Tokuda

No accessory. Maximum presence. The Shirtless Runt fighters decided that bare skin is its own kind of armor — visible, deliberate, impossible to mistake.

Neither dark nor white. The Light Grey background belongs to fighters who operate in the space between certainties and have made it comfortable there.

The turned. 419 fighters who crossed into the demon form — hungrier, harder, and unmistakable on sight. The Dojo's second race, and its darker half.

Excess made armor. The Glutton Fight fighters wear their hunger on the outside — not for food, but for everything the Dojo offers.

The battle-cry made flesh — his roar once turned breaking lines around. Now he barks the same orders across a crooked gambling table, losing quietly to himself in the loudest way possible.

Clear eyes. No filter. The unshielded gaze that sees things as they are — not as they're presented or sold.

Heavy. Absolute. The Black Iron Kabuto fighters chose protection over style and discovered that in the Dojo, this IS style.

A live chicken. As a weapon. The Chicken fighters have committed to an approach that nobody expected and found that unexpectedness is half the battle.