Chapter 113: Swift and Decisive Action
On the Mingbo Republic's side, the Nen user who had been observing from the rear turned and bolted almost the instant Haze finished speaking without needing any warning from his teammates.
His instincts screamed that the man in the suit would strike first.
Because he was the closest…
The man sprinted for his life, pushing his body to its limit, weaving through the trees to use the terrain as cover. He ran at full speed
but had barely taken a few steps when he heard the sharp whistle of wind slicing past his back.
Terror seized him. His face twisted with panic.
He tried to turn, to counterattack to repel the approaching god of death
but he barely half-turned before losing his balance and crashing to the ground.
Blood and flesh splattered across his vision. Before he could even perceive the other man's movement
it was already over.
Half his torso exploded, as if crushed beneath a massive machine.
Through the haze of blood, the man caught a final glimpse of the suited figure's back already turning away, sprinting toward his female comrade
his hands drenched in crimson.
We're not even on the same level!
The dying man's gaze shifted to his captain the scarred man charging toward him. Their eyes met in midair.
He couldn't speak anymore, but in his final moments, he sent a silent message with his eyes:
Run! While he's busy killing us run! With your skills, you can still escape!
The scarred man understood instantly. His eyes turned bloodshot.
He stopped abruptly, ceasing his pursuit of Haze. He knew his speed and agility were far inferior he could only watch helplessly as the enemy slaughtered his comrades without mercy.
From the moment the man in the suit had appeared, the entire balance of power had shifted completely.
The scarred man gritted his teeth, turned, and sprinted in the opposite direction his body blurring into a black dot as he vanished into the forest.
Meanwhile, Haze had already reached the woman with the whip.
Seeing her captain desert her, the woman froze in horror.
She immediately redirected her weapon, cracking the whip over and over toward Haze.
But no matter how fast she struck, her blows only grazed his afterimages never his real body. In the blink of an eye, those cold eyes were already before her.
Crack!
A shadow leapt, and Haze's arms crossed in a blur.
The woman's head twisted 180 degrees instantly and she stopped breathing.
Plop.
Her body hit the ground, lifeless, unable to resist.
Machi watched without expression. She already knew the extent of Haze's strength and the team had become somewhat desensitized to his terrifying feats over the past few days.
So, even as Haze's performance surpassed expectations yet again, Machi felt little surprise.
She sheathed her cooking knife and leapt forward, looking toward the direction the scarred man had fled.
"He escaped!"
"He can't," Haze said calmly, making no move to chase. Instead, he ordered, "Take them and find somewhere to hide. I'm not sure if there are ambushers from other factions nearby."
"Understood," Machi nodded.
With that, the ghostly mist surged forward, moving like a stream of flame in the direction the scarred man had gone.
…
Far ahead, the forest blurred rapidly past Steve the scarred man.
Steve was consumed by dread, unable to steady his breathing for even a moment.
He replayed the attack in his mind.
Enhancement type?
No… judging by his Nen's characteristics, it seemed to be something else but how could his Nen's nature, intensity, and sheer destructive power be nearly on par with a pure Enhancer's?
That couldn't just be physical strength alone.
That kick
it had nearly shattered his Ko defense!
Extensive combat experience!
He had sensed the man's movements clearly, yet even after losing one comrade, the next attack had given him no chance to defend or react.
His reflexes and subconscious movements had been read in an instant.
His team had made a fatal error in judging their opponent's strength.
They had completely underestimated the man in the suit.
"Damn it!" Steve cursed, fury twisting his face.
Aside from the man in the suit, the other five were nothing trash, really.
So why…
Why would someone so powerful lead such a naïve team?
It made no sense.
Then suddenly, Steve's breath hitched he froze.
His feet dug into the dirt, sliding across rotting branches and earth, leaving two deep prints behind him.
He looked up
and saw a familiar silhouette emerging from the darkness.
Him!
Steve's pupils shrank.
The other man had caught up, despite his full-speed retreat
as if he'd deliberately looped around to cut him off.
"I thought… the three teams within your restricted area wouldn't attack so carelessly," Haze said coldly, stepping closer. "After all, your goal is the ruins' resources. But each faction seems to have its own plans…"
"Judging from your actions, yours is the least likely to win. You're trying to kill us to buy time… right?"
"Our ambush was perfect and you didn't even notice!"
Steve roared, clenching his fists.
He knew escape was impossible now.
A fierce battle was inevitable.
"You're right. You're strong I'll give you that," Haze said.
"You must've met the other two factions, haven't you? Give me the information I need, and I'll let you go."
"I'm not a fool! Save that talk for children!" Steve snarled and lunged.
His punches were brutal and precise, yet blisteringly fast with subtle shifts in rhythm.
Haze engaged him head-on, dodging most strikes, though a few grazed him.
As their fists collided, a small holographic screen appeared above Haze's head
a scoreboard.
With each of Steve's punches, the numbers flickered sometimes higher, sometimes lower
ranging between 700 and over 900.
"Interesting…" Haze murmured.
In mere seconds, he had analyzed his opponent's ability.
The numbers represented the strength of each punch.
The maximum score was 1000, but the user could choose and lock a value.
Once fixed, the power of his punches remained frozen at that level never weakening.
A terrifying skill.
No one could guarantee every strike would land with perfect force but this ability ensured each one would.
If he maintained destructive power near 1000 points, coupled with enhanced combat tactics, ordinary fighters wouldn't stand a chance.
The key… was accumulating points.
Of course, Haze wasn't an ordinary opponent.
And Steve wouldn't have time to keep building power.
After two minutes of intense fighting, Steve was knocked to the ground by a single punch from Haze.
He leapt up again, spitting blood, defiant.
When he looked up
the screen above Haze's head read 948 Steve's highest recorded strike.
Then the display vanished
and the telekinetic energy around both of Steve's arms surged, doubling in strength.
"This is just the beginning!" Steve shouted, clenching his fists, his aura blazing.
But… strangely, on the other side, Haze withdrew his aura, his expression calm.
"It's over," Haze said quietly.
As soon as he spoke, Steve's face turned pale. He clutched his chest and dropped to his knees, mouth gaping, unable to breathe.
He stared up at Haze in disbelief as the man approached utterly confused by what was happening to his body.
The ghostly mist around Haze swirled violently, echoing with the faint howls of malicious spirits. The interference made concentration difficult but it hardly mattered.
Steve assumed that was Haze's ability.
"I destroyed the tissue in your lungs a minute ago," Haze explained calmly. "But you were fighting so fiercely you didn't even notice. Your physiology or maybe adrenaline numbed your brain. I also temporarily severed some of your sensory nerves."
"If you'd realized earlier, you might've had time to recover. Now, it's too late."
Haze bent down, hoisting the scarred man's limp body his pupils dilated, limbs trembling from oxygen deprivation and carried him away.
The hand-to-hand combat had been nothing but a façade.
The real killing technique lay in acupressure and pulse manipulation.
He had no time to waste.
The fallen souls and the black mist would soon disperse into nothing.
(End of Chapter)