaron deflected a right hook, using the momentum to send Genta stumbling off-balance.

Genta recovered quickly, trying to close the distance, but Aaron was already repositioned, his stance impenetrable.

His eyes already scanning Genta's stance for weakness, he was surprised to see there wasn't as much weakness as when he fought Ikki or Sakura for the first time.

For some reason, he felt as if he was fighting someone who was trained to be a weapon.

That was a thought for later.

Genta's frustration began to build as he threw more punches, only to find them effortlessly redirected or neutralized. Aaron wasn't just blocking; he was turning Genta's force against him.

Each failed strike left Genta more exposed, allowing Aaron to slip in a counterattack—nothing too punishing, just a quick jab to the ribs or a palm strike to the shoulder, enough to let Genta know that he was always one step ahead.

Also, he did not feel like injuring him to the point that he would need a lot of healing.

Vail was impatient as fuck so chances were, he would attack the weekend base soon, they did not have 7 days but 2 or 3 days at best.

So he did not have much time to get this old man up to shape.

Genta decided to switch tactics, feinting a high punch before driving a knee toward Aaron's midsection.

But Aaron was unfazed. He shifted his weight at the last possible moment, his forearm catching Genta's knee and guiding it harmlessly past his side. With a swift, almost playful shove, Aaron sent Genta sprawling backward.

It was then that Genta saw it—Aaron's eyes. They weren't the eyes of a cocky teenager; they were the eyes of a seasoned fighter, someone who had seen countless battles. Genta felt a chill run down his spine. There was no opening in Aaron's stance, no weakness to exploit. He was being methodically dismantled, and Aaron was barely trying.

"Huh...did I put too little weight on myself," Aaron thought to himself as he looked at the 150-pound weight that was currently weighing down every single one of his limbs.

He had one in each of his arms, so 300, on his feet too, so that was another 300., one on his chest. That was another 300.

So in total, he was carrying about, 900.

He knew it, he should have gone for 1400 to make this fairer, welp it was, what it was.

Upon hearing the sound of the teenage boy thinking about the weight currently on his body, Genta felt as if he needed to push himself further.

His opponent quite literally had a handicap and yet he was the one struggling.

He rushed toward his opponent before launching a decisive punch toward his gut.

In a sudden, fluid motion, Aaron grabbed Genta's wrist mid-punch, using the momentum to pivot and pull Genta into a judo-style throw. The world spun for Genta, and before he knew it, he was on his back, staring up at the ceiling, Aaron standing over him with that same infuriatingly calm expression.

Aaron offered a hand to help Genta up, a small smile playing on his lips. "Not bad," Aaron said, though there was a hint of amusement in his voice. "But you're still using too much force. Try to let your opponent's energy work for you. It's less tiring that way."

"Also, you are a bit stiff, if you want to know how stiff, just imagine a morning wood and that should tell you how stiff you are"

Genta was just lying on the ground as he listened to the teenager talk.

"Sure your wife might like it when you stiff....but that doesn't help in a battle"