Double Trouble Part-I : Two Tyrants at Once?!

Yataro lunged forward, killing intent pouring off him like a blade.

“Die, brat!!” Yataro roared with murderous fury.

Hiroshi didn’t even flinch. The instant the words left Yataro’s mouth, Hiroshi moved.

“ILLUSION!” Hiroshi shouted sharply.

His body blurred—then split.

Ten lookalikes of Hiroshi appeared at once, fanning out across the floor. They weren’t real, but afterimages born from sheer speed, each one moving with perfect timing.

Yataro’s strike tore straight through one of them, the image shattering like mist as the real Hiroshi slipped past the attack unharmed.

Before Yataro could react, every clone—including the real one—raised a hand in unison.

“FLAME COMET, DESTRUCT!” Hiroshi yelled with burning intensity.

Above each raised palm, a massive sphere of compressed fire formed, heat warping the air itself. The room lit up in blazing orange as the comets swelled, ready to rain destruction—

“Clones?” Jinah scoffed calmly from the side. “Not a problem.”

She stepped forward, annoyance lacing her voice.

“SLITHERING BEAM!”

Jinah cupped her hands together and thrust her arms forward. Between her palms, a strange, snake-egg-shaped mass of energy formed—pulsing, unstable. A crack split its surface.

The shell shattered.

A purplish beam burst out, twisting through the air like a living serpent. It slithered unnaturally, weaving through the room before tearing through every single clone in its path.

The illusions vanished instantly—and the beam smashed directly into Hiroshi and the Flame comet disappeared with a few remanant embers.

“Hgh—!” Hiroshi grunted as he was thrown several steps back, boots scraping hard against the floor.

He barely staggered before forcing himself upright, flames flickering stubbornly around his body.

He thrust one arm forward, his expression hardening.

“EMBER BURST, CONCENTRATED!” Hiroshi said with fierce focus.

Ten embers formed in front of his palm.

All the scattered embers around him were pulled inward, compressed violently into a single, massive sphere of blazing energy. The heat intensified until it felt like the air itself might ignite.

Hiroshi aimed straight at Yataro.

But Yataro only grinned.

“SEKI, STAGE TWO—DOMAIN SEKI… ACTIVATE!” Yataro declared coldly.

In an instant, the room changed.

Black sparks erupted everywhere, crawling through the air like dying stars. Darkness poured outward, swallowing the space whole. The walls, the floor—everything vanished beneath an oppressive black veil.

Hiroshi fired.

The attack tore forward—then missed.

The darkness swallowed the flame completely.

“What—?” Hiroshi muttered, eyes widening slightly.

Yataro clenched his fist and punched the air.

“DARKNESS SCATTER!”

A shockwave exploded outward from his strike, releasing thick waves of black energy. The room plunged into even deeper darkness—so dense it felt solid. Vision dropped to almost nothing.

“Guys!” Shinzo shouted, panic creeping into his voice. “I can’t attack! Nothing’s visible!”

“Yeah, dumbass,” Krooke snapped back. “We can see!”

“No, you can’t! It's dark, you can’t see!” Shinzo yelled again, spinning uselessly in the darkness.

“I meant…” Krooke snapped back, clearly annoyed, “I can see that we can’t see!”

There was a brief pause.

Shinzo turned toward Krooke’s voice, utterly baffled.

“How can you see that we can’t see if you yourself can’t see?”

Silence.

Then—

“SHUT UP!” Krooke roared.

Jinah clicked her tongue sharply, pressing her fingers against her temple.

“Your voices hurt my ears!” she said with open irritation.

Shinzo smirked despite the darkness.

“Oh yeah?” he replied savagely. “Like you’ve got the voice of an angel.”

“You wish to die?” Jinah growled.

“I wish to see you dying,” Shinzo shot back without hesitation.

Jinah groaned, clenching her fists in pure frustration.

“You piss me off! POISON CLAWS!”

She slashed violently through the air with her long, sharp nails. From the darkness, a wave of dark-purple energy surged forward—claw-shaped, dripping with venomous intent—as it tore straight toward Shinzo.

“Watch out!” Krooke yelled.

“SCARLETT SLASH!” Krooke roared.

His twin katanas flashed in the suffocating darkness. Krooke swung without hesitation, and from the arcs of his blades, blood-red slashing waves tore through the air, screaming toward Jinah’s attack.

The crimson waves collided head-on with the incoming poison. With a sharp, tearing hiss, they cut cleanly through the dark-purple claws, shredding the poisonous wave apart and dispersing it into nothing before it could land a single hit.

Before he could get hold of himself again—

A presence surged.

Yataro emerged from the darkness directly in front of Krooke, only a few steps away.

“RAPID STRIKES!” Yataro shouted with brutal excitement.

He launched himself forward.

Punches exploded outward—hundreds of them—each one striking with terrifying speed. Krooke barely had time to react before the barrage smashed into him, his body sent flying across the room.

His katanas clattered to the ground, skidding far out of reach.

Krooke coughed as he forced himself up, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

“Tch…” he muttered, wiping it away. “You do know how to throw punches,” he admitted through a strained grin. “But you’re still terrible at them.”

He groaned, frustration creeping in.

“I could’ve shown you what real boxing looks like… if I could see!”

“Got you covered,” Hiroshi’s voice cut through the darkness.

“FLAME COMET, DAYLIGHT SUN!” Hiroshi shouted with unwavering resolve.

He raised both arms skyward. A massive comet of fire formed above him—brighter, hotter than before. Hiroshi launched it straight into the ceiling.

The explosion erupted like a rising sun.

Light flooded the room, tearing the darkness apart as the black sparks evaporated instantly. Shadows retreated, vision returned, and the battlefield was revealed once more.

The domain shattered.

“Alright,” Krooke cracked his neck, a grin tugging at his lips despite the chaos. “Watch me and learn, kiddo,” he said with reckless confidence. “LEECHING STRIKES!”

He hurled himself straight at Yataro—no katanas this time. Just fists.

A bloody-red layer of energy wrapped around his hands, pulsing like a living thing as he closed the distance. Krooke swung.

Punch after punch followed, heavy and deliberate. Yataro met them effortlessly, blocking and parrying with minimal movement, as if Krooke’s attacks were coming in slow motion.

“That’s the best you can do?” Yataro mocked, his voice calm, almost bored.

Krooke didn’t respond. His eyes were sharp, focused—not frustrated.

He was watching.

Tracking every counter. Every shift of Yataro’s shoulders. The rhythm of his defense.

“Here goes nothing,” Krooke muttered under his breath.

Then—

The punches changed.

One moment they were slow. The next, they exploded forward.

Twice the speed. Then three times. Then faster still—his fists blurring, red energy screaming as each strike fed into the next. Yataro’s expression finally shifted as he was forced back half a step, arms moving faster to keep up.

“Tch—” Yataro clicked his tongue, now genuinely pressured. He continued countering, but the margin was thinning.

Krooke’s fists exploded into quick motion, bloody-red energy screaming as their speed multiplied. What had been punches became blinding streaks, each strike tearing through the air with violent force. The ground beneath them cracked under the pressure of the sudden acceleration.

Whack!

Counter!

Boom!

Whack!

Counter!

Whack!

Boom!

Yataro was driven fully into defense. His arms snapped up again and again, intercepting blows at the last possible instant as shockwaves detonated with every collision.

Red and black sparks burst outward on impact, the repeated clashes sounding like continuous thunder.

Their fists slammed into guards at point-blank range, power grinding against power as the air shook violently around them—an unbroken, brutal exchange where a single mistake would mean total collapse.

On the other side, Hiroshi and Shinzo stood together while Jinah was nowhere to be seen.

“Let’s both find Jinah and keep her busy as well.” Shinzo said as his eyes scanned the room. “We might be able to defeat her ourselves.”

“Oh really?” a voice whispered behind him.

Shinzo’s blood ran cold. Hiroshi was startled and stepped back.

Jinah appeared at his back in an instant, her long nails glinting as she raised her hand toward his neck. “You’re awfully confident for someone who is about to—”

ZWOOM!

A plasma bullet blasted straight into her chest.

“Gah—!” Jinah groaned, staggering back as smoke hissed from the impact point.

“ARGH!” she screamed, clutching the burn. “You brat! You dare use those bullets on me?! It burns!”

Fury twisted her face. She lashed out with a brutal kick.

Shinzo barely had time to react before the blow smashed into him, sending his body flying all the way back to the starting end of the room, skidding hard across the floor.

“Damn,” Hiroshi muttered, watching him tumble. “You kick hard.”

Jinah turned toward Hiroshi, pain fading into a slow, devious smile.

“But you know…” Hiroshi continued calmly, flames flickering around his feet, “I believe in gender equality.”

Jinah blinked, momentarily confused

Hiroshi vanished and reappeared right behind her.

And then—

WHACK!

He drove a crushing kick straight into her back. Jinah’s eyes widened as she was launched forward, her body flying through the air toward Shinzo’s position.

Shinzo looked up, eyes widening.

Then he grinned.

He didn’t waste a second and stood up.

“Headlock,” Shinzo said coolly, locking his stance. “Aim.”

Both blasters snapped upward, aimed directly at Jinah’s head as she flew toward him. “HEADLOCK SHOT!” 

ZWOOM! ZWOOM!

Plasma bullets slammed into her face, sizzling violently as they burned across her skin. Jinah screamed mid-air before crashing down hard, thudding right at Shinzo’s feet.

Smoke rose from her scorched face as she twitched weakly.

Shinzo leaned forward slightly, smirking down at her.

“Aww,” he mocked casually. “Baby gave up so early?”

Jinah writhed on the floor, her body trembling as her energy struggled to knit her burned head back together. The regeneration was slow—uneven—painfully incomplete.

Shinzo exhaled sharply and glanced toward Hiroshi, relief flickering across his face. But as his eyes shifted past him, that relief froze.

Something was wrong.

Krooke lay sprawled on the ground, struggling to push himself up. Deep gouges and fractured lines scarred the floor around him, telling the story clearly—he hadn’t fallen on his own.

And worse—

Yataro was gone.

Hiroshi turned toward Shinzo, a proud smile forming on his face.

“Great work, Shinzo.” he said calmly.

Shinzo didn’t hear the praise.

A shadow stretched across the floor behind Hiroshi.

His eyes widened.

“HIROSHI! WATCH OUT!” Shinzo screamed.

Too late.

“FINISHER PUNCH!” Yataro roared from the darkness.

A fist engulfed in pure, condensed dark energy surged forward, aimed straight at Hiroshi’s exposed back—power coiled to end the fight in a single blow.

Then—

SWOOSH!

The air split.

A sharp red streak tore across the battlefield at blinding speed.

KSSHT!

The katana pierced Yataro's flesh.

“GAH!” Yataro cried out as a katana drove clean through his arm, the dark energy around his fist shattering instantly.

Time seemed to stutter.

Hiroshi spun around just in time to see Yataro stagger, the blade lodged deep in his arm. Yataro snarled, gripping the hilt before ripping it free with a wet tear and flinging it aside.

He didn’t get another chance.

WHAM!

Hiroshi stepped in and drove a brutal kick straight into Yataro’s face. The impact echoed violently as Yataro was launched away, crashing hard across the floor.

Hiroshi exhaled and turned his head toward Krooke, who had forced himself back upright, breathing heavily.

“Thanks for saving my ass.” Hiroshi said sincerely.

Krooke wiped blood from his mouth and smirked faintly.

“You’re welcome,” he replied, voice strained. “But focus on the battle. I won’t save you every time.”

Hiroshi nodded once in affirmation.

Then he turned.

He began walking toward Yataro—slow, deliberate, flames flickering calmly around his feet.

“You and Shinzo take care of Jinah,” Hiroshi said without looking back. “I’ll handle this bastard.”

“On it.” Krooke answered immediately.

Krooke pushed off the ground and rushed toward Jinah as Hiroshi continued forward, eyes locked onto Yataro—each step heavy with intent.

Yataro slowly pushed himself upright, a low groan escaping his throat as pain rippled through his body. His glare snapped forward, burning with fury.

“You... brat!” he snarled.

Hiroshi calmly unsheathed his daggers, the metallic ring cutting through the tension. Yataro began walking toward him, each step heavy. They stopped inches apart—breaths colliding, eyes locked, neither willing to yield.

“So,” Yataro muttered darkly, “you wanna die first?”

Hiroshi’s expression didn’t waver. “Let our clash decide that,” he replied evenly.

Yataro’s gaze dropped to the daggers in Hiroshi’s hands. A crooked smile spread across his face.

“Blades versus fists? Real heroic.”

In a single, fluid motion, Hiroshi sheathed both daggers. The sound was sharp. Final.

Yataro blinked, momentarily thrown off.

“You know,” Hiroshi said calmly, rolling his shoulders, “I’m not all flames. I’ve got muscles too.”

Yataro cracked his knuckles, dark energy seeping between his fingers.

“So,” he said, “what are we waiting for?”

Hiroshi leaned closer to Yataro's face, stance lowering.

“Yeah…” he murmured. “Let’s begin.”

They vanished.

The collision was instantaneous.

Fist smashed into fist, detonating a shockwave that blasted outward in a violent ring. The air screamed as black and orange energy exploded between them, sparks tearing through the battlefield like fragments of broken stars.

Their punches blurred beyond sight.

Every strike left a blazing trail—flames carving through the air, darkness tearing it apart—each impact cracking like thunder. They parried at point-blank range, fists colliding again and again, neither yielding, neither backing down. The ground beneath them fractured with every exchange.

Hiroshi drove forward relentlessly, fire roaring with each swing. Yataro answered with brutal precision, dark energy hardening his counters as he forced Hiroshi back half a step—only for Hiroshi to surge right back in. Their forearms slammed together, sparks erupting violently as power ground against power.

The space between them ceased to exist.

BOOM!

BAM!

BASH!

BOOM!

BASH!

BOOM!

BOOM!

BAM!

They were locked in a savage, unbroken exchange—flames screaming against darkness, fists moving faster than thought—each blow threatening to shatter bone, each counter fueled by sheer will.

Across the battlefield, Jinah’s body finally finished regenerating. The burn marks on her face filled and merged with her smooth skin as she rose to her feet. Shinzo instinctively went back multiple steps, taking a safe distance.

“Oh, boy…” Jinah sneered, stretching her arm forward. “You’re so done for. SLUDGE SHOWER!”

Her palm opened.

Thousands of small balls of acidic, poisonous sludge erupted forward in a relentless wave.

“CALIBUR STORM!” Shinzo shouted.

A barrage of plasma bullets tore through the air, detonating sludge after sludge mid-flight. But the collision wasn’t clean—acidic droplets splashed onto Shinzo’s clothes and shoes, instantly corroding the outer layer slightly and leaving very tiny black burn marks behind.

“Tch—!” Shinzo clenched his teeth. “If this keeps going, this acidic sludge will burn through my body!”

Jinah kept advancing, her attack unrelenting. Shinzo retreated step by step, firing with sharp precision, fear tightening his chest as the distance shrank.

Then—

“DEVIL’S RING!”

Krooke’s voice cut through the chaos.

He thrust his arm forward. A massive red circle flared into existence, instantly expanding and sealing around Jinah. The ring solidified into a translucent crimson dome.

The sludge slammed into it—then slid harmlessly down. Shinzo’s plasma bullets ricocheted away, deflected cleanly.

“What the hell?!” Shinzo exclaimed.

“This’ll keep her locked in for ten minutes,” Krooke said quickly. “We focus on helping Hiroshi finish Yataro.”

“What the hell was that move?!” Shinzo demanded.

“Can’t explain now,” Krooke replied, already moving. “I’ll do it later. I promise.”

They rushed forward together.

Ahead of them, Hiroshi and Yataro’s clash raged on—fists colliding, flames and darkness tearing the air apart—each blow shaking the battlefield as the true heart of the fight ignited.

Shinzo stared wide-eyed at the clash, sparks raining like a storm of shattered stars.

“Awesome…” he breathed in pure amazement. “Hiroshi knows how to throw punches even better than you!”

“Shut up!” Krooke snapped instantly, then turned sharply toward the battlefield. “Hiroshi! I’ve managed to capture Jinah—but it won’t last long! We have to take Yataro down now!”

Hiroshi answered without breaking rhythm, fists colliding violently with Yataro’s.

“We don’t know his weak spot yet!” he shouted through the exchange.

“AND YOU NEVER WILL!” Yataro roared.

Their clash intensified.

Every collision detonated into violent eruptions of power, black and orange blurs exploding outward, sparks raining uncontrollably as fists met again and again. The air screamed. The floor trembled. Shinzo raised his arm instinctively, shielding his eyes from the blinding storm of energy.

“I’ve got you covered for that,” Krooke said sharply. “SOUL SEARCH!”

He brought his hands together and closed his eyes.

The world shifted.

From Krooke’s perspective, color vanished completely. Everything became black and white—silent, still. The room glowed white like an empty void. Hiroshi and Shinzo appeared as faint, light-gray silhouettes.

Yataro stood out like a wound in reality. It seemed as if he was made of pure black shadow.

And there—flickering relentlessly—was a small red light, pulsing in Yataro’s upper central abdomen.

Krooke’s eyes snapped open.

“Hiroshi!” he yelled urgently. “His weakness is his Solar Plexus!”

“His weakness is his what?!” Shinzo shouted back in confusion.

Krooke shot him a sharp look.

“It is a place in the upper central abdomen,” he explained quickly. “Right in the center of the body.”

“In the chest?” Shinzo guessed.

“No,” Krooke corrected. “Lower than the chest. Above the navel. Below the sternum. The soft part between the ribcage.”

Hiroshi heard them—barely.

“I could locate it on Gorokko because he was huge,” Hiroshi said, strain creeping into his voice as he continued clashing. “But Yataro’s smaller. I’ll need help to locat—”

WHAM!

Yataro’s fist slammed forward with terrifying precision.

It struck Hiroshi exactly where Krooke had described.

“H—GHH—!!”

Hiroshi was launched backward like a broken projectile, smashing into the wall before collapsing hard onto the floor. His vision blurred violently, breath knocked clean out of him as pain ripped through his core.

Yataro straightened slowly, rolling his shoulder.

“That’s where it’s located,” he said coldly. “And don’t you dare call me short.”

His gaze shifted.

Locked onto Krooke.

“And you,” Yataro continued, voice dripping with menace. “How did you find out my weakness, huh?”

A twisted smile spread across his face.

“Doesn’t matter. I’ll kill you first. Then the white-haired idiot.”

His eyes flicked briefly to Hiroshi’s fallen body. “And then the flame demi-god.”

Krooke clenched his fists, red energy stirring faintly around him, body tensing for the inevitable.

“Say your goodbyes, magic boy,” Yataro declared.

“DRAIN PUNCH!”

He vanished—then reappeared—launching himself at Krooke with lethal speed, fist aimed directly at his solar plexus.

“KROOKE, WATCH OUT!!” Shinzo screamed.

Yataro was inches away from killing Krooke.

Shinzo moved before fear, before logic—before anything at all.

He leapt between them.

It was a fool’s wish.

The fist didn’t stop. It didn’t hesitate. Wrapped in crushing dark energy, it drove straight into Shinzo’s solar plexus, sinking deep as if his body wasn’t even there.

The impact was terrifyingly quiet.

Then Shinzo’s body jolted.

The punch didn’t just break him—it emptied him. His life force was torn out violently, siphoned away in an instant. Shinzo’s skin lost its color at once, turning deathly pale—unnatural, almost wax-like—as warmth vanished from his body.

At that same moment, Hiroshi finally forced himself upright, pain screaming through every muscle.

And then he saw it.

Just moments ago, Shinzo had been standing—fighting, shouting, alive.

Now Yataro’s arm was through his body, and Shinzo hung there limply, pale and lifeless.

Hiroshi’s mind refused to accept it.

Yataro slowly withdrew his arm, dark energy peeling away as blood dripped from his fist. He flicked it aside casually, shaking Shinzo’s blood from his hand.

That sight—

It dragged Hiroshi back.

Majuro’s death.

The blasted head.

Kurumi shaking Majuro’s blood from his hands.

The rage came rushing back.

But this time, it was different.

There was no explosion of emotion. No wild fury.

This rage was pure.

It was intense.

It sank deep into Hiroshi’s core—silent, heavy, and terrifyingly controlled.

Shinzo’s body collapsed to the ground with a dull thud.

“Oh, wow,” Yataro said pleasantly, almost impressed. “This boy had so much power.”

He rolled his shoulder, dark energy pulsing stronger than before.

“I couldn’t let it go to waste, so I absorbed it.”

A grin stretched across his face.

“And I feel stronger!”

His gaze shifted.

Locked onto Krooke.

“Now then,” Yataro said calmly, “let’s see if you have some good power too.”

Krooke turned and tried to run.

He didn’t get the chance.

A brutal force smashed into his left leg—

CRACK!

The sound echoed sickeningly through the room as his tibia and fibula shattered instantly under a low sweep kick by Yataro. Krooke cried out as his balance vanished, his body slamming hard onto the floor.

A sharp, manic cackle burst from Yataro’s mouth as he laughed hysterically.

Hiroshi saw everything, and couldn’t process any of it.

Shinzo’s death. 

Krooke’s broken leg. 

Yataro’s laughter.

It all blended together into a single, crushing realization.

They were losing.

Hiroshi stood completely still. Not a single muscle moved.

He stared at Shinzo’s lifeless body as Krooke’s painful groans echoed through the room—overlapped by Yataro’s hysterical laughter.

Then—

Yataro kicked Krooke hard in the back.

Krooke’s body was launched across the battlefield, slamming violently into the wall as dust and debris exploded outward.

The laughter continued.

Hiroshi still did nothing.

He just stood there—staring.

Not blinking at all.

Then—

A violent shiver tore through his spine, sharp enough to steal the air from his lungs. His fingers twitched. His jaw tightened as if his body was trying to reject what his eyes were seeing.

“Sh… Shin… Shinzo…” His voice came out broken, barely audible. “Why…”

The word felt wrong. Empty. Like it had no place in reality.

For a moment, there was only silence.

Then his shoulders began to shake.

“Why…?” he muttered again, louder this time. His nails dug into his palms, drawing blood that trickled down slowly. “Why…?”

His head snapped up.

“WHY?!” Hiroshi screamed, his voice cracking violently. “TELL ME! WHY DID YOU KILL HIM?!”

The grief snapped.

“YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO KILL ME!” he roared, veins bulging across his neck. “I WAS THE ONE FIGHTING YOU! NOT HIM!”

Yataro clicked his tongue, visibly annoyed.

“Please,” he said lazily, rubbing his ear. “Don’t shout, brat. Your voice hurts my ears.”

He glanced toward Krooke.

“Don’t worry. I’ll fulfill your wish soon and let you meet your friend,” Yataro said coldly. “Just let me finish that pesky mage first.”

He stepped forward.

Then faster.

Then—

“DRAIN PUNCH!”

Yataro’s fist surged forward, energy coiling violently around it as he hurled himself toward Krooke.

But before the punch could land—

Something caught it.

No—

Someone caught it.

Yataro’s fist stopped dead in mid-air.

Caught effortlessly.

It was Hiroshi.

“What the—” Yataro was shocked at what he saw.

No sound. No footsteps. No disturbance in the air.

He was simply there.

“He just… appeared… How?!” his thoughts spiraled.

Hiroshi’s grip tightened.

Bones creaked.

“I thought I’d give you an easy death,” Hiroshi said, his voice low, trembling with something far darker than anger. “But not now…”

His fingers crushed harder.

“Now, you’ll experience pain,” he continued. “True pain.”

Yataro groaned as his fist began to deform under the pressure, yet he couldn’t break free.

Hiroshi’s eyes changed.

The light inside them—gone.

What replaced it was a dull, lifeless red, cold and merciless.

His hair slowly lifted upward, swaying unnaturally, like flames rising in a raging wildfire.

A fiery red aura seeped out of his body, thick and oppressive, swallowing the space around him. The ground beneath his feet cracked as his body began to twitch—violent, involuntary spasms as power surged beyond control.

Behind them, Krooke stared at Hiroshi. Not in fear, but in disbelief… and respect. 

“He… saved me?”

“The same guy who punched me in the face a short time ago… just saved my life?” His thoughts spiraled.

“And Shinzo…” His thoughts hit harder.

“That idiot… The one who kept annoying me… who almost picked a fight with me…” His throat tightened.

“He died… Just to save me..? B-But… why…?” Krooke’s fists trembled against the ground.

“Why would someone throw their life away… for me?” His eyes drifted to Shinzo’s lifeless body.

And for the first time—

The pain wasn’t physical, it was something far deeper. 

But he didn't have any more time to think  as something far greater was going on in front of his eyes currently.

Yataro was getting more and more uncomfortable while looking at Hiroshi's current form.

His eyes flicked toward Shinzo’s body.

Something had fallen—

The Varkox meter.

It had turned on.

Yataro kicked off the ground and barely got himself free from Hiroshi’s grip. His hand trembled as he picked up the device.

And it's screen displayed the numbers—

1,500,000

The number made his blood freeze.

“O–One…” his voice shook uncontrollably. “ONE POINT FIVE MILLION?!”

His breath hitched.

“That’s… that’s more than mine… I’m only at one point two million… His Varkox level… it’s equal to Jinah’s!” His mind rushed in panic.

The meter beeped.

Once.

Then again.

It recalculated.

The screen flickered.

And then—

1,700,000

Yataro’s face drained of color.

“One point seven million?!” he thought in disbelief. “How the hell did it jump by two hundred thousand so fast?!”

Hiroshi stepped forward.

Slowly.

Each step felt heavy—like the world itself was recoiling from him.

His body twitched violently inside the blazing red aura, his presence no longer human—no longer sane.

He was now like a walking calamity.

He stopped.

Lifted his head.

His voice dropped—cold, calm, terrifyingly empty. 

“Prepare to die.”

To Be Continued…