Chapter 268: Establishing My Status 3
"Stop talking and start attacking," I said, impatience creeping into my voice. "I don’t have the patience to remember all your names."
My gaze swept across them, slow and dismissive.
"I’ll just call you Trash One to Trash Ten... depending on your strength."
"BASTARD!" The first attacker moved.
Fast—but not impressive.
His fist shot straight toward my face. No hesitation. No probing strike. Just the intent to crush me.
Before it reached me, his arm turned black. The color spread across his skin like ink soaking into cloth.
"How original," I scoffed.
I tilted my head and dodged , jumping back. But he reacted fast. His arm wrapped around my waist, trying to drag me down.
"You want to fight me in a contest of strength?"
A laugh almost slipped out as I planted my feet firmly on the ground. His momentum stopped as if he had grabbed a steel pillar.
"Go on. Please continue what you’re doing." I gestured casually.
The blackened skin spread further across his body. Muscles tightened. His grip grew stronger.
It seemed that regardless of words, black simply meant one thing — more strength, more speed, and bigger size.
Unfortunately for him, those three?
I was practically the gold standard.
I let him keep pushing, watching the strain build in his arms. His muscles swelled as the black spread further across his shoulders.
Then I moved.
My hand grabbed his wrist. My body twisted. Before he could react, I stepped in, pulled, and lifted.
His feet left the ground.
For a split second, confusion flashed across his face.
Then I flipped backward.
His entire body followed mine as I performed a clean somersault suplex, slamming him head-first into the floor.
BOOM.
The floor cracked, yet he remained conscious.
More durable than expected.
"Not bad," I muttered.
Since he was still awake, there was no reason to stop.
I grabbed his arm before he could recover and yanked him up.
Then I hooked his neck and spun, slamming him down again.
Before his body could settle, I lifted him once more, transitioning smoothly into another throw. His body bounced off the floor, only to be caught mid-fall.
The room filled with repeated thuds.
Lift.
Slam.
Lift again.
Slam.
Someone in the back muttered in disbelief as the chain of throws continued, each one flowing into the next.
By the third slam, cracks spread further across the floor.
By the fifth, his blackened skin started to flicker.
By the seventh, his body went limp.
Only then did I release him.
He collapsed onto the broken floor like a discarded rag.
I rolled my shoulders.
"Combo dropped," I said with mild disappointment. "Still haven’t mastered that one in the game... but I did pretty well in real life."
The crowd cheered, the sound rolling through the entire area.
They were easy to please.
So this was what happened when people lived in an apocalyptic world. Even a simple fight could pull them in like a show.
Now those old movies finally made sense.
I turned to the remaining opponents.
"See that?" I said, nodding toward the cracked floor. "Told you. You should’ve come at me all at once. Otherwise, I end up playing around too much."
They seemed to take the hint. One by one, they started drawing their weapons.
The first to step forward was a young man about my age. He held a katana in his hand. Dark eyes. Dark hair. Calm posture.
That had to be Hans, the swordsman.
He carried a sharp presence, like he was used to people backing away from him.
I clicked my tongue in annoyance.
Not because I was scared.
Because I hated how good looking he was.
Others might call it petty. I just called it my default setting.
My hand curled slightly.
Yeah... I really wanted to punch that face.
Hans stepped forward without rushing. His grip on the katana stayed steady, blade angled down like he didn’t need to show off.
The others spread out behind him, but my attention stayed on Rajid and the tall man, Arron.
They were different. Stronger.
Still...
Trash, compared to me.
Rajid went first. Still charging in like last time meant nothing.
Arron followed right after, taller frame pushing forward like a moving wall. The air around him tightened, pressure stacking with every step.
From the side, Hans dashed in, katana angled for a clean diagonal slash aimed at my blind spot.
Two others came from behind. One with a heavy strike. One with a short blade aimed at my ribs.
The remaining four didn’t wait. They spread wider, sealing every escape route, tightening the circle so there was no easy way out.
Nine angles.
Nine timings.
One push.
I stayed still for half a breath.
Then I moved.
No force. No hard stop. Just movement that slipped between theirs.
Rajid’s strike passed my shoulder by a hair’s width. I turned with it, letting his momentum pull him forward instead of hitting me. My foot slid back, just enough to avoid Arron’s pressure as it crushed the space where I had stood.
Hans’ blade came next.
I tilted my upper body slightly. The katana sliced through empty air, close enough to feel the wind of it, but it never touched.
At the same time, I stepped through the gap between two more attackers. Their weapons clashed behind me.
Their circle broke instantly.
I exhaled slowly, eyes half-lowered.
My Qi rushed through my body, pushing my movements beyond what normal eyes could track.
Space felt slower. Not because it changed, but because I no longer moved at the same pace as everything else.
I stepped forward. One motion.
But it looked like I had moved through three positions at once.
Then I began my vicious counterattack.
Each contact sent them crashing back again, stacking their bodies across the broken floor.
No delay between intent and action.
Just pure flow driven by speed and technique.
"I give you all 2 out of 10 points for that pathetic attempt because I’m feeling generous."
"So what now? You still want to fight, or are you going to admit I’m the strongest here?"
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