The Unkillable Man

Section 1: The Blah Blah Speech

The moment Jason landed on the mall’s marble floor, Raymond sensed his hostility.

Unlike the gangsters he’d fought earlier, Jason carried himself with absolute confidence. Calm and composed, he held an iron staff in his right hand.

His tongue was still sticking out of his mouth.

Raymond charged without warning, throwing a powerful punch at Jason.

CONCUSSION PUNCH!

A violent vibration surged through his fist.

Jason glided one meter backward, dodging the attack. In the same motion, he spun his staff around his back and swung at Raymond’s waist.

WHACK!

Raymond blocked with his arm, but the blow launched him straight into an unfortunate bystander.

BAM!

Both men crashed onto the marble. The bystander spat blood and lost consciousness while Raymond struggled to rise.

Jason made no attempt to pursue him. He simply lowered his staff and began speaking.

“Powerful forces keep this world in balance: the police, the criminal underworld, the Kungfu Association, the Humble Organization, the Frugal Organization, and countless smaller factions.”

He continued calmly.

“I stand among the highest leaders of the criminal underworld. I command hundreds of men, who command others beneath them.”

“Robinson and Canelo are two of my most trusted men. Sean was once one of them, too.”

Jason paused, his expression growing colder.

“But Sean… disappointed me.”

Up on the second-floor walkway, Brian had been listening to the entire speech, growing increasingly impatient.

Blah, blah, blah! Spare me the grand speech! Just say you’re here to kick Raymond’s ass. Get to the damn point already!

Then he spotted Michael lying unconscious in the battlefield, the filthy sock still stuffed in his mouth.

Wait a minute… Keep talking, you bastard. I’ll get Michael out of here.

Without hesitation, Brian vaulted over the railing and jumped straight down to the mall floor.

Meanwhile, Jason was still delivering his speech.

“And then there’s YOU!”

He pointed his iron staff directly at Raymond.

“You humiliated my men! You destroyed our reputation! You turned our entire hierarchy upside down!”

His voice dropped, cold and firm.

“I’ve had enough of your destruction, you squinty-eyed, funny-looking guy!”

He lowered his staff slightly.

“Today, I’m here to restore our power. And you’re going to pay for everything you’ve done.”

Section 2: Crappy First Aid

Brian rushed toward Michael, still unconscious in the battlefield.

While Jason kept talking, Brian scooped Michael into a princess carry and hurried toward the public restroom.

Once he reached a safe distance from the fighting, he carefully lowered Michael onto the floor.

SQUISH!

A strange, wet sound came from beneath Michael’s back.

Brian paused at the wet sound. Nothing seemed wrong, so he ignored it.

He had placed Michael on the exact spot where a guy had pooped earlier, right out in the open.

Captain Lam lay on a fresh pile of human feces, his expensive shirt slowly soaking up the mess.

Unaware of the disaster, Brian turned his attention to Michael’s face.

The filthy sock still lodged in Michael’s mouth reeked horribly. Foul fumes seemed to rise from it, as if a cursed object were leaking poison.

Brian nearly gagged.

“No wonder he’s unconscious! That thing could knock out even Boss Colin in a second, from a distance!”

Holding back his disgust, Brian grabbed the sock and pulled it out of Michael’s mouth.

SPLURCH!

Michael coughed twice, sending a stream of pale foam dripping down his lips and chin.

Brian spotted a crumpled piece of paper lying beside Michael.

Perfect! Just what I needed.

He picked it up and wiped Michael’s mouth, cheeks, and chin, removing the foam.

But as he continued wiping, something seemed terribly wrong.

Instead of getting cleaner, Michael’s face grew filthier. Yellow stains spread across his cheeks, and tiny white worms crawled near his mouth.

Brian examined the paper. Thick brown stains covered it, and it smelled horrible.

To his horror, he realized it was a piece of used toilet paper that someone had already wiped their ass with!

Oh shit… You’ve gotta be kidding me. That’s literally shit!

Brian dropped the paper in disgust.

He checked Michael’s breathing and heartbeat. Both were normal.

Brian sent an emergency pickup code to the Humble Organization’s medical team.

With help on the way, Brian turned toward the battlefield.

Jason had finished his speech and waited for Raymond’s response.

Raymond lowered his head slightly and muttered under his breath.

“You waste your breath. I only hear the sound of shattering glass windows now.”

Brian leaned against the restroom wall and watched, unconcerned that Captain Lam lay unconscious in human feces with someone else’s feces smeared across his face.

Section 3: Stationary Dominance

Raymond raised his fist, his eyes locked on Jason.

Without warning, he slammed it into the marble floor with tremendous force.

CONCUSSION SHOCKWAVE!

BOOOOM!

The marble cracked as violent vibrations spread in every direction.

Jason planted his feet, raised his iron staff overhead, and slammed it into the floor.

BANG!

Jason’s shockwave met Raymond’s head-on, canceling most of the impact.

Jason trembled slightly, his cheeks wobbling comically for several seconds.

Yet he remained standing, completely unharmed.

Jason tilted his head and gave Raymond a confident look.

“AOE attacks, huh? Fine. Let’s see how you handle mine!”

He gripped his staff with both hands and raised it overhead.

Then he brought it down in a devastating overhead swing.

WHOOOOSH!

A massive shockwave burst forward, tearing across the marble floor in a straight line.

Raymond reacted instantly, dropping low and rolling sideways to avoid the attack.

The shockwave hit three spectators, shredding their clothes and leaving them naked, bruised, and swollen.

The man and two women fled the mall, desperately covering themselves.

Jason didn’t even bother looking at them.

Raymond sprang up and charged with another CONCUSSION PUNCH!

Jason glided one meter back, dodged, and struck Raymond with his staff, sending him crashing across the floor.

Near the restroom wall, Brian watched the battle with growing concern.

Damn… Raymond’s getting owned.

But something about Jason’s movements caught his attention.

Despite his advantage, Jason barely left his spot. He shifted just enough to dodge and counter, staying in the same small area.

Even when Raymond lay vulnerable, Jason never pursued him.

Brian narrowed his eyes.

Wait a minute… He’s dominating this fight. Why isn’t he pressing his advantage?

Brian studied Jason’s carefully controlled movements.

No… That’s not arrogance. He’s deliberately limiting his movements.

Brian’s expression grew serious.

Something’s holding him back. But what?

Section 4: Breaking the Rhythm

Raymond got back on his feet, wiping blood from his mouth.

Every attack met the same response: Jason glided back, dodged, and struck with his staff.

The same damn trick, every time.

Raymond clenched his fists.

Same damn trick, huh? Let’s see if you can keep up when I pick up the pace!

He charged again with a completely different approach.

Raymond unleashed a lightning-fast barrage from multiple angles, mixing ordinary punches with deadly Concussion Punches.

Some were ordinary punches; others carried devastating vibrations.

And the worst part?

Jason couldn’t tell which was which until a punch actually landed on his body.

Jason immediately recognized the danger.

Jason’s one-meter glide was no longer enough. Fists came from every direction, forcing him to defend with his staff.

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

Jason blocked strike after strike as Raymond pressed forward, denying him any chance to counter.

Left hook. Right jab. Another Concussion Punch!

Jason deflected each blow with his staff, struggling to hold his position.

Then, an opening appeared.

BAM!

Raymond slipped through Jason’s defense and landed a clean punch directly into his side.

Jason recoiled, leaving his chest exposed.

Raymond seized the opportunity.

He drove a powerful straight-leg kick into Jason’s chest.

CRAAACK!

For the first time since the battle began, Jason was sent flying.

Jason flew several meters, crashed onto the marble, and rolled twice onto his back, staff still in hand.

Raymond lowered his leg, breathing hard as he watched Jason.

Lucky bastard. That was only a regular punch. If it had been a Concussion Punch, that would’ve been the end of you!

But Jason wasn’t finished—not even close.

Section 5: The Gloves Are Off

Jason rose, gripping his iron staff tightly.

Raymond charged at once with another barrage of ordinary punches mixed with Concussion Punches.

But this time, Jason changed his approach.

He stepped back, ducked beneath Raymond’s punch, and burst forward at incredible speed.

Damn it… I’m gonna regret this. Staying put is no longer an option. But moving at full speed will make me overheat in no time.

He’d limited his movements to control his body temperature, but Raymond had forced him to abandon that strategy.

Raymond’s eyes widened.

What the hell?! So this guy CAN move!

Jason attacked from another angle before Raymond could react.

WHACK!

Raymond barely blocked the staff and counterpunched. Jason dodged, spun, and struck again.

CLANG! BAM! WHACK!

The fight raced across the mall at incredible speed. Their punches and staff strikes cracked the marble floor and nearby walls.

Twenty blows. Thirty blows.

Neither fighter backed down.

Raymond launched another Concussion Punch, but Jason slipped past it and spun his iron staff around his back, building momentum with each rotation.

Once.

Twice.

Then he brought the staff down with tremendous force, aiming straight for Raymond’s chest.

Raymond instinctively crossed both forearms to block.

CRAAACK!

The iron staff smashed into his guard, fracturing both forearms with a sickening crack.

Before Raymond could recover, Jason twisted his staff and swung upward, striking him directly in the stomach.

BAAAAM!

The blow launched Raymond nearly ten meters into the air.

Moments later, he came crashing down.

BOOOOM!

Raymond struck the marble, shattering tiles and fracturing his pelvis and other bones.

Jason immediately rushed forward, smashing his iron staff into Raymond’s ribs.

CRAAACK!

Several ribs fractured under the impact.

Jason swung again, striking Raymond’s left shin.

CRAAACK!

The blow snapped his shinbone, leaving a jagged piece of bone sticking out through his skin.

Raymond groaned, vomited three thick sprays of blood, and collapsed onto his back.

For a moment, he lay completely still.

Then, unbelievably, Raymond began pushing himself off the floor.

His forearms and ribs were broken, his pelvis shattered, and his shinbone snapped through the skin.

Yet he stood firmly on both legs, moving his injured arms as though nothing had happened.

Jason stared at him in disbelief.

“Mmph… wha… mmgh…?”

His mouth hung open, with his tongue still sticking out, making his shocked muttering completely unintelligible.

For the first time, even Jason seemed shaken.

Raymond clenched his fists, ignoring his shattered bones.

A violent vibration surged through his right fist.

CONCUSSION PUNCH!

And once again, he charged straight toward Jason.

Section 6: Beyond Flesh and Bone

Near the restroom wall, Brian watched Raymond in disbelief.

Through his Golden Eyes, Brian saw fractures throughout Raymond’s body.

His muscles were torn, his joints badly damaged.

Yet he kept charging forward, throwing powerful punches as though nothing had happened.

Brian focused his Golden Eyes on Raymond’s face. Behind his eyes, a strange black mist swirled, as though something moved inside his head.

With injuries like that, he should be dead! Even if he’s somehow still alive, he should be lying helplessly on the floor, unable to move! So how the hell is he still fighting? That black mist in his eyes… This isn’t adrenaline or willpower. Something else is driving him. Could he actually be… possessed?

Meanwhile, Raymond continued his relentless assault, occasionally muttering something about smashing the next glass wall.

Despite his shattered bones, his arms moved freely, delivering a chaotic mixture of ordinary punches and deadly Concussion Punches.

Jason dodged and counterattacked, but Raymond kept coming. They raced across the mall, exchanging over a hundred blows in less than a minute.

CLANG! BAM! WHACK!

But as the battle raged on, Jason’s body began to change.

Jason’s yellowish skin turned deep red as his temperature soared and steam poured from his shoulders.

Every movement pushed him closer to his limit.

As Raymond charged again, Jason thrust his iron staff forward, forcing him to keep his distance.

Then he opened his mouth wide.

FWOOOOOSH!

A massive stream of fire erupted from Jason’s mouth, engulfing Raymond’s entire head.

His long, messy hair and tangled beard burned away almost instantly.

But when the flames cleared, Raymond’s face remained completely unharmed.

Even more surprisingly, his wild hair had been burned into a neat, short hairstyle. His beard was gone, revealing a clean, unexpectedly handsome face.

For the first time in ages, Raymond actually looked rather attractive.

Watching from the restroom wall, Brian’s eyes widened.

“What the hell?! That guy can breathe fire too?!”

Jason gave no response. His skin glowed deep red as steam continued rising from his shoulders.

He gripped his staff, ready to continue.

Section 7: One Final Barrage

Jason charged forward, hammering Raymond’s shoulders, ribs, arms, and legs with his iron staff.

WHACK! BAM! CRACK!

Each impact shattered more bone.

Ten strikes. Fifteen. Twenty.

Blood splattered across the marble.

Yet Raymond kept advancing.

He even threw punches with arms that should no longer have moved.

For nearly a minute, Jason drove him across the battlefield with one brutal strike after another. Still, Raymond refused to fall.

Then, just as Jason raised his staff for another strike, Raymond suddenly lunged forward.

CONCUSSION PUNCH!

BAAAAM!

Raymond’s fist smashed directly into Jason’s chest, sending violent vibrations through his entire body.

Jason’s eyes widened as a massive mouthful of blood erupted from his lips.

The impact launched him several meters backward, spraying blood through the air before he crashed onto the marble floor.

BOOOOM!

He rolled across the shattered tiles, desperately planting his iron staff against the ground to stop himself.

“COUGH! COUGH!”

Struggling onto his knees, Jason coughed violently and vomited another thick stream of blood.

His ears rang, his vision blurred, and dizziness struck as he fought to regain his balance.

Jason shook his head, chest burning and hands trembling, then forced himself upright with his staff.

A short distance away, Raymond stood motionless, his shattered body trembling slightly.

His eyes remained unfocused, and his lips moved faintly without making a sound.

Near the restroom wall, Brian focused his Golden Eyes on Raymond’s mouth, reading every movement of his lips.

“I… need to get to the next glass wall… Get out of my way…”

Brian narrowed his eyes. Looking deeper into Raymond’s body, he finally noticed something extraordinary.

Dark energy was flowing through his broken limbs, supporting his shattered bones and forcing his muscles to move. His injuries hadn’t healed at all.

So that’s it! That dark energy is holding his entire body up! Without it, he’d be lying dead on the floor! But what’s controlling it? Is he really possessed?

Jason, unaware of Brian’s discovery, stared at Raymond.

His skin had turned deep red, and thick steam poured from his shoulders. His tongue hung out as his body struggled to release the excess heat.

Just one more round of strikes… That’s all I need to finish this bastard!

He tightened his grip on the iron staff, preparing for another devastating barrage.

Suddenly—

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

A sharp alarm erupted from his wristwatch.

WARNING: CRITICAL OVERHEAT! ORGAN FAILURE IMMINENT!

Jason glanced at the flashing screen, his expression darkening.

Damn it! Bad timing! I was so close to finishing this bastard!

He looked up at Raymond, who was already advancing toward him again.

Steam continued pouring from Jason’s shoulders as he reluctantly lowered his iron staff.

Section 8: The Ice Cream Truck

Jason and Raymond faced each other across the shattered marble, locked in a tense standoff. Neither moved.

Steam rose from Jason’s overheated body as he gripped his staff. Raymond held a steady fighting stance despite his shattered bones and torn muscles.

A cheerful melody drifted in from outside the mall.

It was the familiar jingle of an ice cream truck.

Jason turned toward the sound.

There it is. Right on schedule.

Without warning, he charged toward the mall’s exterior wall and swung his iron staff.

BOOOOM!

The wall exploded, leaving a man-sized hole. Before the dust settled, Jason dashed outside and leaped into the passing ice cream truck.

The rear door slammed shut, and the truck sped away.

Inside, the freezing compartment’s walls and shelves were coated in frost. Two workers waited for him.

“Boss! You’re overheating! Please, have some ice water!”

One worker handed Jason a bottle of ice-cold water while the other began fanning him rapidly with a folded paper fan.

FSSSSSHHHH!

Steam poured from Jason’s burning skin as he sank into a seat. The freezing air slowly cooled him.

One worker examined him with concern.

“Boss, your condition is getting worse. Your pores are shrinking, and you’re barely sweating anymore. Forgive me for asking, but what kind of opponent could possibly push you to this point?”

Jason took a long drink of water before answering.

“His strength was never the problem. I controlled most of the fight. I shattered his bones, tore his muscles apart, and struck him more times than I could count. By the end, he must’ve had over a hundred fractures. Any ordinary man would’ve died long before that, yet he kept fighting as though nothing had happened.”

Jason’s expression grew serious.

“I’ve faced countless dangerous opponents, but never anything like him. His movements were unnatural, his eyes were empty, and he showed no fear of death. It was almost as if something had possessed his body. I honestly couldn’t tell whether I was fighting a man or a demon.”

The two workers exchanged uneasy glances before the second one spoke.

“Boss, if I may ask… Had this battle taken place during the freezing winter, would the outcome have been different?”

Jason answered without hesitation.

“Without a doubt! In the dead of winter, I wouldn’t have to worry about overheating. I could fight at full strength for as long as necessary. I’d keep striking that bastard until there was nothing left of him but a pile of bloody ground meat!”

He took another sip of icy water and leaned back against the frosty wall.

“But it makes little difference now. His body is already beyond saving. Whatever is keeping him moving can’t undo those injuries. Mark my words. By tomorrow morning, he’ll be dead in his bed.”

The two workers nodded respectfully as the ice cream truck continued toward the distant mountains.

Jason’s skin slowly returned to its usual yellowish color as the workers kept cooling him.

Outside, the jingle attracted several excited children.

“HEY! ICE CREAM!”

“WAIT! WE WANT SOME!”

The children chased after the colorful truck, waving money in their hands.

But the truck simply drove away, its cheerful jingle playing as it disappeared down the street.

Evenly Matched — Part 2

Section 1: The Long-Awaited Sock Attack

Three meters…
Two meters…
One meter.

Finally, Michael had lured Raymond within reach of the middle-aged man sitting on a nearby bench, calmly enjoying his hot coffee.

For nearly a minute, Michael had focused entirely on dodging Raymond’s relentless attacks, carefully guiding him toward this exact spot.

Come on, dude! Just one more punch. That’s all I need!

Meanwhile, the coffee drinker was watching the battle with great interest, casually commenting to himself between sips.

“Mmm. Those punches could smash concrete! Yet the guy in glasses keeps dodging them! Amazing reflexes!”

He took another sip, clearly impressed.

“Now, if he could just find an opening…”

Just then, Raymond launched another devastating punch.

NOW!

Michael swiftly dodged aside, snatched the man’s coffee, and hurled it directly toward Raymond’s face.

FSSSHHHH!!

Raymond instantly crossed his forearms to shield his face from the scalding coffee. A moment later, he staggered backward, blinking rapidly and struggling to steady himself.

Michael’s eyes lit up.

Boss Colin! Your brilliant advice worked perfectly! This is the opening I’ve been waiting for!

The coffee drinker jumped to his feet, furious.

“Hey! What the hell, man?! I wasn’t even finished!”

Michael completely ignored him.

Without wasting another second, he quickly removed his polished right dress shoe and peeled off his sweaty sock.

The moment the filthy sock came free, a disgusting purple aura rose from it, swirling through the air like the dark energy of a cursed object.

The stench was absolutely unbearable.

Michael immediately crumpled the sock into a tight ball, gripping it firmly in his right hand.

Yet Michael remained perfectly serious.

Time to finish this, Raymond. Let’s see you handle this!

He raised the cursed-looking sock high into the air and shouted with tremendous confidence.

SOCK ATTACK!!

Section 2: The Long-Awaited Concussion Punch

With his filthy sock tightly clenched in his right hand, Michael lunged forward, determined to shove the disgusting weapon straight into Raymond’s mouth.

Gotcha! There’s no escaping this one!

But just as he closed the distance, something completely unexpected happened.

Raymond slowly lowered his crossed forearms, revealing a dark, cunning grin beneath the strange mist swirling in his eyes.

Michael felt a sudden chill.

Wait… What’s with that evil grin?!

Throughout the past several days, Raymond had shown almost no emotion, whether on television, under observation from the fiftieth floor, or during their brutal battle.

Michael had always taken him for a mindless wrecking machine, driven purely by instinct and destruction. That sinister grin proved otherwise.

Hold on… This guy is actually intelligent?!

Michael wasn’t the only one looking for an opening.

Raymond had been waiting for one, too.

Knowing they were evenly matched, Raymond had quietly played along, allowing Michael to guide him toward the unsuspecting coffee drinker.

Even the hot coffee had been part of the act. Raymond’s crossed forearms had blocked every drop, leaving his eyes completely unharmed.

He had simply been waiting for Michael to get close enough.

And now, the hunter had become the prey.

Just as Michael thrust the filthy sock toward his mouth, Raymond’s right hand suddenly shot upward.

SMACK!

The disgusting sock flew out of Michael’s grip, spinning high into the air.

He knew all along! I’ve walked straight into his trap!

Michael immediately sensed the danger, but it was already too late.

Raymond’s left fist was already charged with tremendous energy.

They were practically face-to-face.

No distance.

No escape.

With terrifying precision, Raymond drove his left fist directly into Michael’s powerful abdominal muscles.

CONCUSSION PUNCH!

KRAA-BOOOOOOM!!

A blinding black flash erupted at the exact moment of impact!

Jagged black lightning exploded around Raymond’s fist, accompanied by violent crimson sparks. For one terrifying instant, the air itself seemed to twist and crackle under the tremendous force.

Michael’s eyes widened behind his golden-rimmed glasses.

He couldn’t believe what had just happened.

After more than twenty minutes of fierce combat, Raymond had finally landed his first direct Concussion Punch.

And at that very instant, the world seemed to slow down.

Section 3: One Second in Slow Motion

Everything that followed happened within a single second, yet unfolded like a movie montage, frame by frame.

On the second floor, Brian stared down in disbelief. Even with his Golden Eyes, he had never expected Raymond to land such a devastating blow.

Beside him, Jason was so stunned that his tongue, already hanging out like a dog’s, stretched even farther from his mouth.

Meanwhile, the middle-aged coffee drinker was still furiously waving his arms, shouting at Michael. His mouth moved wildly, but in the strange silence of that frozen moment, not a single word could be heard.

Near the restroom, the man who had been taking a dump behind a potted plant had just finished wiping his ass with toilet paper. He was calmly pulling up his pants, completely unaware of the incredible battle taking place nearby.

And then there was the filthy sock.

After being knocked away by Raymond, the disgusting weapon continued spinning high through the air, trailing its sinister purple aura behind it.

Directly beneath its path stood the same teenage fanboy who had been cheering nonstop throughout the battle.

By now, his voice had grown terribly hoarse from all that screaming. Yet he continued cheering with wild enthusiasm, throwing his head back and opening his mouth as wide as possible.

The filthy sock was heading straight toward his wide-open mouth.

PLOP!

The disgusting ball flew directly inside, cutting his celebration short.

His eyes rolled backward, and his entire body went limp before collapsing onto the floor, instantly unconscious.

But the most extraordinary moment was unfolding at the very center of the battlefield.

Within just 0.1 seconds of Raymond’s punch connecting, Michael gathered every ounce of energy in his body and concentrated it directly into his abdominal muscles.

Using his extraordinary muscular control, he tightened his entire core, turning his powerful abdominal muscles as hard as steel.

Raymond’s devastating vibrations surged through Michael’s body, but his sudden defense absorbed much of the impact. The overwhelming resistance then sent a powerful force back through Raymond’s fist, causing him to skid five meters backward across the shattered marble floor.

CRAAACK!

The violent shock shattered both lenses of Michael’s golden-rimmed glasses, sending tiny fragments flying in every direction. Miraculously, the golden frame remained perfectly intact.

As the final pieces of glass fell to the ground, Michael remained standing, his fists tightly clenched and his abdominal muscles still locked in place. Despite taking a devastating blow at point-blank range, Captain Lam had somehow endured the attack without falling.

The single second had finally passed.

Then, something even more shocking occurred.

For the first time since the destruction began, Raymond finally opened his mouth.

His voice was unusually deep, cold, and sinister. He spoke slowly, with a chilling sense of satisfaction.

“Looks like I win… the great Captain Lam.”

But the battle was far from over.

Section 4: All-Out Madness

A thin stream of blood trickled from the corner of Michael’s mouth.

Without saying a word, he calmly wiped it away with the back of his hand, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on Raymond.

Impressive, Raymond. You actually caught me off guard. But don’t think this battle is over!

Five meters away, Raymond stood motionless, the mysterious dark mist still swirling within his eyes.

Without warning, both fighters charged straight at each other.

BOOOOM!!

They collided with tremendous force, immediately launching into another furious exchange of punches and kicks.

Neither fighter held back anymore.

They abandoned their cautious fighting styles and went completely on the offensive, exchanging more than a hundred attacks over the next several minutes. Their fists struck with tremendous force, their kicks landed with brutal precision, and every powerful impact echoed throughout the devastated mall.

Despite their growing injuries and exhaustion, neither showed the slightest intention of backing down.

The remaining spectators went absolutely wild, cheering as though they were witnessing the greatest martial arts tournament in history.

“Are you seeing this?! They’re not even trying to block anymore! This is insane!”

One particularly enthusiastic man jumped up and down, waving his arms wildly as he watched the two fighters exchange devastating blows.

“I don’t care if I die here! This is the greatest fight I’ve ever seen! It’s totally worth it!”

Little did he realize that his friend, who had been standing right beside him moments earlier, was already lying dead on the floor. He was too absorbed in the battle to notice.

Meanwhile, on the second floor, Jason was beginning to lose interest.

His earlier surprise had faded, replaced by growing boredom. He casually let out a long yawn, his enormous tongue hanging lazily from his mouth.

Beside him, Brian continued studying the battle through his Golden Eyes, carefully examining every movement.

After such a long and punishing fight, both Michael and Raymond were clearly reaching their limits. Their movements had grown slower, their attacks had lost some of their original power, and the injuries they had suffered were beginning to take their toll.

Yet they continued exchanging blows with extraordinary determination.

Brian watched with growing admiration before quietly muttering.

“Hmm… What a spectacular battle! Even after all that punishment, neither one can gain the upper hand. Still perfectly even…”

But as he examined their movements more closely, something unusual caught his attention.

Wait… Something doesn’t add up.

Although both fighters were slowing down, Michael appeared to be struggling with an additional disadvantage.

Through his Golden Eyes, Brian noticed that Michael was repeatedly misjudging Raymond’s distance by just a few inches. His punches were becoming less accurate, leaving openings that Raymond was increasingly able to exploit.

Brian’s attention shifted to Michael’s golden-rimmed glasses. Both lenses had been shattered by the Concussion Punch.

Of course! Without his lenses, he can’t see clearly!

Michael could still follow Raymond’s general movements, but his blurred vision made it increasingly difficult to judge the precise distance and timing of each attack.

The difference was subtle, yet enough to give Raymond a growing advantage.

Brian leaned forward, his expression suddenly turning serious.

“Oh, wait… I think Captain Lam is actually losing!”

Down below, Michael launched another powerful punch toward Raymond’s face.

But with his vision impaired, he misjudged the distance by a few inches.

Raymond instantly ducked beneath the incoming fist and seized the opening.

In one swift motion, he spun around and delivered a devastating low sweep directly at Michael’s legs.

SWOOOOSH!

Michael’s feet were swept clean off the ground, sending him crashing flat onto his back.

BAAAAM!!

The tremendous impact shattered the tiles beneath him, sending deep cracks across the surrounding floor.

Michael lay face-up on the broken marble, his arms and legs spread wide amid the scattered debris.

For the first time in their brutal battle, Captain Lam had been knocked completely off his feet.

And standing directly above him was Raymond, ready to make his next move.

Section 5: Sock Attack: Once More

Before Michael could recover, Raymond dropped one knee firmly onto his abdomen, pinning him against the ground.

Michael struggled to get up, but Raymond’s tremendous strength kept him trapped.

Without wasting a second, Raymond pulled off Michael’s left leather shoe, removed the sweaty sock underneath, and crumpled it into a tight ball.

A familiar, disgusting purple haze rose from the filthy sock, swirling through the air like the aura of a cursed object.

Michael’s eyes widened in horror.

No way… He’s going to finish me with my own Sock Attack?!

Michael immediately pressed his lips tightly together.

But Raymond was already one step ahead.

Without warning, he shifted his knee upward and drove it hard against Michael’s chest, squeezing the air from his lungs.

THUMP!!

The crushing pressure left Michael struggling for breath. Despite his desperate efforts to keep his mouth shut, he instinctively opened it to gasp for air.

Seizing the opportunity, Raymond instantly shoved the filthy sock deep into Michael’s mouth.

SQUISH!!

Michael’s entire body stiffened in disgust, his eyes bulging as the horrifying stench overwhelmed him.

Before he could spit out the sock, Raymond braced his elbow firmly against Michael’s lower jaw, forcing his mouth tightly shut. Pouring every ounce of his remaining strength into the hold, he pressed down with his entire body weight.

Michael twisted and struggled beneath him, but Raymond refused to give an inch.

The unbearable stench began dulling all of Michael’s senses. His vision grew blurry, his strength faded, and his consciousness slowly slipped away.

Time is running out… If I don’t break free now, I’m finished!

In desperation, Michael grabbed Raymond by both shoulders and summoned every last bit of strength remaining in his battered body.

His powerful arms trembled violently as he began pushing upward, fighting against the crushing pressure.

Raymond leaned down even harder, determined to keep Michael’s jaw firmly shut.

But Michael kept pushing.

Little by little, Raymond’s body began to rise.

Then, with one final burst of strength, Michael lifted his opponent completely off the ground.

HNNNGGHHH!!

Raymond’s eyes widened in surprise as his elbow lost its leverage against Michael’s lower jaw.

Michael’s jaw slowly loosened, allowing the disgusting sock to slip toward the edge of his mouth.

Just a little more.

He was almost free.

Section 6: Sock Attack: Down to the Last Second

As the filthy sock slipped farther out of his mouth, a faint glimmer of hope emerged from the depths of Michael’s fading consciousness.

But just as freedom was within reach, Raymond suddenly swung his free hand downward and slapped his palm directly over Michael’s mouth.

SLAAAP!!

The filthy sock was trapped beneath Raymond’s palm, unable to slip any farther.

At that very instant, the last trace of Michael’s consciousness faded into darkness.

His eyes rolled back, his arms gave way, and his entire body went limp.

With nothing left to support him, Raymond dropped back onto Michael’s motionless body.

Raymond rolled off his fallen opponent and slowly struggled to his feet.

He tilted his head back, drawing deep, heavy breaths as his battered body trembled from exhaustion.

His face remained almost entirely expressionless. Yet somewhere beneath that cold, empty stare, the faintest hint of triumph began to emerge.

After nearly thirty minutes of relentless fighting, the battle had finally come to an end.

Raymond had won.

Section 7: The Fallen Captain

For several seconds, an eerie silence swept across the devastated mall.

The remaining spectators stood frozen, staring at Michael’s unconscious body.

Captain Lam, one of the Humble Organization’s most formidable fighters and a highly respected figure in the kung fu world, had finally been defeated.

“Holy crap! Captain Lam actually lost?!”

“Are you kidding me?! He got knocked out by his own sock?!”

The silence suddenly gave way to an explosion of shocked voices.

Some spectators shouted in disbelief, while others stood speechless, struggling to comprehend what they had just witnessed.

Several spectators hurriedly checked their phones, making sure they had captured the entire battle.

“Dude! I got the whole thing on video! This is going straight to YouTube!”

Some spectators were already uploading their recordings. Before long, footage of Captain Lam’s defeat would spread across the internet, sending shockwaves far beyond Flushing City and shaking the very foundations of the kung fu world.

Meanwhile, on the second floor, Brian stood motionless, his Golden Eyes still fixed on the battlefield below.

Despite witnessing every moment of the brutal confrontation, he could hardly believe the outcome.

Captain Lam… actually lost?!

Beside him, Jason continued watching Raymond in silence.

His earlier boredom had completely vanished, replaced by an unusually serious expression.

Without hesitation, Jason launched himself over the second-floor railing with a powerful leap, descending straight toward the ruined mall floor.

BOOOOM!!

He landed several meters in front of Raymond, sending a cloud of dust and shattered marble fragments flying in every direction.

His wild, spiky hair stood above his head, while his half-open white shirt exposed his hairy chest. His blue jeans were covered in dust, and his enormous tongue still hung from his mouth as he held his black steel staff firmly in one hand.

Still struggling to catch his breath, Raymond slowly lowered his gaze and looked toward the unexpected newcomer.

Jason stood perfectly still, his expression deadly serious as he stared directly into Raymond’s eyes.

“Now it’s my turn.”

Evenly Matched — Part 1

Section 1: A Humble Invitation

Raymond continued his destruction inside Tangram Mall, smashing one glass storefront after another without showing any signs of stopping.

Michael was about to approach him when a familiar voice suddenly caught his attention.

“Hey, Captain Lam! Over here!”

Michael turned and spotted Mildy, the tiny, unlicensed doctor, standing beside a motionless man lying in a large pool of blood. His oversized white lab coat was splattered with fresh blood, making it painfully obvious that something had gone terribly wrong.

Mildy proudly pointed toward his unfortunate patient, looking strangely pleased with himself.

“Guess what? I just finished some emergency surgery! Poor guy fell off an advertising rack and broke his femur. I tried to fix him up, but, uh… I accidentally cut his femoral artery. Whoops!”

Michael glanced at the lifeless patient, then looked back at Mildy without the slightest surprise.

“Ah. Same old Mildy.”

Suddenly, another loud crash echoed through the mall as Raymond shattered yet another storefront window.

Michael turned toward Mildy, his expression growing serious.

“Mildy, I strongly advise you to leave this place. Immediately.”

Mildy blinked, completely unaware of the approaching danger.

“Huh? Why? What’s going on?”

“There’s no time for explanations! Leave this mall at once, and under no circumstances are you to return!”

Seeing the seriousness in Michael’s eyes, Mildy finally sensed the danger and hurried toward the nearest exit, his oversized lab coat flapping wildly behind him.

Once Mildy had disappeared, Michael picked up his briefcase, adjusted his golden-rimmed glasses, and calmly approached Raymond.

“Excuse me, Mr. Raymond!”

Raymond showed no reaction whatsoever.

Michael continued forward until he was walking right beside him.

“Mr. Raymond, I represent the Humble Organization, and we would like to offer you a position. Our boss is quite impressed with your remarkable abilities…”

Michael hesitated briefly, struggling to find a polite way to explain the rest of his boss’s unusual interest.

“…and your funny look.”

Raymond remained completely silent, showing no interest in Michael or his generous offer.

“The position is called Higher-Up Executioner. It’s a rather prestigious role, with excellent benefits and considerable opportunities. May I ask whether you would be interested?”

Instead of answering, Raymond clenched his fist and drove it straight through another glass storefront.

CRAAASH!

Shattered glass scattered across the marble floor as the deafening crash echoed through the mall.

Michael watched patiently before giving a small, understanding nod.

“I see. I shall take your silence as a refusal. Very well, Mr. Raymond. I fully respect your decision.”

He casually stepped past Raymond, giving every impression that their conversation had come to a peaceful end.

Then, without warning, Michael spun around and drove a devastating straight kick into Raymond’s stomach.

WHAM!

The attack came without the slightest warning.

Raymond was launched nearly ten meters through the air before crashing violently into a concrete wall. The tremendous impact sent cracks spreading across its surface, knocking loose chunks of concrete as Raymond bounced off the wall and slammed onto the marble floor.

Dust and debris filled the air around his fallen body.

Michael remained perfectly composed, calmly watching the aftermath.

Had he been allowed to fight without restrictions, he could have delivered a far deadlier attack. A sharp hand chop to the neck or a powerful punch through the chest might have ended Raymond’s life instantly.

However, Boss Colin had given him strict orders to bring Raymond back alive.

After all, dead men couldn’t sign employment contracts.

That was why Michael had deliberately used only half of his full strength, yet the kick had still been powerful enough to crack a concrete wall.

For several seconds, Raymond lay motionless among the rubble.

Then he slowly began to move.

He pushed himself off the floor and struggled to his feet. Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth before a violent cough sent a large splash of fresh blood across the white marble tiles.

Raymond wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and slowly raised his head toward Michael.

The strange, dark mist continued to swirl within his eyes, but something had clearly changed.

Until now, Raymond had treated Michael as little more than another meaningless stranger. But that single kick had finally forced him to recognize the man standing before him as a genuine threat.

Michael flung his briefcase aside and stood calmly, waiting for Raymond’s next move.

The peaceful recruitment attempt was over.

Now the real battle was about to begin.

Section 2: A Battle of Equals

Without warning, Raymond charged toward Michael, gathering energy into his right fist before launching a devastating punch at his chest.

CONCUSSION PUNCH!

Michael reacted instantly, twisting his body aside and narrowly avoiding the attack. He knew that a direct hit would send violent vibrations through his body, causing massive internal damage.

However, Raymond’s technique had one important weakness. Each Concussion Punch required a brief buildup of energy, creating a short delay between attacks. Michael had already noticed this during Raymond’s earlier battle with Robinson.

Michael quickly exploited that weakness.

Raymond continued his fierce assault, throwing heavy punches in rapid succession. However, his offensive movements were relatively slow, allowing Michael to slip past his attacks with remarkable speed and precision.

Whenever an opening appeared, Michael immediately counterattacked with a rapid series of punches and kicks. Yet Raymond’s defensive reactions were extraordinary. Despite his slower attacks, he managed to block or deflect almost every strike Michael threw at him.

Their fierce exchanges echoed throughout the mall, quickly attracting a crowd. Some frightened shoppers rushed toward the exits, while others remained behind to witness the incredible battle.

Before long, the two fighters had exchanged more than a hundred blows, yet neither had managed to gain the upper hand.

For the first time in a long while, Michael felt the thrill of facing an opponent who could truly match his strength. A satisfied smile slowly appeared on his face.

Suddenly, Raymond drove his fist straight into the ground with tremendous force.

BOOOOM!

A devastating shockwave erupted beneath them, sending violent vibrations racing through the ground. Deep cracks spread rapidly across the marble floor as storefront windows shattered and nearby furniture was thrown into the air.

Even some of the bystanders who had stayed to watch were caught in the shockwave. Several suffered severe injuries, while others were killed on the spot.

But Michael was already prepared.

With perfect timing, he launched himself high into the air and grabbed a sturdy metal support bar attached to a massive advertising frame overhead. His body swung clear of the floor just as the destructive shockwave swept beneath him, tearing through the mall.

Suspended high above the shattered ground, Michael calmly watched the destruction unfold below.

His choice of battlefield had paid off.

Section 3: The Die-Hard Spectators

Michael hung from the metal support bar of a massive advertising frame, looking down at the devastation below. The mall floor was covered in deep cracks, shattered glass, and broken furniture. Most shoppers and store owners had already fled in terror, but at least a dozen spectators remained, forming a loose circle around the battlefield. Others watched from a safer distance, hiding behind concrete pillars, overturned furniture, and damaged kiosks.

Despite the destruction, the remaining spectators cheered wildly and argued over which fighter would win. A few had even started placing bets, treating the deadly battle like a live sporting event.

Several spectators pulled out their phones and began recording the fight from different angles.

One man raised his phone high and shouted with wild enthusiasm.

“Holy cow! This is gonna be epic! I’m recording the whole thing!”

Among them was a loudmouthed teenage fanboy who seemed more excited than anyone else. His eyes were glued to the fighters as he waved his arms wildly, screaming at the top of his lungs.

“HELL YEAH! THAT’S WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT! COME ON! KICK HIS ASS! LET’S GOOO!”

A worried woman standing beside him desperately pulled at his arm, trying to get his attention.

“Hey! Your mom’s over there! She got hit by that shockwave! She’s not moving! Are you even listening?!”

But the boy didn’t even bother turning his head.

“She’s probably dead already! WHO CARES?! LET’S GOOO!”

Without showing the slightest concern for his mother, he continued cheering even louder, completely absorbed in the battle.

Not far away, a middle-aged man sat comfortably on a bench, holding a steaming cup of hot coffee.

Unlike the other spectators, he showed neither excitement nor fear. He calmly took a sip of coffee and studied the fighters with great interest, as though he were enjoying a professional martial arts tournament rather than witnessing a deadly battle.

“Mmm. Nice balance on that kick. Smooth footwork, too… Yeah, that guy’s definitely trained.”

He took another leisurely sip, paying little attention to the injured and dead bystanders scattered across the shattered mall floor.

Meanwhile, high above the chaos, Michael was already preparing his next attack.

Still hanging from the advertising frame, he began swinging his body back and forth, building momentum with each movement. After three powerful swings, he released the metal bar and launched himself through the air toward Raymond.

With his leg fully extended, Michael delivered a straight flying kick directly at his opponent.

Seeing Michael approaching from above, Raymond charged his fist and unleashed a Concussion Punch straight at the incoming leg.

Michael reacted with incredible speed. Using his powerful abdominal muscles, he twisted his body sharply in midair, narrowly avoiding the devastating punch. In the same movement, he pulled back his extended leg and transformed his straight flying kick into a spinning kick, striking toward Raymond’s opposite side.

Raymond quickly raised his other arm to block the spinning kick. However, the tremendous impact sent him staggering several steps sideways across the fractured marble floor.

Michael landed smoothly, his eyes firmly fixed on Raymond.

The two fighters faced each other in silence before dropping into their fighting stances. Round Two was about to begin.

Section 4: Uninvited Big Shot

The second round raged on as Michael and Raymond continued exchanging powerful punches and kicks. Despite their different fighting styles, they were still dead even, with no signs of slowing down.

Meanwhile, on the second floor of Tangram Mall, Brian stood beside the railing, carefully studying the battle below.

“Incredible… I’ve been studying their every move for several minutes, and I still can’t find the slightest advantage on either side. They’re practically equal!”

He recalled how quickly Boss Colin had reached the same conclusion earlier that day.

“And Boss Colin? He figured it out in less than thirty seconds, just by watching them from the fiftieth floor of our headquarters. His intelligence is on a whole different level!”

Suddenly, heavy footsteps approached from behind.

Brian turned and spotted a legendary figure he had heard so much about.

It was Jason.

Despite being only in his thirties, Jason had already earned the respected status of an elder in the underworld. This formidable fighter rarely appeared in public and was known for one particularly strange habit: he appeared only during winter, disappearing throughout the warmer months almost as though he were hibernating.

Yet it was the middle of summer.

What on earth was he doing here?

Brian had never met Jason in person, and his sudden appearance immediately put him on alert.

Jason had wild, spiky black hair resembling that of a Super Saiyan. His half-buttoned white shirt exposed a broad, hairy chest, while a simple pair of blue jeans completed his rugged appearance.

In his hand, he carried a long, heavy black steel staff.

As he approached, Jason casually tapped the tip of his staff against the marble floor.

CRACK!

A network of cracks instantly spread across the tiles, reaching nearly a meter in every direction.

Brian had no idea whether Jason was a friend or foe. His body tensed as he watched the mysterious fighter with growing caution.

He quietly activated his Golden Eyes, examining Jason’s body with extraordinary precision.

Something immediately caught his attention.

Jason’s skin was unusually smooth, almost unnaturally perfect. His pores were incredibly small, with barely a trace of sweat or oil on his face.

Brian narrowed his eyes, studying him more closely.

Then, without warning, Jason opened his mouth and slowly stuck out his tongue.

He began panting gently, letting his tongue hang freely as he cooled himself down.

Just like a dog.

Brian stared in disbelief, unsure whether to laugh or become even more concerned.

Here stood a legendary fighter whose steel staff could crack the floor with a casual tap, yet he was cooling himself down like a household pet.

Whatever Jason’s strange habits might be, Brian knew better than to underestimate him.

Remaining alert, he turned his attention back toward the battle below.

Michael and Raymond were still exchanging fierce blows, with neither fighter showing any sign of defeat.

Section 5: The Missing Clue

More than twenty minutes had passed since the battle began.

After exchanging hundreds of blows, Michael and Raymond were still locked in a fierce struggle, with no end in sight.

Michael could feel exhaustion creeping through his body. His muscles were growing tired, and continuing to fight this way would only drain his remaining strength.

Something had to change.

He abandoned his offensive approach and switched to full defense, relying on his superior speed to dodge Raymond’s relentless attacks.

But while his body remained focused on survival, his mind was racing.

He recalled the conversation with Boss Colin and Brian earlier that day, on the fiftieth floor of the Humble Organization’s headquarters.

Boss Colin had mentioned something important about defeating Raymond. Michael was certain of it, but the exact words continued to escape him.

As Raymond unleashed another powerful punch, Michael narrowly slipped aside, never losing focus on his thoughts.

Somewhere in those forgotten words lay the key to breaking this endless deadlock.

Section 6: Jason’s Warning

Meanwhile, back on the second floor, another teenager standing farther down the corridor suddenly burst into laughter.

He pointed at Jason, who was still standing near the railing with his tongue hanging out like a dog.

“Yo, old man! Why the hell’s your tongue hanging out like that?! You look like a stupid-ass dog! HAHAHA!”

The teenager laughed uncontrollably, completely unaware that he had just made a terrible mistake.

Jason stood perfectly still, his tongue still hanging from his mouth as though he hadn’t heard a single word.

Brian glanced at the foolish teenager and immediately sensed trouble.

This kid’s dead. He just doesn’t know it yet.

Without saying a word, Jason calmly transferred his heavy steel staff from his right hand to his left.

Then, without even taking a step forward, he casually swung the staff sideways toward the teenager, who stood more than twenty meters away.

WHOOOOSH!

A tremendous blast of wind erupted from the steel staff, tearing through the corridor with terrifying force.

The staff never came close to touching the teenager, but the powerful wind pressure struck him directly.

In an instant, his shirt and pants were completely shredded, leaving him naked and covered in bruises.

Overwhelmed by terror, the teenager immediately turned and fled, screaming desperately as he raced down the corridor.

PSSSSHHH!

As he ran, urine began spraying behind him like a broken water fountain. His legs moved wildly as he sprinted across the marble floor, leaving a long, glistening yellow trail in his wake.

Within seconds, he disappeared around a corner, his terrified screams echoing down the corridor.

Brian stared at Jason in astonishment.

The legendary fighter had remained in the exact same spot throughout the entire attack. With nothing more than a casual swing of his staff, he had unleashed enough force to tear the teenager’s clothing to pieces without tearing his body apart.

The sheer power of the attack was astonishing, but what impressed Brian even more was Jason’s extraordinary control over that power.

Such precision could only belong to a truly exceptional fighter.

Still keeping his guard up, Brian turned his attention back toward the battlefield below.

Michael was continuing to dodge Raymond’s relentless attacks, but Brian suddenly noticed something different.

A faint smile had appeared on Michael’s face.

Brian watched him closely and quietly muttered.

“Well, well… Looks like he’s finally figured something out.”

Section 7: The Split-Second Opening

Michael continued dodging Raymond’s relentless attacks, moving with remarkable speed and precision. Despite the constant danger, a confident smile had appeared on his face.

At last, he had remembered Boss Colin’s crucial advice from earlier that day.

“If you want to defeat Raymond, you’ll need a split-second opening. A distraction. Just one brief moment is all it takes to gain the upper hand.”

Michael was overwhelmed with admiration for his boss’s extraordinary intelligence.

Boss Colin… Your wisdom is truly beyond measure! You are a magnificent lighthouse shining through the endless darkness, forever illuminating my path to victory!

Filled with renewed confidence, Michael continued slipping past Raymond’s powerful punches while carefully scanning his surroundings.

He needed a distraction, something that could create even the smallest opening in Raymond’s defense.

His eyes immediately turned toward the second floor.

There stood Brian, watching the battle with his arms crossed. Beside him was Jason, the legendary fighter who was still standing there with his tongue hanging out like a dog.

Michael stared at the two men in disbelief.

Ugh. Nothing useful up there. They’re too far away.

Without wasting another second, he turned his attention elsewhere.

Around the battlefield, several spectators were still hiding behind damaged storefronts, while others continued cheering enthusiastically despite the terrible destruction.

One particularly loud fanboy was still screaming at the top of his lungs.

“LET’S GO! YEAHHH! COME ON! KICK HIS ASS!”

Michael ignored the shouting and continued searching the far corners of the mall.

Suddenly, something caught his attention.

Near the restroom entrance, a man was squatting behind a large potted plant, taking a dump with his pants around his ankles.

And the restroom was literally right beside him!

Michael stared in complete disbelief.

What on earth?! Are you kidding me?! The restroom is RIGHT THERE!

Just then, another powerful punch came flying toward his face. Michael quickly twisted aside, narrowly avoiding the blow before returning his attention to the battle.

But as he scanned the area once more, something else caught his eye.

Not far from the battlefield, the same middle-aged man was still sitting comfortably on his bench, casually sipping his hot coffee.

Michael’s eyes suddenly lit up.

That’s it! That’s exactly what I need!

He had finally found his opportunity.

Without revealing his intentions, Michael subtly adjusted his footwork, gradually leading Raymond toward the unsuspecting coffee drinker.

Raymond continued his relentless assault, seemingly unaware that his opponent was carefully guiding him toward a specific location.

Five meters…
Four meters…
Three meters…

Michael’s excitement grew with every step, but he forced himself to remain calm. His eyes stayed fixed on Raymond as he carefully prepared for the perfect moment.

Just one distraction.

Just one split-second opening.

That was all he needed.

Long Tailing

Section 1: A Well-Deserved Rest

After three days and three nights of relentless destruction, Raymond finally took a well-deserved rest.

Sitting on Kyle’s stiff, rigid back, he closed his eyes and remained perfectly still, allowing his exhausted body to regain some strength.

Meanwhile, Michael took his time straightening his white dress shirt, smoothing his black slacks, and adjusting his golden-rimmed glasses. He then picked up his briefcase and calmly entered the elevator.

He descended from the fiftieth floor of the nearby building and made his way toward the half-destroyed Toiletview Mall.

By the time he arrived, ten minutes had passed.

Just then, Raymond opened his eyes and rose from his human chair. Without warning, he turned around and delivered a powerful kick straight into Kyle.

Kyle was launched nearly thirty meters through the air before crashing violently into a concrete wall.

He collapsed among the rubble, his once-rigid limbs falling limp as white foam spilled from his mouth.

Raymond didn’t bother looking back. He simply walked toward the opposite end of the mall, where a vending machine stood beside a damaged storefront.

Without hesitation, he threw a punch, shattering the entire glass front of the vending machine.

CRAAASH!

Reaching inside, Raymond grabbed a bottle of Pepsi, twisted off the cap, and took several long gulps. The cold drink refreshed him almost instantly.

If this were a video game, his HP bar would have just received a massive boost.

After finishing his drink, Raymond casually tossed the empty bottle aside and headed toward the exit.

Michael spotted him almost immediately and quietly followed him out of the mall, maintaining a safe distance to avoid attracting his attention.

Section 2: An Unexpected Recycler

After leaving the half-destroyed Toiletview Mall, Raymond entered a wide, nearly deserted plaza, with Michael quietly following about twenty meters behind.

Michael carefully surveyed the area. The open space offered almost no cover, and there were no overhead structures he could use to escape if Raymond unleashed another devastating ground shockwave. He quickly realized that this was a terrible place to fight.

Just then, Michael noticed a familiar figure crouching beside a large trash bin. It was Tom, a tall, muscular homeless man dressed in a filthy shirt and worn-out shorts, rummaging through garbage for leftover food, bottles, and cans.

With Raymond still walking ahead, Michael saw an opportunity to conceal himself. He approached the trash bin, placed his briefcase beside it, and crouched next to Tom, pretending to search for recyclables.

Tom slowly turned his head and stared at the unexpected newcomer in complete disbelief.

Michael, dressed in his spotless white shirt, neatly pressed black slacks, polished leather shoes, and golden-rimmed glasses, looked completely out of place beside the garbage bin. Tom couldn’t understand why such a well-dressed gentleman had suddenly decided to compete with him in the recycling business.

Confused, Tom opened his mouth, ready to ask what the hell was going on.

Before he could utter a single word, Michael swiftly pulled a hundred-dollar bill from his pocket and stuffed it into Tom’s shorts.

“Please, not a word. Here’s a hundred dollars. Just carry on as usual, all right?”

Tom blinked, glanced at the money, and nodded before casually returning to his recyclables as though nothing had happened.

Michael took another quick glance at Raymond, picked up his briefcase, and quietly slipped away.

Moments later, he was back on Raymond’s trail, maintaining a careful distance to avoid being noticed.

Section 3: The Baddest Badass Rookie

Raymond entered Local Alley, casually smashing every glass window he passed, while Michael followed at a safe distance.

As they moved deeper into the alley, Michael noticed four young gangsters surrounding a skinny young man in pajamas with a ridiculous bowl haircut. They were punching and kicking him mercilessly as he curled up on the ground, desperately shielding his head with both arms.

The unfortunate victim was Benson.

“Five bucks?! You’re a grown man, and that’s all you’ve got?! Are you mocking us?!”

The gangsters continued their beating while Benson helplessly begged for mercy.

Michael glanced toward Raymond, who was still walking ahead, occasionally turning his head from side to side. Following him in plain sight was becoming increasingly risky, and Michael needed somewhere to blend in. The group of gangsters offered a convenient opportunity.

Without hesitation, he calmly approached them.

One of the gangsters stepped forward, giving him a suspicious look.

“Yo! Who the hell are you? A businessman or something?!”

Michael responded with his usual polite, composed manner.

“I’ve just joined the gang. I’m the new recruit. Please don’t let my attire give you the wrong impression. After all, one shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.”

The gangsters exchanged bewildered looks. His white dress shirt, black slacks, polished leather shoes, and golden-rimmed glasses made him look nothing like a gangster.

And somehow, he was carrying a briefcase. A freaking briefcase!

Before they could question him further, Michael casually crouched down and picked up a dried, crusty piece of dog poop from the pavement.

“Only five dollars? I’m afraid that’s simply unforgivable.”

With the same calm expression, he grabbed Benson by the jaw and shoved the dog poop straight into his mouth, without the slightest hesitation.

Benson immediately gagged in horror.

“AAAGH! PLEASE! I’M BEGGING YOU! THIS TASTES AWFUL!”

The four gangsters froze, staring at Michael in complete disbelief.

“Holy shit! He just shoved dog crap into that guy’s mouth! Didn’t even blink!”

“Damn! This rookie’s fucking savage! That’s some next-level cruelty!”

“I’m telling you, this guy’s gonna be a gang boss someday!”

Michael showed no reaction to their praise. He simply wiped his dirty hand against Benson’s pajama sleeve, rose to his feet, and calmly looked ahead.

Just like that, the gangsters had accepted Michael as one of their own.

But Michael had already spotted Raymond disappearing around a corner farther down the alley. Without saying goodbye, he quietly slipped away and resumed his pursuit.

One of the gangsters nervously pulled out his phone. Clearly impressed by Michael, he wanted to ask for his contact information but struggled to find the courage. Finally, he called after him in a timid, barely audible voice.

“Uh… hey, future boss… could I… could I get your…”

His voice faded before he could finish the question.

Michael was already gone.

Section 4: The Unwanted Third Wheel

Raymond emerged from Local Alley and continued down a wide street, with Michael quietly following at a safe distance.

About fifteen meters behind Raymond, an unusual couple was strolling hand in hand. The man wore an old railroad worker’s uniform and had a deeply wrinkled face that made him look nearly eighty. Beside him walked a beautiful young woman with long, flowing hair.

They were Lawson and Monica.

Michael was walking just a few steps away when a young woman holding a makeup compact approached Raymond from the opposite direction.

As she passed him, Raymond suddenly turned his head.

Michael tensed, fearing that Raymond had finally spotted him. Acting on instinct, he quickly stepped sideways and grabbed Lawson’s free hand.

Lawson was already holding Monica’s hand with his left, and now Michael had taken his right. Just like that, the three were walking shoulder to shoulder, hand in hand, like an oddly matched family enjoying an afternoon stroll.

Lawson turned to protest, but froze when he recognized Captain Lam. He knew exactly how dangerous Michael could be and immediately thought better of challenging him.

Michael leaned closer and spoke in a low, controlled voice.

“Listen carefully, senior citizen. Make one sound, and I’ll take your head off. Keep walking.”

Lawson’s face went pale. He swallowed hard and quickly nodded, too frightened to resist. Yet he still couldn’t help adding one small correction.

“Uh… just so you know… I’m… I’m only eighteen.”

Michael ignored him completely.

While Lawson trembled with fear, Monica studied the mysterious newcomer with growing curiosity. His handsome features and calm confidence stirred a familiar feeling inside her, bringing a faint blush to her cheeks.

Meanwhile, Raymond casually swung his arm backward, shattering the mirror in the young woman’s makeup compact with a sharp backhanded punch.

CRACK!

Glass fragments scattered across the sidewalk as the startled woman jumped back.

“What the hell, dude?! I just bought that mirror yesterday! What’s your freaking problem?!”

Raymond ignored her and continued walking.

Oh. He was after the mirror.

Michael quietly relaxed, relieved that his cover remained intact.

Moments later, Raymond reached a subway station and headed downstairs. Michael immediately released Lawson’s hand and hurried after him without a word of explanation.

Lawson and Monica stopped and stared after the mysterious gentleman, completely bewildered by what had just happened.

Their peaceful afternoon stroll had somehow turned into the strangest three-person date imaginable.

Section 5: Awkward Small Talk

Raymond descended into the subway station, with Michael quietly following behind.

The station opened into a vast underground space, supported by towering concrete pillars and a network of steel beams overhead. As Michael surveyed the area, a beautiful violin melody drifted through the station, catching his attention.

Near the center of the open space stood a familiar figure wearing a half-unbuttoned white dress shirt and a bright red cape.

It was Sean, the part-time Local Hero.

With his chest proudly puffed out, Sean played his violin with surprising skill and passion. His red cape fluttered dramatically behind him, even though there wasn’t the slightest breeze underground.

Michael soon noticed the source of the mysterious wind: a portable electric fan carefully positioned behind Sean.

Earlier that day, Sean had sneaked out of the hospital following his fight with Raymond. His injuries were relatively minor, and he couldn’t afford the medical bills, so he had simply escaped without paying. Now he was playing violin to earn enough money to repair or replace his broken phone.

Meanwhile, Michael noticed Raymond moving farther ahead. Seeing an opportunity to blend in, he casually approached Sean and struck up a friendly conversation.

“Well, well! Look who we have here. Our very own Local Hero! Tell me, doesn’t the Local Hero Association pay you a salary? What brings you down here playing the violin?”

Sean chuckled without stopping his violin.

“Man, I wish! I’m only a part-time Local Hero, and I don’t even have an official license yet. They don’t pay me a dime! Besides, I gotta make some cash to fix my phone.”

Michael nodded thoughtfully.

“Ah, I see. If you don’t mind me asking, could that have something to do with those three years you spent in prison? I imagine that might raise a few questions during a background check.”

Sean immediately stopped playing.

“HEY! HEY! HEY! HEY! HEY!”

He lowered his violin and glared at Michael.

“Whoa, hold on a second! You can’t just go around saying stuff like that! That’s slander, man! I could seriously sue you for that!”

Michael offered a polite smile.

“My apologies. I meant no offense. Just making conversation.”

Sean gradually relaxed. Surprisingly, Michael was much easier to talk to than he had expected, and Sean began to think they might actually become friends.

“Hey, you know what? You’re actually a pretty cool guy to talk to! Maybe we should hang out sometime. We could—”

Before he could finish, Michael spotted Raymond approaching the stairs at the far end of the station.

Michael’s friendly mode ended instantly. Without another word, he turned and hurried after Raymond, leaving Sean in the middle of his sentence.

Sean stood there holding his violin, staring in disbelief as Michael disappeared up the stairs.

After a moment of confusion, he resumed playing, his red cape once again fluttering dramatically in the steady breeze from his portable fan.

Section 6: The Loudmouthed Goofball

After leaving the subway station, Raymond continued down the street, with Michael following quietly behind.

The road was unusually empty, offering almost no cover. Michael needed somewhere to blend in before Raymond noticed him.

Just then, he spotted a Korean-style roadside BBQ stall with several tables arranged along the sidewalk.

Without hesitation, Michael approached the stall, set his briefcase beside an occupied table, and casually took a seat.

Only then did he recognize one of the people sitting across from him.

It was Dinello, enjoying a plate of barbecue with his girlfriend, Jessica.

Dinello stared at Michael, clearly annoyed by his sudden appearance.

“Yo, what the fuck?! Who invited you to sit with us?! You’re with the Humble Organization, and my sisters are with the Frugal Organization! We ain’t exactly on the same team, Captain Lam! So what the hell do you want?!”

Michael remained perfectly composed, keeping his voice low.

“My apologies for the interruption. I’m currently following someone on an important assignment. I’d appreciate it if you could keep your voice down and continue enjoying your meal.”

Jessica glanced between the two men, looking slightly confused.

“Oh… okay. No problem.”

Dinello, however, had absolutely no intention of cooperating.

The two men had never gotten along particularly well, and the moment Dinello realized Michael was secretly following someone, a mischievous grin spread across his face.

Without warning, he reached across the table, grabbed Michael’s wrist, and shouted toward Raymond at the top of his lungs.

“HEY! YOU! THE FUNNY-LOOKING GUY WITH THE MUSTACHE AND TINY EYES! SOMEONE’S STALKING YOU! IT’S CAPTAIN LAM!”

Michael immediately tried to pull his arm free.

“Dinello! Shut up and let go of me!”

Dinello burst into laughter, clearly enjoying Michael’s growing frustration.

Jessica quickly leaned forward, alarmed by her boyfriend’s behavior.

“Hey, Canelo! Stop it! Come on, we don’t have to—”

Before she could finish, Michael forcefully pulled against Dinello’s grip. However, Dinello was no ordinary fighter, and he refused to release him. The two men began struggling across the table, causing the plates and barbecue utensils to rattle dangerously.

Michael’s patience was rapidly running out.

“If you weren’t Linda and Lindsay’s younger brother, I’d have chopped your head off already! Now shut your mouth and let go of me!”

Dinello only laughed harder, gripping Michael’s wrist even tighter as he shouted toward Raymond once again.

“HAHAHA! HEY, MUSTACHE! COME GET YOUR STALKER!”

Yet strangely enough, Raymond showed absolutely no interest in the commotion.

As Dinello continued laughing, Raymond casually approached a nearby bus stop and smashed one of its glass panels with a single punch. Without even bothering to look in their direction, he continued walking down the street.

Meanwhile, Dinello was so caught up in shouting and laughing toward Raymond that he had completely neglected his defense.

In this kung fu world, letting your guard down could be fatal, even for a fighter as powerful as Dinello.

Michael spotted his opening.

Without warning, he drove his free fist straight into Dinello’s face, catching him completely off guard.

The tremendous impact sent Dinello flying out of his chair and across the sidewalk. His body struck the pavement and skidded more than ten meters before finally coming to a stop.

By then, he was completely unconscious.

Jessica froze in horror, staring at her boyfriend lying motionless on the sidewalk.

Michael calmly rose from his seat, straightened his shirt, and placed a hundred-dollar bill on the table.

“My apologies, miss. Please use this toward his medical expenses. I’m afraid I have some urgent business to attend to.”

He then picked up his briefcase and hurried after Raymond, leaving Jessica alone with her unconscious boyfriend.

Jessica stared at the hundred-dollar bill, then turned toward Dinello, who lay motionless several meters away.

“Oh my God… What am I gonna do now?!”

Section 7: The Perfect Arena

After his ridiculous encounter with Dinello, Michael finally came to an important realization.

Despite all the shouting, struggling, and chaos, Raymond hadn’t even bothered to look in his direction. As far as Michael could tell, the man simply didn’t care whether someone was following him.

All those careful disguises had apparently been for nothing.

With his briefcase in hand, Michael abandoned his cautious approach and began following Raymond openly, no longer bothering to hide or keep his distance.

After several minutes of walking, they arrived at Tangram Mall.

Raymond entered first, with Michael following shortly behind.

As Michael stepped inside, he immediately noticed the enormous open atrium. Massive advertising displays hung from sturdy steel beams overhead, while elevated walkways and balconies surrounded the central area.

Michael carefully studied the layout. Those overhead structures offered plenty of places to leap onto or take cover behind, allowing him to escape Raymond’s devastating ground shockwaves.

Unlike the narrow streets and exposed plazas he had passed earlier, this was exactly the kind of battlefield he needed.

Suddenly, the sharp sound of shattering glass echoed through the mall.

Raymond had already resumed his destruction.

Michael tightened his grip on his briefcase, his eyes fixed firmly on the dangerous man ahead.

He had finally found the perfect arena.

Raymond vs. Pastor Simon

Section 1: The Holy Defense

Inside Toiletview Mall, Pastor Simon stood on a large performance stage overlooking the grand atrium. A wide staircase led up to the platform, where dozens of white-robed followers had gathered, waiting for his orders.

Holding a map of Flushing City, Simon carefully studied Raymond’s trail of destruction.

“According to Raymond’s path of destruction, Toiletview Mall is his next target! He could show up any minute now!”

Kyle, his most loyal disciple, grew nervous.

“Pastor Simon! What are we gonna do when that monster gets here?!”

Simon raised one hand confidently, his voice echoing across the stage.

“Fear not, Kyle! We’ve prepared for this! Every glass window in this mall is covered—cardboard, newspapers, blankets, tarps, anything we could get our hands on! Not a single pane of glass is visible!”

He pointed proudly toward the covered storefronts.

“If Raymond can’t see the glass, he might just pass us by! But brothers and sisters, remember this: Hope for the best, prepare for the worst! Our defenses are in place, and our fighters stand ready!”

Kyle nodded enthusiastically.

“Brilliant, Pastor Simon! Absolutely brilliant! Your wisdom knows no bounds!”

Simon smiled with pride. However, after standing for so long, his legs were beginning to ache. He glanced around the stage, searching for somewhere to sit, but there wasn’t a single chair in sight.

Kyle noticed immediately.

“Pastor Simon! Shall I get you a chair?”

Simon calmly shook his head.

“No need, Kyle!”

Then he raised his arm with great authority and made a dramatic declaration.

“Kyle! In the sacred name of Humbleism, you shall become the Holy Chair!”

“At once, Pastor Simon!”

Without hesitation, Kyle dropped onto all fours. Every muscle in his body tightened until his entire frame became stiff and rigid, his straight back forming the perfect human chair.

Simon settled onto Kyle’s back, crossed one leg over the other, and adjusted his white dress shirt.

Like a mighty emperor seated upon his throne, he surveyed his devoted followers standing to his left, right, and behind him. Some checked their equipment while others stood guard near the entrances, ready for the battle ahead.

Suddenly, a guard rushed toward the stage.

“Pastor Simon! Raymond’s here!”

Beyond the covered entrance, a familiar figure was approaching. He was a skinny man of average height, wearing a pink apron, with sunken cheeks, a tiny mustache, and beady eyes.

There was no mistaking him.

It was Raymond.

He stopped outside the mall and slowly scanned the storefronts, looking from one side to the other. Every window was hidden beneath layers of cardboard, cloth, or wooden boards.

Not a single pane of glass was visible.

Simon leaned forward on his human throne, watching Raymond’s every move. His confident expression slowly turned tense as he whispered just loudly enough for the nearby followers to hear.

“Come on, Raymond… Don’t notice the glass. Just keep walking. Please… just keep walking.”

Section 2: The Holy Fodder

For several seconds, Raymond stood motionless outside Toiletview Mall. Then, without warning, he drew back his fist and punched straight through a tarp-covered storefront.

CRAAAASH!

The hidden glass exploded into countless pieces, scattering across the floor.

Pastor Simon sprang to his feet, his eyes widening in disbelief.

“No way! How did he know the glass was there?!”

Raymond stepped inside and smashed another storefront window without slowing down.

Simon immediately raised his arm.

“Brothers and sisters! The time has come! Plan B! Prepare for battle!”

Dozens of white-robed followers quickly formed two lines in front of the stage. Knowing Raymond could wipe out entire groups with a single shockwave, Simon planned to send them in small waves while attacking from behind.

“Two or three at a time! Keep that monster distracted! The rest of you, stand ready to take their place! No one breaks formation!”

The first three disciples charged toward Raymond, attacking from different directions.

Raymond slapped one aside, knocked another unconscious with a single punch, then slammed his fist into the ground.

BOOOOOM!

A devastating shockwave sent the third disciple flying across the atrium, clutching his head and vomiting in midair.

Before he even landed, two more followers had rushed forward to take his place.

Meanwhile, Simon grabbed a handful of pebbles from a large pile of stones behind him and hurled them at Raymond like shotgun pellets.

RATATATAT!

Raymond dodged several and smashed the rest with his fists. Simon immediately grabbed an apple-sized rock and launched it like a cannonball.

WHOOOOOSH!

Raymond shattered it with another punch, sending fragments flying across the floor.

“Keep him busy, brothers and sisters! Don’t give him a second to breathe! Show him the mighty power of Humbleism!”

The battle raged on. Every time a disciple fell, another rushed forward. Raymond crushed his attackers with powerful punches and devastating shockwaves, while Simon relentlessly bombarded him with stones of every size.

Wave after wave, the followers charged into battle, only to be struck down one after another.

Five minutes later, after dozens of rounds of fighting, the grand atrium had become a battlefield littered with fallen disciples. Some lay unconscious, others writhed on the floor vomiting, while a few had fled in terror.

Only a handful of followers remained standing.

He placed a hand over his heart, his face filled with sorrow.

“Oh, my beloved brothers and sisters! So many brave souls have fallen! Your sacrifices shall never be forgotten! Oh, how my heart aches for every single one of you!”

In truth, he couldn’t have cared less.

Without another moment of hesitation, Simon turned toward two silent, white-robed disciples standing beside the stage.

“Enough! Plan C begins now! Prepare the Holy Human Missiles!”

Section 3: The Holy Human Missiles

At Pastor Simon’s command, two white-robed disciples stepped forward. Unlike the others, neither showed a trace of fear. After weeks of special training, they had become living missiles, completely devoted to their master and ready to sacrifice themselves.

Simon spread his arms dramatically.

“Brothers and sisters! Behold the ultimate power of Humbleism! Witness our most sacred weapons—the Holy Human Missiles!”

The two disciples took their positions on either side of Simon. Every muscle in their bodies tightened, turning them as stiff and rigid as steel rods.

Simon took a deep breath, his enormous, rock-hard man boobs bulging beneath his shirt. With tremendous strength, he hoisted the first disciple onto his shoulder and hurled him straight toward Raymond. Without a moment’s pause, he grabbed the second disciple and launched him right after the first!

FWOOOOOSH!

Both human missiles shot through the air at incredible speed, their bodies perfectly straight like flying darts, one following closely behind the other.

The first missile closed in on Raymond, who responded with a single powerful punch.

BOOOOOOM!

The disciple burst apart in midair, spraying blood and flesh across the atrium. A thick cloud of red mist engulfed Raymond, completely blocking his vision.

The first missile had served its purpose as a decoy.

And the second was already closing in!

BAAAAAAM!

Flying horizontally with his body rigid and both feet forward, the second missile struck Raymond directly in the ribs with tremendous force. The impact shook the entire atrium, sending cracks racing across the tiled floor.

Simon leaned forward, his eyes fixed on the thick cloud of blood.

“A direct hit! Did we finally bring that monster down?! Oh, my beloved disciple! Your noble sacrifice must not be in vain!”

But the red mist was too thick. Even Simon couldn’t see what had happened to Raymond.

All he could do was wait for the mist to clear.

Section 4: The Holy Nuke

Ten seconds passed as the thick red mist slowly began to clear. When the air finally settled, Raymond was still standing in the middle of the atrium.

A deep, twenty-meter-long skid mark stretched across the tiled floor behind him. At his feet lay the second human missile, his legs twisted and his broken body still twitching.

The tremendous impact had driven Raymond back twenty meters, yet he had never fallen. Only a thin trail of blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.

Watching from the stage, Pastor Simon stared in disbelief.

“What?! A direct hit, and he’s still standing?! Damn it! What the hell does it take to bring this monster down?!”

He clenched his fists and slowly lowered his head, a single tear rolling down his cheek.

“My beloved disciple… Forgive me! I never wanted it to come to this. But for the sake of Humbleism, I must make this heartbreaking decision!”

With a heavy expression, Simon reached into his pocket and pulled out a small detonator. His thumb hovered over the button.

“May your ultimate sacrifice bring glory and victory to Humbleism!”

CLICK!

A red light flashed.

Suddenly, a brilliant golden light erupted from the fallen disciple’s body at Raymond’s feet.

BOOOOOOOOOOM!

A devastating explosion ripped through the atrium, shaking the entire mall to its foundations. The floor cracked open, walls collapsed, and a massive mushroom cloud burst through the roof.

Kyle, still crouching on all fours as the Holy Chair, was sent spinning through the air like a frisbee. Simon himself was blasted off the stage, crashing onto the floor and sliding across the shattered tiles. His remaining followers and even his entire pile of stones were sent flying in every direction.

Thick smoke swallowed the entire atrium, leaving nothing visible.

Lying among the rubble, Simon wiped away his tear and spoke with solemn devotion.

“My faithful disciple… Your sacrifice shall never be forgotten! Your name shall live forever in our hearts…”

He paused.

“…Whatever your name was.”

He had never bothered to ask.

A full minute passed before the smoke finally began to clear.

Nearly half of Toiletview Mall had been reduced to ruins. The roof had been torn apart, exposing the open sky. Shattered glass, twisted metal, and chunks of concrete covered what remained of the grand atrium.

And there, standing alone amid the devastation, was Raymond.

His body was badly burned, his shirt shredded, and his pink apron completely vaporized. Blood streamed down his chest, with several ribs exposed beneath his torn flesh.

Yet somehow, he was still on his feet.

Pastor Simon stood frozen, unable to believe what he was seeing.

Raymond slowly raised his head. His eyes were completely black, filled with swirling dark mist. His face showed not the slightest trace of human emotion.

His terrifying gaze remained fixed on Simon.

Simon could barely believe his eyes.

“No… This can’t be! Unbelievable! Inconceivable! Impossible!”

Section 5: The Grim Reaper’s Punch

Raymond stood among the ruins, blood dripping from his burned body. His pitch-black eyes remained fixed on Pastor Simon.

Simon examined Raymond’s horrifying injuries, muttering to himself.

“Exposed ribs… Severe burns… Bruises everywhere… And he’s still on his feet?! No human being could survive that!”

As the terrifying realization sank in, Simon’s legs began trembling uncontrollably. Fear spread across his face as he suddenly shouted.

“What the hell are you?!”

Raymond paid him no attention. Without warning, he charged straight toward Simon, who felt as if the Grim Reaper himself were coming to claim his life.

Simon stumbled backward, still clutching the detonator he’d used to trigger the Holy Nuke.

“Stay back, you monster! In the sacred name of Humbleism, I command you to stay the hell away from me!”

In desperation, Simon hurled the detonator at Raymond like a boomerang. Raymond effortlessly dodged it and continued his relentless charge.

Within seconds, he was only five meters away.

“Oh, Lord, have mercy! What the hell am I supposed to do now?!”

Raymond closed the distance and unleashed a massive, devastating Concussion Punch straight at Simon’s chest.

There was no time to dodge.

At the very last moment, Simon thrust his enormous, rock-hard man boobs forward to absorb the attack.

THWUUUUMP!

The tremendous impact launched Simon backward like a cannonball. He smashed through one wall, then another, another, another, another, and another before finally crashing into a mountain of garbage bags outside the mall.

CRAAAAASH!

Simon lay motionless among the trash for several seconds. Yet against all odds, he had survived.

His enormous chest muscles had absorbed nearly eighty percent of Raymond’s devastating punch. Had the attack struck any other part of his body, he would have been killed instantly.

His oversized man boobs had saved his life.

Slowly, Simon opened his eyes and gazed up at the blue sky. His entire body ached from the impact, but a faint smile crept across his face.

With his last bit of strength, he whispered weakly.

“I live… to preach another day.”

Then he passed out.

Section 6: The Awakened Hyena

After three days and three nights of destruction across Flushing City, Raymond’s rampage finally came to a halt.

He stood silently among the ruins of Toiletview Mall, surrounded by shattered glass, twisted metal, and piles of broken concrete. His badly wounded body showed every sign of exhaustion, yet his pitch-black eyes remained as lifeless as ever.

As Raymond surveyed the wreckage, something near the destroyed stage caught his attention. It was Kyle, lying flat on his back with all four limbs pointing straight toward the sky. Despite being blasted across the mall by the Holy Nuke, his entire body remained stiff and rigid, perfectly preserving the shape of the Holy Chair.

Raymond approached him, casually picked him up, and flipped him over, placing him firmly back on all fours.

The Holy Chair was back in position.

Without a word, Raymond lowered himself onto Kyle’s back, finally enjoying a much-needed rest.

Meanwhile, on the fiftieth floor of a nearby building, Boss Colin stood beside Michael and Brian before a large window overlooking the devastated Toiletview Mall.

Both Colin and Brian had activated their Golden Eyes, carefully examining the mysterious figure resting among the ruins far below.

Brian leaned forward confidently.

“Boss, want me to head down there and humble that guy a little?”

Colin shook his head.

“Don’t bother. You’d lose.”

Brian blinked in surprise.

“Wait, what?! How did you figure out his power level so fast?! I can’t even get an accurate reading with my Golden Eyes yet!”

Colin folded his arms, his gaze remaining fixed on Raymond.

“Look at him. Three days without sleep, one battle after another, and even a massive explosion couldn’t finish him off. He’s strong, determined, and incredibly hard to kill.”

He paused for a moment, continuing to study Raymond through his Golden Eyes. A hint of amusement appeared on his face.

“Actually, I’d like to recruit him. He looks like a decent guy. And I like the way he looks, too. That mustache, those tiny eyes… I don’t know why, but the guy just looks funny to me!”

Michael adjusted his golden-rimmed glasses, still trying to make sense of Colin’s assessment.

“Boss, just how strong is this guy?”

Colin nodded.

“About as strong as you, Michael. If you two fought one-on-one, I’d call it an even match.”

Brian narrowed his Golden Eyes once more, concentrating harder on Raymond as he tried to determine the man’s true strength.

Colin suddenly smirked.

“Looks like a hyena’s been awakened.”

Michael turned toward him with a puzzled expression.

“A hyena? Boss, isn’t it usually a tiger or a dragon?”

Colin shrugged.

“He’s strong. Just… not that strong. A tiger? A dragon? Nah. I’d say a hyena sounds about right.”

Fifty floors below, surrounded by the shattered remains of Toiletview Mall, Raymond sat peacefully on his newly acquired human chair. After three days and three nights of relentless destruction, he was finally taking a well-deserved rest, allowing his battered body to slowly recover its strength.

Raymond vs. Gangsters

Section 1: 72 Hours of Destruction

For three days and three nights, Raymond had rampaged through Flushing City, smashing windows without sleeping. His latest stop was Crotchview Mall, famous for its enormous selection of men’s and women’s underwear, lingerie, and adult products.

Within fifteen minutes, the mall was a wreck. Storefront windows lay shattered, and dozens of gangsters were sprawled across the filthy floor, clutching their heads and vomiting. The floor hadn’t been cleaned in weeks.

Just then, a skinny man marched into the entrance hall. His long, thick hair hung around his head like a giant mop. Known in the underworld as Mop Hair, he was the gangster boss responsible for protecting the mall.

He glanced at the filthy floor and grumbled.

“These cheap bastards keep dodging their protection payments! Half of ’em still owe me money! I can’t even afford a damn janitor! And now some window-smashing psycho shows up, and I’m supposed to save their asses?! What a fucking joke!”

Spotting one of his men kneeling beside a trash can, Mop Hair shouted.

“HEY! What the hell are you doing on your knees?! Get your ass up! We’ve got a fight to finish!”

The gangster looked up, pale and sweating.

“B-Boss! You don’t understand! That Raymond bastard punched the ground from way over there, and every single one of us started puking our guts out!”

Mop Hair cracked his knuckles with a confident grin.

“Relax, boys! You’re looking at the toughest bastard in this gang! Just watch me mop the floor with that motherfucker!”

Just then, Raymond walked right past him without a glance.

Mop Hair spun around and blocked his path.

“HEY! I’m talking to you, asshole! You think you can just walk right past me?!”

He threw a powerful uppercut toward Raymond’s chin.

Raymond casually slapped him across the face.

WHAAAACK!

Mop Hair flew sideways, crashed headfirst onto the dirty floor, and slid all the way toward the main entrance. His long hair dragged across the tiles like a giant mop, wiping away weeks of dirt.

He left a long, clean streak across the filthy floor.

For the first time in weeks, someone had finally mopped a section of Crotchview Mall.

Mop Hair lay unconscious at the end of his freshly cleaned path.

Raymond didn’t look back. He continued deeper into the mall.

CRAAAASH!

After shattering dozens more storefront windows, Raymond moved on.

Section 2: The Tactical Retreat

Raymond’s next stop was Roosevelt Mall, where he smashed dozens of windows within minutes of arriving.

CRAAAASH!

From the second-floor walkway, Robinson, the gangster boss who controlled Roosevelt Mall, watched from behind the railing.

He’d heard reports of Raymond’s devastating attacks. Instead of rushing into a fight, he decided to study his opponent.

Alright, Raymond… Let’s see what you’re really made of.

Downstairs, several gangsters charged toward Raymond.

Raymond threw a Concussion Punch to his left, then another to his right, sending them flying across the floor. They rolled several times, vomiting violently before losing consciousness.

Robinson’s face grew grim.

That Concussion Punch… It’s downright demonic. One wrong move, and I’m finished.

Then Raymond crouched and slammed his fist into the floor.

BOOOOOOM!

A powerful shockwave raced through the ground, knocking the remaining gangsters off their feet. They collapsed, clutching their heads and vomiting violently.

Robinson’s eyes widened.

An area-of-effect attack, too?! Holy shit… There’s no way I’m taking this monster on alone!

He grabbed his walkie-talkie, but before he could speak, a deafening scratching noise burst from the speaker.

SKRRRRT! KRRRSH! SKRRRRT!

One of his lackeys was fooling around at the worst possible moment, deliberately rubbing something against his walkie-talkie’s microphone.

Robinson nearly exploded with anger.

“WHO THE HELL IS SCRATCHING THAT MIC?! CUT THAT SHIT OUT! THIS IS A GODDAMN EMERGENCY!”

The noise stopped.

Robinson pressed the button again.

“Everybody, listen up! Round up every man who’s still on his feet! We’re falling back! Nobody goes near Raymond! You hear me?! NO MORE FIGHTING! MOVE!”

A nervous voice came through the radio.

“Roger that, Boss! But where the hell are we going?!”

“SkyView Mall! We link up with Canelo and his crew, take that monster down together, then come back and reclaim our turf! Now get your asses moving!”

Robinson hurried for the exit as his remaining gangsters abandoned their posts.

Several shopkeepers watched their supposed protectors leave in disbelief.

One of them threw up his hands.

“HEY! Where the hell are you guys going?! We PAY you to protect us! What the hell are we supposed to do now?!”

But the gangsters were already gone.

Meanwhile, Raymond moved from floor to floor, smashing windows as terrified shopkeepers scattered like frightened rats.

Within minutes, Roosevelt Mall was practically deserted. Only the fallen gangsters remained as Raymond’s punches echoed through the empty corridors.

CRAAAASH!

Section 3: An Unlikely Alliance

Robinson arrived at SkyView Mall with his remaining gangsters. The moment they entered the food court, dozens of Canelo’s men rushed over and blocked their path.

The two gangs stood face-to-face, glaring at each other.

Robinson stepped forward.

“Easy, boys! We’re not here to start a turf war! I need to speak to your boss!”

One of Canelo’s men approached.

“Boss Canelo’s upstairs, eating ramen at Ramenhood. Follow me.”

As Robinson was escorted upstairs, the gangs continued their standoff below, flipping each other off and making faces without actually fighting.

Inside Ramenhood, Canelo was enjoying a bowl of noodles when Robinson walked in.

He slammed his chopsticks onto the table.

“The fuck are you doing here, Robinson?! Bringing your whole damn gang into MY mall?! You trying to start shit with me?! Boss Jason gave me SkyView! You got a fuckin’ problem with that?!”

Robinson raised both hands.

“Easy, Canelo! I’m not after your turf! Raymond just tore Roosevelt Mall apart! My men got crushed, and I had to order a full retreat! Neither of us can beat that monster alone. We need to join forces!”

Canelo frowned.

“Raymond? Shit. Heard that motherfucker’s tough as hell.”

Just then, the television above the counter switched to breaking news.

Live footage showed Raymond rampaging through a tiny mall elsewhere in Flushing City, smashing storefront windows and sending gangsters flying. Terrified shopkeepers scrambled for the exits.

CRAAAASH!

Canelo stared at the screen.

“Holy fuck! Look at that crazy bastard! He’s wrecking the whole damn mall!”

Robinson pointed at the television.

“And SkyView Mall could be next! We have to take him down here, together! Otherwise, you’ll lose SkyView, and I’ll never get Roosevelt Mall back!”

Canelo thought for a moment before setting his bowl aside.

“Aight, fuck it! We team up. But just this once, got it?! Once we beat that bastard, you take your boys and get the hell outta my mall!”

“Fine by me! Once we beat that bastard to a pulp, I’m heading straight back to reclaim Roosevelt Mall!”

The two gangster bosses shook hands, sealing their temporary alliance.

As they shook hands, Robinson spotted a familiar face eating ramen alone in the corner.

It was Sean, a local hero.

Robinson called out to him.

“Hey, Sean! We’re putting together a team to take down Raymond. How about joining us?”

Sean looked up from his noodles.

“Hold on! I’m a local hero, and you two are gangsters! We’re on opposite sides! Why would I ever team up with you guys?!”

Robinson pointed toward the television.

“Look at that monster! You really think any one of us stands a chance against him alone?!”

Sean watched Raymond smash another storefront, sending glass flying everywhere.

He set down his chopsticks and sighed.

“He’s even stronger than I thought. I’ll need the combined power of both of you to bring this monster down. Alright, I’m in! But just this once!”

Robinson broke into a grin.

“Now that’s what I’m talking about! Just like the old days! Three tough gangsters joining forces to take down one monster!”

Canelo raised his fist excitedly.

“FUCK YEAH! LET’S BEAT THAT MOTHERFUCKER UP AND FUCK HIM GOOD!”

Sean immediately jumped to his feet.

“HEY! HEY! HEY! HEY! HEY! Get it straight! I’m a local hero, not a gangster! Got that?!”

But Robinson and Canelo completely ignored his protests. Instead, each placed a hand on one of Sean’s shoulders, looking like three lifelong brothers in crime.

Section 4: The Coordinated Ambush

Robinson, Sean, and Canelo had already worked out their battle plan. Knowing Raymond could unleash devastating area-of-effect attacks, they ordered their men to evacuate shopkeepers and customers, then stand by to provide support without joining the fight.

This fight would be handled by the three of them.

Sure enough, Raymond soon arrived at SkyView Mall. By the time he reached the food court, he’d already smashed the windows of more than a dozen stores, leaving broken glass scattered everywhere.

As Raymond stepped into the center of the food court, a shadow suddenly appeared above him.

From nearly three meters overhead, Canelo came diving down at a 45-degree angle, his heel aimed straight at Raymond’s head.

SKYFALL KICK!

Raymond instantly unleashed a Concussion Punch straight into the incoming kick.

BOOOOOM!

The impact sent violent vibrations through Canelo’s body, turning his entire figure into a trembling blur in midair.

Before Raymond could recover, Sean came flying in from the side like a human missile, his body stretched out horizontally with one leg aimed straight at Raymond in his signature Horizontal Execution Kick!

Raymond quickly raised his other arm to block.

BAAAAM!

The kick sent Raymond sliding backward across the floor.

One meter. Three meters. Five meters!

Robinson was already waiting behind Raymond. The moment Raymond slid into range, he rushed in low and unleashed a powerful spinning sweep, knocking both his feet out from under him.

Raymond flew backward through the air and slammed into a wall twenty meters away.

CRAAAAASH!

The wall cracked under the tremendous impact.

Robinson and Sean immediately regrouped and exchanged a triumphant high-five. Then they turned toward Canelo, ready to celebrate their successful combination attack.

SMACK! SMACK!

Neither noticed that Canelo hadn’t raised his hands. They each slapped him across one cheek instead.

Canelo instantly dropped to his knees.

“BLAAAAARGH!”

He began vomiting violently, his entire body trembling.

Only then did they realize he’d already taken Raymond’s Concussion Punch.

“Oh, shit!” Robinson exclaimed.

“Oh, no!” Sean shouted.

Two lackeys rushed in, grabbed Canelo under the arms, and carried him away.

Sean turned toward the cracked wall.

“This fight’s far from over! We’ve gotta stay sharp!”

Robinson nodded grimly.

“One Concussion Punch could finish either of us. We can’t afford a single mistake!”

Just then, chunks of broken concrete fell from the wall.

Raymond forced himself free and stepped forward, a thin trail of blood running from the corner of his mouth.

He raised his head and stared at them. His eyes were completely black, filled with swirling dark mist. His lips moved as if chanting a dark spell, but no one could make out the words.

His terrifying gaze sent a chill down their spines.

Sean and Robinson tightened their stances, bracing themselves for the next round.

Section 5: Returning the Favor

Without the slightest warning, Raymond exploded into motion!

He closed the distance like a bolt of lightning, unleashing a devastating Concussion Punch straight at Sean!

But Robinson reacted at the very last instant!

HEAVEN AND EARTH SHIFT!

He intercepted the punch, redirecting its tremendous force away from Sean!

Before Raymond could even retract his fist, Sean seized the opening!

He seized Raymond’s arm and spun twice, swinging him through the air before hurling him nearly thirty meters across the mall!

WHOOOOOSH!

BAAAAAANG!

Raymond slammed into the floor, sending jagged cracks racing outward from the impact!

A mouthful of blood burst from his lips as he tumbled across the floor before coming to a stop!

Sean sprinted after him, determined to finish the fight before Raymond could recover!

“This is the end of the road, Raymond! I’m taking you down once and for all!”

Closing in, Sean raised his leg and unleashed a crushing kick aimed directly at Raymond’s head!

But Raymond reacted first!

LOW SWEEP!

In one swift motion, Raymond swept Sean’s legs out from beneath him, sending him crashing backward!

Before Sean could recover, Raymond sprang to his feet and seized him by the arm!

Without hesitation, Raymond copied the very technique Sean had used on him moments earlier!

He spun around twice, swinging Sean through the air with tremendous force before launching him straight toward the third floor!

WHOOOOOSH!

“WAIT! THAT’S MY MOVE! NO WAY—!”

CRAAAAASH!

Sean smashed through the third-floor railing and crashed straight through a section of wall!

Chunks of shattered concrete and twisted metal rained down onto the floor below.

Sean lay unconscious amid the wreckage.

Robinson stared up at the third floor, his face draining of color.

“Oh, SHIT! Sean’s down?! Goddamn it! I’m on my own now!”

Section 6: Double Concussion Shockwave

With Sean defeated and Canelo already out of the fight, Robinson was the only one left standing between Raymond and the destruction of SkyView Mall.

But he wasn’t going down without a fight!

Robinson charged straight at Raymond, engaging him in a fierce close-quarters battle!

Raymond unleashed a barrage of crushing punches. But Robinson was ready!

HEAVEN AND EARTH SHIFT!

Robinson turned each attack aside, redirecting its force away from his body.

They fought through nearly thirty furious exchanges, and not one of Raymond’s punches landed cleanly!

So far, so good! I can handle his punches! But I’ve gotta watch out for those AOE attacks. One direct hit, and I’m finished!

At last, they broke apart, several meters between them.

Without warning, Raymond raised his fist and drove it violently into the ground!

CONCUSSION SHOCKWAVE!

BOOOOOOM!

A massive shockwave burst from the impact, racing across the floor in every direction!

Robinson sprang into the air just in time, the shockwave sweeping beneath him.

The wave spread outward, then dissipated.

Still airborne, Robinson glanced at the motionless floor, confidence surging through him.

YES! THAT’S IT! Keep dodging the shockwaves, keep redirecting his punches, and wear him down! I can actually win this!

But just before Robinson landed, Raymond drove his other fist into the ground!

CONCUSSION SHOCKWAVE!

BOOOOOOM!

A second shockwave tore across the floor toward Robinson!

His eyes widened in horror.

Already descending, he had nothing to push against and no way to change direction. He couldn’t jump again. There was no escape!

“NO! NO, NO, NO! HE CAN FIRE TWO BACK-TO-BACK?! I NEVER SAW THAT COMING!”

His feet touched the ground at the exact moment the shockwave struck!

“GAAAAAAAH!”

The impact ripped through him. He dropped to his knees, doubled over, and vomited onto the floor, unable to stand.

Gasping for breath, he looked up at Raymond.

“I’m done for… Go ahead, Raymond. Just finish me off already…”

But Raymond walked straight past him without a glance!

Less than ten seconds later, glass shattered across the mall. Raymond was back to smashing windows.

As the crashing faded from his ears, Robinson’s vision blurred. He collapsed, unconscious.

Section 7: Aftermath

The following morning, news of the battle at SkyView Mall spread like wildfire across Flushing City.

“BREAKING NEWS! Three infamous gangster bosses took on Raymond at SkyView Mall yesterday, only to suffer a humiliating defeat!”

In a hospital bed, Sean watched the report on YouTube, his face turning red with rage.

“THREE GANGSTER BOSSES?! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! I’M A HERO, YOU IDIOTS! GET YOUR FACTS STRAIGHT!”

He hurled his phone to the floor, smashing it to pieces!

Deep within a dark chamber, Jason rose from his Frozen Throne, his expression grim.

“My three boys… My three best men… All taken down by Raymond. Unbelievable.”

Jason narrowed his eyes and clenched his fists.

“Our gang’s reputation is on the line. Looks like I’ll have to deal with Raymond myself.”

Raymond vs. Cops — Part 2

Section 1: Broken Voice

The streets of Flushing City were still cold and wet from the earlier rain. An uneasy silence hung over the officers.

Split Pants lay motionless in the distance. Broken Lips had mysteriously disappeared, and the two remaining officers stood awkwardly behind Chief Grayson, neither eager to become Raymond’s next victim.

Finally, one officer stepped forward. He was tall and painfully thin, with a gaunt face and permanently tense eyebrows. He opened his mouth, determined to say something important.

Unfortunately, what came out sounded like a dying chainsaw chewing through a pile of gravel.

“(Grkkhh)… wgh-huurghh… we c-ccould pull b-b-bwaaa-ck—ghrnnnnn—vuh-jjAI-nuhhh—ssstrattegi… cckkkhh—replaaawgh—ch—”

He stopped and stared at Grayson with a completely serious expression.

Grayson stared back.

“What the fuck did you just say?”

The officer opened his mouth again, but Grayson immediately raised a hand.

“Whoa, whoa! Never mind! Don’t say it again!”

He turned toward the other officer.

“Did you understand a single word of that?”

The second officer shook his head vigorously.

“Not a single word, Chief. But I’m pretty sure he said ‘vagina’ at one point.”

Grayson frowned.

“Vagina?! What the fuck does vagina have to do with anything?! Damn this horny bastard!”

The tall officer turned toward the delivery girl, hoping she might understand him. She immediately shook her head.

“Hey, don’t look at me! I didn’t understand a damn thing either!”

The officer lowered his head in frustration. Grayson rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

“Alright, well… whatever the hell that was, you sure sounded passionate! Let me guess. You wanna take on Raymond, right? Avenge our fallen brothers? Show that bastard what a real cop can do?!”

The officer’s eyes widened in horror, but Grayson nodded before he could protest.

“Yep! That’s what I thought!”

He placed a firm hand on the officer’s shoulder.

“I respect that! Takes real guts to volunteer for a suicide mission!”

The officer desperately shook his head.

“Grrhh—n-nooo—wghh—”

But Grayson wasn’t listening. He straightened his back and raised one finger dramatically.

“And for that, I’m giving you a name! From this moment on, you shall be known as… BROKEN VOICE!”

The delivery girl tilted her head.

“Broken Voice?”

“That’s right!” Grayson declared proudly. “Because, Jesus Christ, man! Your throat sounds like it’s been dragged through a meat grinder!”

The delivery girl struggled to hold back a laugh, but Broken Voice looked devastated. His face turned pale as he glanced toward Raymond, who remained standing silently in the street.

He made one last desperate attempt to explain himself.

“(Grkkhh)… n-nnnooo… rrrreeetreee—ghhh—”

Grayson gave him an approving nod.

“Now THAT’S the spirit!”

Broken Voice stared at his Chief in disbelief.

All he had wanted was to suggest a strategic retreat. Instead, he had received a ridiculous nickname and been volunteered for a fight he never wanted.

And judging by Grayson’s enthusiastic expression, there was no turning back now.

Section 2: Broken Glasses

Having successfully volunteered Broken Voice for a suicide mission, Grayson turned toward the last remaining officer.

“Alright, buddy. You’re going too!”

The officer straightened his back and nodded confidently.

“Yes, Chief!”

He took one step forward, then suddenly stopped and turned back.

“Uh, Chief? Hold on a second. Can I ask you something?”

Grayson raised an eyebrow.

“What now?”

“Well, everybody’s got a nickname now. Broken Lips, Split Pants, Broken Voice… But what about me? I don’t have one!”

Grayson sighed and looked him up and down, searching for something unusual. His eyes traveled from the officer’s head all the way down to his shoes, then slowly moved back up. Finally, his gaze stopped at the officer’s glasses.

Both lenses were covered in deep, spiderweb-shaped cracks. It was a miracle the man could see anything through them, yet he was still wearing them as if nothing were wrong.

A wicked grin spread across Grayson’s face. He folded his arms proudly.

“Oh, I’ve got the perfect name for you! From now on, you’re Broken Glasses! The name found you!”

The officer adjusted his badly cracked glasses, then broke into a huge smile.

“Wow! Thanks, Chief! I actually love it! You’re not gonna believe this, but these glasses have been broken for two whole decades! I’m serious!”

Grayson stared at him in disbelief.

“Two decades?! And you’re still wearing those damn things?!”

Broken Glasses shrugged.

“Hey, I can still see! Mostly.”

Grayson shook his head.

“Jesus Christ! You’re one cheap bastard! Why don’t you just join the Frugal organization?”

Broken Glasses gave an embarrassed smile.

“Oh, I already tried, Chief! Applied three times, actually. Got rejected every single time!”

Grayson stared at him, completely speechless.

The delivery girl, however, was impressed. Her eyes sparkled as she looked from Broken Glasses to Broken Voice, admiring their serious expressions and unusual nicknames.

Wow! Broken Voice and Broken Glasses! Those names sound so badass! These guys are seriously manly!

Meanwhile, Broken Voice stood beside his newly named partner, looking ready to faint. Broken Glasses, however, couldn’t have been happier. He proudly adjusted his cracked glasses, and together, the two officers began walking toward Raymond.

Broken Voice and Broken Glasses. One could barely speak. The other could barely see. They were perhaps the most ridiculous duo the Flushing City Police Department had ever sent into battle.

Raymond stood silently in the middle of the wet street, paying no attention to the two officers approaching him. Watching them with growing excitement, the delivery girl leaned toward Grayson.

“Hey, Chief… Be honest. What do you think their chances are?”

Grayson barely gave it a thought.

“Ten percent. Probably less. Those two are pretty damn weak.”

Section 3: The Police Duo

Grayson watched Broken Voice and Broken Glasses approach Raymond, a confident smirk spreading across his face.

He never expected those two idiots to win. All he needed was for them to keep Raymond busy for a few dozen exchanges and wear him down. Then he would step in, deliver the finishing blow, and claim all the glory.

Perfect! Let those two morons do the dirty work. I’ll swoop in at the end and walk away a hero!

Meanwhile, the delivery girl watched the two officers with sparkling eyes.

“Come on, boys! Show him what you’ve got!”

She paused, admiring them with a dreamy smile.

“Oh man… They’re both so manly! If I had to pick one as my boyfriend, I wouldn’t even know who to choose!”

Broken Voice approached with trembling legs, while Broken Glasses proudly adjusted his cracked glasses.

But before either officer could make a move, Raymond suddenly drove his fist into the pavement.

BOOOOOOM!

A powerful shockwave tore through the ground. The moment it reached the two officers, they collapsed right where they stood and began vomiting violently, showing clear signs of a severe concussion.

Within seconds, both were unconscious.

Even Grayson and the delivery girl, standing thirty meters away, felt the ground shake beneath their feet.

The girl gasped, her eyes wide with shock.

“Oh my God! What the hell was that?! He didn’t even touch them!”

Grayson’s confident smirk vanished.

What the fuck?! Those idiots didn’t even last a second!

His brilliant plan had fallen apart before it even began. For a moment, he stood there in stunned silence. Then he straightened his uniform, lifted his chin, and forced a confident smile.

Alright, fine! Those two were completely useless. But I’m the Chief, damn it! If anyone can take this monster down, it’s me!

He glanced at the delivery girl, who was still staring at Raymond in disbelief.

It was time for Chief Grayson to take matters into his own hands.

Section 4: Delivery Girl’s Nickname

Grayson walked over to the delivery girl and gently placed both hands on her shoulders. Despite watching his last two officers collapse, he still believed he could defeat Raymond.

“Alright, sweetheart. It’s my turn now. If I take that bastard down, how about giving me a kiss?”

The girl blushed, hesitated for a moment, then nodded with a shy smile.

Grayson’s eyes lit up. He immediately leaned forward with his lips puckered, but she quickly raised her hand to block his face.

“Whoa, hold on, Chief! I said AFTER you win!”

Grayson pulled back with a disappointed sigh.

“Alright, alright! Give me a minute. I’ll be right back!”

Before he could walk away, the girl suddenly stopped him.

“Oh, wait! Chief, one more thing! If I were one of your officers, what nickname would you give me?”

Grayson looked her up and down, studying her from head to toe. Then his gaze slowly returned to her chest, where it remained for ten full seconds.

He examined her breasts with the seriousness of a scientist studying a rare discovery. Finally, he nodded as though he’d reached a brilliant conclusion.

“Bouncy Boobs.”

The girl blinked in surprise, then burst into delighted giggles. With a bright, innocent smile, she gave Grayson a light, playful tap on the shoulder, as though he’d just paid her the sweetest compliment.

“Oh my God! Bouncy Boobs?! That’s hilarious! Chief, you’re ridiculous! You’re like… a poetic pervert! You know what? I think I kind of… like you!”

Grayson’s grin grew even wider.

“Gifted, sweetheart. Not ridiculous.”

Still giggling, the girl watched him turn toward Raymond. Just as he started walking away, she called out with a hint of concern.

“Hey, Chief! Go easy on Raymond, okay? Please don’t kill him! He used to be such a sweet guy!”

Without looking back, Grayson casually raised one hand and gave her a thumbs-up.

With a beautiful girl waiting for his victory kiss, Grayson marched toward Raymond, fully convinced that his moment of glory had finally arrived.

Section 5: Modern Weapon Unleashed

Grayson marched toward Raymond with his chin held high, stopping about fifteen meters away. He stood with his hands on his hips, looking as confident as ever.

Behind him, the delivery girl watched with growing admiration.

Oh my God… Look at him! So brave, so confident! I think I’m actually falling for this guy!

Grayson lowered his head and muttered to himself.

“You’ve left me no choice, Raymond. I really didn’t wanna do this… but you just had to push me!”

His expression turned serious.

After all, this was the modern world. Who the hell still fought with bare fists?

With a confident smirk, Grayson reached into his holster and pulled out a sleek 9mm pistol—his ultimate weapon.

Raymond slowly turned toward him, his face completely blank. Even with a gun pointed straight at him, he showed no fear.

The delivery girl immediately panicked.

“Wait! Chief, no! Please don’t shoot him! You’ll kill him! He used to be such a sweet baker! Please, go easy on him!”

Grayson ignored her. Without another word, he raised his pistol and pulled the trigger.

BANG! BANG! BANG…

Fourteen shots rang out in rapid succession as Grayson emptied his entire magazine.

Then he lowered his gun, closed his eyes, and let out a long, dramatic sigh.

“What a shame… We could’ve settled this like civilized people. But I guess you just wouldn’t listen. Such a tragic ending!”

Unfortunately for Grayson, Raymond had other plans.

The moment the bullets approached, his fists moved faster than the eye could follow.

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG…

Raymond punched twelve bullets straight out of the air, then casually tilted his head and twisted his body to dodge the remaining two.

Not a single bullet touched him.

When Grayson finally opened his eyes, Raymond was still standing right in front of him, completely unharmed.

His smug expression vanished.

What the FUCK?! Fourteen bullets?! And not a single hit?!

His heart pounded. His knees began to shake, and suddenly, a warm sensation spread through his pants.

He had pissed himself.

Fortunately, the rain had just stopped, leaving his uniform damp. With any luck, nobody would notice.

Grayson stumbled two steps backward, his empty pistol trembling in his hand. All that confidence from moments earlier had completely disappeared.

“He… he’s a monster.”

Section 6: Kung Fu 101

As Raymond dodged the final two shots, both bullets flew past him, each heading toward a very different destination.

The first bullet flew toward a halal food cart parked along the sidewalk. Behind the counter, a man was busy grilling chicken, casually nodding along to the music playing through his earbuds.

Just as he was about to flip another piece of chicken, he sensed something strange. A sudden change in the air.

Without even looking up, he dropped his tongs and raised two fingers.

CLINK!

The bullet stopped instantly, caught perfectly between his index and middle fingers.

The man glanced at it, then gave a satisfied smirk.

“Ha! Good thing I took Kung Fu 101 back in college! And that was just the beginner class! Man, I can’t even imagine how powerful I’d be if I’d taken Kung Fu 201!”

Without a second thought, he tossed the bullet into a nearby trash can, picked up his tongs, and went right back to grilling chicken as though nothing had happened.

Meanwhile, the second bullet continued flying toward a movie theater farther down the street.

Six college students were walking past the entrance, skipping class together to catch a movie. Five of them walked ahead, laughing and chatting excitedly about the film.

The sixth student trailed a few steps behind, completely absorbed in his phone. His thumbs moved rapidly across the screen as he typed another message.

The bullet tore through the air and struck him directly in the temple.

He collapsed onto the pavement without a scream.

His five friends didn’t notice a thing. They kept laughing, talking, and walking down the street, completely unaware that their friend was no longer behind them.

Moments later, they disappeared around the corner, leaving his motionless body lying alone on the sidewalk.

One man had survived because of a class he took years ago. Another had lost his life while skipping one.

Moral of the day?

Sometimes… going to class really matters.

Section 7: First Love, First Heartbreak

Grayson stared at Raymond in horror, his legs trembling as he slowly backed away. That monster had just survived fourteen bullets without a single scratch. All he wanted now was to get the hell out of there—and fast.

Suddenly, he spun around and sprinted toward the delivery girl, who was already sitting on her scooter with the engine running.

“Chief! Hurry! Hop on! Let’s get out of here together!”

She watched him approach, her heart filled with hope and affection. Deep down, she made a quiet promise to herself.

If we make it out of here alive, I’m going to spend the rest of my life with him!

Meanwhile, Raymond had no interest in chasing them. He remained in the middle of the street, slowly scanning the surrounding buildings.

Windows. Storefronts. Glass doors.

Anything made of glass.

Deep inside his mind, a mysterious command kept repeating itself.

Go destroy the glass windows… Go destroy the glass windows…

Nothing else mattered to him.

Grayson finally reached the scooter. But instead of climbing on behind the delivery girl, he suddenly kicked her right off.

“AAAH!”

She crashed onto the wet pavement. Before she could even process what had happened, Grayson grabbed the handlebars, jumped onto the scooter, and sped away without so much as a glance back.

Within seconds, he was gone.

The delivery girl lay on the ground, her knees scraped and her clothes soaked in dirty rainwater. She stared down the empty street, unable to believe what had just happened.

Chief…? Why…?

Tears began rolling down her cheeks.

Only moments ago, she had been dreaming of spending the rest of her life with him. And now, that very same man had kicked her off her own scooter and abandoned her without a second thought.

She covered her face with both hands and burst into tears.

For the first time in her life, she had fallen in love.

And for the very first time, her heart had been broken.

Section 8: Longing for a Kiss

The delivery girl sat on the wet pavement, crying her heart out. Her knees were scraped, her clothes were soaked, and Grayson had already disappeared with her scooter.

Just then, someone approached and gently offered her a hand.

“Hey, are you okay?”

She slowly looked up.

Standing before her was an elderly-looking man with a deeply wrinkled face, wearing an old-fashioned railroad worker’s uniform from the 1950s. He looked at least eighty years old, yet there was something strangely radiant about him. He almost seemed to glow.

The delivery girl’s tear-filled eyes suddenly sparkled.

She took his hand, and he gently helped her to her feet. For the next minute or two, they simply stood there, gazing into each other’s eyes without saying a word. The rain had stopped, the street was quiet, and somehow, her broken heart was already beginning to heal.

Finally, she broke the silence.

“Um… Can I be your girlfriend? I know this sounds crazy! You look about eighty, and I’m only twenty. That’s a sixty-year age gap! But you know what? I really don’t mind!”

The man blinked in surprise.

“What are you talking about? I’m only eighteen.”

She gasped.

“WHAT?! Oh my God! Wait, so you’re not actually an old man?! You’re just a really old-looking young guy?! That’s adorable!”

He shrugged casually.

“Yeah, I get that a lot.”

The delivery girl giggled, her earlier heartbreak already fading from her mind.

“Oh, one more thing! Do you already have a girlfriend?”

He hesitated for a moment.

“Uh… yeah, I do.”

But she didn’t seem bothered in the slightest.

“Oh, that’s okay! I don’t mind at all! Oh, and by the way, my name’s Monica!”

He gave a small nod.

“Lawson.”

Monica gazed into Lawson’s eyes for another moment, then leaned forward and gently kissed him on the lips.

It wasn’t wild or rushed. Just a soft, tender kiss between two people who had only just met.

When their lips finally parted, Monica smiled dreamily and whispered.

“You know what… I’ve been longing for my very first kiss with someone I truly love… every single night.”

And just like that, a day filled with violence, heartbreak, and absolute madness finally came to an end.

As for Lawson? He was just walking home. Somehow, he’d managed to pick up a beautiful new girlfriend along the way.

Raymond vs. Cops — Part 1

Section 1: Broken Lips, I Choose You!

The heavy rain had finally stopped, leaving the streets of Flushing City wet and glistening beneath the streetlights.

Chief Grayson stood before his officers with one hand on his hip. Suddenly, he struck a ridiculous pose and dramatically pointed toward Raymond.

“Broken Lips, I choose you!”

He sounded exactly like a Pokémon trainer sending his Pokémon into battle.

The officers exchanged bewildered glances. Broken Lips slowly turned toward his Chief, his mouth still swollen from the earlier baton attack.

“What?! Why is it always me?! I was the first one last time, too! Can’t you send somebody else first?!”

Grayson ignored his protests and quietly backed away behind the other officers until he was safely standing beside the delivery girl.

He pointed impatiently at Broken Lips.

“Get your ass over there! Keep stalling, and I’ll smash those lips again! Don’t test me!”

The delivery girl, however, was far more supportive. She raised a clenched fist and cheered him on enthusiastically.

“You can do it, Broken Lips! I believe in you! If anyone can bring back the old Raymond, it’s you!”

Her encouragement was completely sincere.

Broken Lips glanced at her, then let out a long, theatrical sigh. He reached into his jacket, pulled out a cigarette, and lit it. After taking a slow drag, he exhaled a thick cloud of smoke and nodded confidently.

“All right, then! If none of you has the guts to do it, I guess I’ll have to handle this myself!”

With his cigarette hanging from his lips, Broken Lips slowly and dramatically catwalked toward Raymond. Like a professional fashion model showing off the latest spring collection, he swung his hips from side to side with every step.

Finally, he stopped directly in front of Raymond and pointed his finger just three centimeters from Raymond’s cheek.

“Listen up, you evil bastard! You’ve got ten seconds to surrender! Otherwise, I swear I’ll beat your face so badly, my busted lips will look beautiful by comparison!”

Raymond barely tilted his head. His pitch-black eyes remained expressionless as Dark Energy swirled around his body.

He spoke in a cold, emotionless voice.

“You’re wasting your breath.”

Without even looking at the officer, Raymond continued.

“I hear only the sound… of shattering glass.”

Section 2: The Weakest Pokémon

From behind the officers, the delivery girl began bouncing excitedly on her toes, pumping both fists like a cheerleader.

“Come on! Woohoo! You can do it, Broken Lips! You’re my hero! You look amazing! I love you!”

She cheered like a fangirl at a K-pop concert.

Grayson stole a sideways glance at her. Her youthful energy, beautiful face, and long black hair were exactly what he found attractive. But what really caught his attention was her bouncing breasts. He simply couldn’t take his eyes off them.

And just like that, he fell in love again. Or at least, with her breasts.

Meanwhile, Broken Lips was enjoying every second of the girl’s enthusiastic support. Broken Lips took the cigarette from his mouth and held its glowing tip just three centimeters from Raymond’s cheek. With a confident smirk, he began his countdown.

“Ten… nine… eight—”

Before he could finish, Raymond casually slapped him across the face.

WHAAAACK!

Broken Lips went flying backward through the air. He crashed onto the wet pavement and continued sliding across the smooth road like a hockey puck, finally coming to a stop more than twenty meters away.

The entire street fell silent.

The delivery girl froze mid-cheer, her fists still raised. Slowly, she lowered her hands and stared at the motionless officer in disbelief.

“Oh no… Turns out Broken Lips…”

She paused, her face filled with disappointment.

“…is just too weak.”

Meanwhile, Broken Lips lay flat on the pavement, fully conscious.

Despite being sent flying over twenty meters, he had suffered only minor injuries. His uniform was torn, his skin was scraped, and his body ached, but he was still perfectly capable of standing up.

Unfortunately, his injuries weren’t the problem.

It was fear.

That single slap had sent him flying without Raymond even trying. Broken Lips couldn’t bear to imagine what would happen if Raymond struck him with full force. His head might actually explode!

The thought alone made his entire body tremble. Then a warm sensation spread through his pants.

He had pissed himself.

There was absolutely no way he was getting back up to fight that monster.

So Broken Lips made the smartest decision of his entire police career.

He closed his eyes and pretended to be unconscious.

Back with the other officers, the delivery girl sighed in disappointment and turned toward Grayson.

“Well… Looks like it’s time for the next one!”

Grayson nodded calmly, showing absolutely no concern for his fallen subordinate.

“Don’t worry about him! He’s the weakest guy on our team anyway!”

He turned toward another officer and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“I choose you! Go!”

But who was the next unfortunate officer?

Section 3: Split Pants Evolved

A tall, skinny officer stood stiffly as Grayson placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Chief… Is it my turn?”

Grayson flashed a crooked smile and pointed straight at the officer’s crotch.

“Yup! From now on, you’re Split Pants! Look at you! Your pants are split wide open, and everyone can see your pink underwear! No doubt about it!”

The officer looked down. Sure enough, a large tear ran across the crotch of his uniform pants, exposing the bright pink underwear beneath.

Standing nearby, the delivery girl gasped and immediately covered her eyes with both hands. But curiosity quickly got the better of her. She peeked through the gaps between her fingers, her gaze settling on a rather noticeable bulge beneath the pink fabric.

Split Pants, however, seemed completely unfazed by the embarrassment.

Without a word, he shrugged off his uniform jacket and tossed it aside, revealing a tight black tank top that showed off his lean, wiry muscles. He then dropped his police baton onto the pavement and pulled a rusty metal pipe from his belt.

The pipe was badly corroded, looking as though it had been pulled straight out of a sewer.

The delivery girl’s eyes lit up with excitement.

“Whoa! Split Pants just evolved! I can feel it! His power level must’ve gone up by at least fifty percent!”

Split Pants gripped the pipe tightly, his expression turning deadly serious. He lowered his head and closed his eyes.

“I can’t afford to lose this fight. Not today. Because I’m not just fighting for myself… I’m fighting for my families!”

And he meant families. Plural.

Split Pants had two wives, each with a whole bunch of children. Supporting both households was no easy task, so he worked two jobs—police officer by day and low-level gangster by night.

His sunken cheeks, hollow eyes, and exhausted expression told the story of a man who had spent years struggling to feed far too many mouths.

For a brief moment, he pictured his two wives standing on either side of him, each resting a hand on his shoulder. Behind them stretched an enormous crowd of children, their hopeful little faces looking up at him. His dog stood on its hind legs, resting both front paws against his butt because it was too short to reach his shoulders.

Then his eyes snapped open, burning with determination.

He tightened his grip on the rusty pipe until his fingers left small dents in the metal.

With a fierce expression, Split Pants spread his legs wide and lowered himself into a powerful horse stance.

RRRRRIP!

The crotch of his uniform pants suddenly split apart even further, exposing his bright pink underwear in all its glory.

And right in the middle, an enormous bulge pressed proudly against the fabric.

The delivery girl froze. Her eyes widened, her cheeks flushed pink, and she slowly licked her lips.

“Oh my… That’s massive.”

Section 4: For My Families

Split Pants pointed his rusty metal pipe straight at Raymond, his eyes blazing with determination.

“You think you can beat me?! You’ve got nothing worth fighting for! But me? I’m fighting for something noble! Something real! The love of my families!”

Watching from the sidelines, the delivery girl was deeply moved by his passionate declaration.

“This world needs more men like him! Men with real responsibility… real masculinity!”

Grayson glanced at her admiring expression, his face twisting with jealousy.

“That guy?! Responsibility?! He’s got TWO wives, for Christ’s sake!”

Meanwhile, Split Pants gripped his metal pipe and began spinning it around his body like a kung fu master wielding a staff. The rusty pipe whirled around his shoulders, waist, and arms, spinning faster and faster as he built up momentum for twenty full seconds.

Without breaking the motion, Split Pants launched himself half a meter into the air, gripping the pipe with both hands and raising it high above his head.

“FOR MY FAMILIES! FOR MY TWO WIVES!”

With every ounce of strength he could muster, he brought the rusty pipe crashing down toward Raymond’s head.

The delivery girl clasped her hands against her chest, overwhelmed by his courage and devotion.

“Split Pants! I’m rooting for you! And if you don’t mind, I wanna be your third wife!”

Grayson nearly threw up. His fists clenched as he glared furiously at the officer in his torn pants.

That’s it! If we survive this, I’m firing that bastard! I’ll announce it in front of everyone!

Yet even in the middle of his jealous rage, Grayson couldn’t resist admiring the delivery girl’s long legs and short skirt. He bent down slightly, hoping to sneak a peek underneath.

Meanwhile, Raymond finally reacted.

Without the slightest change in expression, he tilted his head upward and casually raised his clenched fist into the path of the descending pipe.

CLAAAAANG!

The rusty metal pipe collided with Raymond’s bare fist, producing a deafening metallic crash.

A piercing, high-pitched screech followed, sending painful vibrations through the air. Everyone nearby instinctively covered their ears, their faces twisting in discomfort.

Even the delivery girl winced, pressing both hands against her head.

“Oh my God! My eardrums!”

Section 5: Resonance of Doom

The moment Raymond’s fist collided with the rusty metal pipe, a devastating wave of vibration shot through the weapon and instantly spread throughout Split Pants’ entire body, violently shaking his muscles, bones, and internal organs.

Still suspended in midair, Split Pants began vibrating at such an incredible frequency that his body and the metal pipe blurred together into a distorted, trembling figure. With nowhere to escape, the energy continued bouncing back and forth inside him, destroying his body from within.

Then he crashed onto the pavement with a heavy thud.

The instant his body struck the ground, the vibration finally traveled into the earth and dissipated. His trembling silhouette slowly returned to normal, leaving him sprawled across the wet street.

Raymond kept his fist raised, barely bothering to glance at his fallen opponent. He already knew the fight was over.

Behind him, Split Pants lay motionless, blood trickling from his mouth, nose, eyes, and ears. The devastating vibration had left his internal organs severely damaged.

Yet somehow, he was still conscious.

With trembling hands, Split Pants reached for his rusty metal pipe and struggled to push himself upright. The weapon he had wielded so proudly just moments earlier had now become his walking cane.

Two nearby officers watched in horror as he struggled to remain standing.

“Split Pants! Stop! The fight’s over! You don’t have to keep going!”

Another officer desperately called out to him.

“Please! You’ve done enough! Don’t fight anymore!”

But Split Pants gave no answer. He had no intention of fighting anymore.

Instead, he slowly turned away from Raymond and began limping toward home, leaning heavily on his pipe like an elderly man struggling to walk.

Every step was agony. His legs trembled, his breathing grew weaker, and blood continued dripping onto the pavement. Yet he refused to stop.

In a faint, trembling voice, he began murmuring to himself.

“Wife No. 1… Wife No. 2… My sons… my daughters… my dog…”

He tightened his grip on the pipe and dragged himself another painful step forward.

“No matter what… I’ll make it home… I’ll see you all again…”

And so Split Pants continued his lonely journey down the deserted street, leaving the stunned officers behind.

Section 6: The Fallen Family Man

Grayson watched Split Pants limp away, leaning heavily on his rusty metal pipe. Furious that his officer was abandoning the fight, he stormed forward and shouted.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?! Where the hell are you going, Split Pants?! You idiot! Get your ass back here! NOW!”

But Split Pants gave no response. He continued dragging himself down the deserted street, each step slower and more painful than the last.

Grayson was about to unleash another furious outburst when two officers hurried over and gently grabbed him by the shoulders.

“Chief, please… Let him go. Split Pants is done for. He doesn’t have much time left.”

Another officer shook his head, his voice trembling.

“Look at him, Chief… He could collapse any second…”

Grayson froze. Only then did he notice the trail of blood stretching behind Split Pants, his trembling legs, and the desperate way he clung to his rusty pipe just to stay upright.

What the hell…? Is he really dying?

His anger slowly faded as the terrible reality began to sink in. For once, the Chief had no orders to give and no insults to throw. He could only stand there, watching his wounded officer struggle toward home.

The other officers watched helplessly as Split Pants continued limping into the darkness, still faintly murmuring about his two wives, his children, and his beloved dog.

Even Grayson’s eyes began to glisten.

Then, without warning, Split Pants collapsed.

THUD!

His body struck the wet pavement and lay motionless.

A moment later, the rusty metal pipe slipped from his hand and hit the ground.

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

The pipe bounced several times, then spun slowly across the pavement before coming to a complete stop. Its final metallic echoes faded into the deserted street.

And then, silence.

The officers stood frozen, staring at their fallen comrade. One lowered his head and began to cry, while another wiped his eyes, struggling desperately to hold back his tears.

The delivery girl dropped to her knees, covering her face with both hands as she broke into uncontrollable sobs.

Grayson remained standing where he was, staring at Split Pants in disbelief. His lips trembled, but no words came out.

For the first time that night, he didn’t look like an arrogant police chief. He simply looked human.

And there, on the cold pavement, lay the man who had fought for his two wives, his countless children, and his beloved dog.

Split Pants would never make it home.

Section 7: Live to Tell the Tale

While everyone mourned the fallen Split Pants, another officer lay motionless about twenty meters away.

Broken Lips.

He hadn’t been unconscious at all. He’d been faking it ever since Raymond slapped him across the face.

Now, hearing the officers crying in the distance, he cautiously opened one eye.

Grayson stood frozen in grief, the delivery girl was sobbing uncontrollably, and the other officers were too busy mourning their fallen comrade to notice him.

Thank God I played dead! They’re all distracted… Now’s my chance to get the hell out of here!

Once he was sure nobody was watching, Broken Lips quickly opened his other eye. Then he rolled onto his stomach and began crawling away on his elbows, keeping his body as low as possible.

Like a frightened snake, he slithered across the wet pavement, inching farther and farther away from the battlefield.

Ten meters… twenty meters… thirty meters…

Once he was safely out of sight, Broken Lips sprang to his feet and sprinted away as fast as his legs could carry him.

“This is a fucking war zone! Nobody’s paying me enough for this shit!”

He ran for several blocks without looking back, terrified that Raymond might come after him.

Only after reaching the bustling city center did he finally slow down. Surrounded by brightly lit storefronts and glowing neon signs, he leaned against a lamppost, panting heavily as he wiped the sweat from his forehead.

“Jesus Christ… That was scary!”

He took a few deep breaths, trying to calm his racing heart.

After everything he’d witnessed tonight, the last thing he wanted was to return to the battlefield. He desperately needed something to calm his nerves and take his mind off the nightmare.

Just then, a glowing red sign across the street caught his attention.

Sakura Spa

Broken Lips stared at the sign for a moment.

That’s it! I need a hooker to calm my nerves!

A faint smile slowly spread across his swollen lips.

Without another word, he crossed the street and walked inside.

Law and Disorder

Section 1: The Incompetent Police Chief

Just as Chief Grayson was about to leave the police station’s break room, he casually picked up the score sheet recording everyone’s winnings and losses and began tearing it into tiny pieces.

“All right, boys! We’ve got a city to protect! Let’s move!”

“HEY! What the hell, Chief?! You were losing! How are we supposed to know who owes what now?!”

Grayson tossed the scraps into the trash and gave them a stern look.

“Enough of this nonsense! We’ve got more important things to worry about!”

“Oh, come on! You pull this crap every damn time!”

Ignoring their protests, Grayson marched toward the parking lot, with his fellow officers reluctantly following behind.

Outside, heavy rain poured down as Grayson stopped beside a patrol car, planted one hand on his hip, and pointed dramatically toward the street.

“Gentlemen! Tonight, we fight for justice! For peace! And for the safety of every citizen in our great Flushing City!”

His fellow officers walked straight past him without a word.

Grayson stood there awkwardly for a moment before hurrying to catch up.

Minutes later, their patrol car sped through the rain-soaked streets, its siren wailing.

Suddenly, a voice crackled over the police radio.

“Attention, all units! Suspect description confirmed. Male, extremely thin, unusually small eyes, distinctive facial hair, and reportedly wearing a pink apron. Last seen near Main Street and Holyshit Avenue.”

Grayson grabbed the microphone.

“Unit Seven responding! We’re in the area. Moving in now!”

Shortly afterward, the patrol car pulled up near an intersection lined with restaurants.

One officer glanced up at the street sign.

“Holy shit… Avenue. All right, we’re here!”

Through the heavy rain, the officers spotted a skinny, bald man smoking a cigarette in a nearby alley. He had unusually small eyes, a scruffy little beard, and a pink apron tied around his waist.

One officer leaned forward for a closer look.

“Hey, Chief… You sure that’s our guy?”

Grayson narrowed his eyes and nodded with absolute confidence.

“That’s him! No doubt about it! I never make mistakes! And if I’m wrong, I’ll eat that Holyshit sign!”

With their chief’s absolute assurance, the officers stepped out of the patrol car and approached the unsuspecting man.

Section 2: The Pink Apron

Fifteen minutes earlier…

Inside a busy noodle shop near Main Street, a skinny, bald man in a pink apron was busy chopping roasted ducks behind the counter.

After hours of preparing noodles, slicing meat, and packing endless takeout orders, he was completely exhausted. He glanced at the clock.

9:00 PM.

With the dinner rush finally slowing down, he slipped through the back door for a cigarette.

The restaurant didn’t allow regular breaks, but smoke breaks were perfectly fine. So whenever he needed a little rest, he simply went outside for a smoke.

He sat down on the concrete steps behind the restaurant, lit a cigarette, and took a long, satisfying drag.

“Ahhh… Finally! A little peace and quiet.”

His thoughts soon turned to his miserable paycheck and the rent due in three days.

“Man, I can’t keep doing this forever. Maybe I should buy a lottery ticket. Win the jackpot, retire early…”

He sighed.

“Otherwise, I’ll be chopping ducks till I’m seventy!”

With nothing better to do, he pulled out his phone and scrolled through the news.

One headline immediately caught his attention:

“Maniac in Pink Apron Destroys Dozens of Storefronts!”

Curious, he opened the video and watched Raymond casually smashing glass windows with his bare fists.

The cook squinted at the screen.

“Holy crap… That guy kinda looks like me!”

He chuckled to himself.

“Bet he’s another kitchen worker who finally snapped. Can’t blame him! This job drives people nuts!”

He pocketed his phone and took another drag from his cigarette.

Suddenly, flashing red and blue lights flooded the alley.

A patrol car had pulled up nearby, and several police officers were marching toward him through the rain.

One officer pointed directly at the cook.

“HEY! YOU! HANDS WHERE WE CAN SEE ‘EM!”

The cook looked up from the steps, startled by the sudden shouting.

“Huh? Me? What’s going on?”

Another officer stepped forward, reaching for his handcuffs.

“GET DOWN ON YOUR KNEES! NOW!”

The cook scrambled to his feet, raising both hands in confusion.

“Whoa, whoa! Hold on! What did I do?!”

His cigarette slipped from his fingers and landed on the wet pavement as the officers rushed toward him.

Within seconds, he was surrounded, with no idea why the police were after him.

Section 3: Police Brutality 101

Before the cook could explain himself, several officers rushed forward and grabbed him.

Terrified, the cook immediately tried to surrender.

“Wait! Hold on! I surrender! I didn’t do anything!”

One officer twisted his arms behind his back and slapped on the handcuffs, while another shoved him face-first onto the wet pavement.

“STOP RESISTING!”

The cook’s voice trembled with fear.

“But I’m not resisting! I’m cooperating!”

Ignoring his pleas, the officers began kicking and punching him as he lay helplessly on the ground.

“Stay down, asshole!”

The cook begged desperately for mercy.

“I’m down! Please stop!”

Then he burst into tears, wailing like a frightened little child.

“WAAAAAAH! WAAAAAAH!”

But the beating continued.

The officers weren’t even angry at the cook. They were furious about having their card game interrupted, being forced to work late, and getting dragged out into the pouring rain. Now they finally had someone to take their frustrations out on.

For nearly ten minutes, they took turns beating him, repeatedly shouting that he was resisting arrest.

By the time they finally stopped, the cook was barely recognizable. His face was badly swollen, his clothes were torn, and his pink apron was stained with mud and blood.

He lay curled up on the wet pavement, struggling to catch his breath.

One officer crouched beside him and noticed his completely bald head.

“Hahaha! Look at this guy! Bald already at your age?! Damn, you look just like our Chief! Hahaha!”

The other officers burst into laughter.

Grayson, who had been standing nearby, suddenly fell silent.

Without a word, he slowly drew his police baton.

WHAAAAACK!

He swung it straight across the laughing officer’s mouth.

“AAAAAAAH!”

The officer staggered backward, clutching his face as blood streamed from his split lips.

The laughter stopped instantly.

Grayson glared at him.

“What the hell did you just say?! You want me to stuff you in a body bag and dump you into Flushing Bay?!”

The injured officer shook his head frantically.

“Oh no, Chief! No, Chief! Please don’t do that to me!”

“Then keep your damn mouth shut!”

From that night onward, the unfortunate officer would be known by a new nickname.

Broken Lips.

Section 4: Gangsterous Cops

Grayson turned toward the badly beaten cook, still gripping his bloodstained baton.

“HEY, YOU! Of all nights, you had to go smashing up the city in weather like this?! You got any idea what a pain in the ass it is for us to drag ourselves out here in the pouring rain?!”

Annoyed, Grayson casually smacked the cook on the head with his baton.

The cook lifted his swollen face and desperately pleaded with him.

“Chief, please! I’m not the guy you’re looking for! You’ve got the wrong man! I swear!”

Grayson crouched in front of him, looking thoroughly disgusted.

“You think that sob story’s gonna fool me?! I’m the Chief of Police! I’ve seen every trick in the book! Cut the cheap act!”

SLAAAAP!

He slapped the cook across the face.

“AAAAAH!”

Grayson stood up and turned to his officers.

“Come on, boys! Let’s teach this asshole one more lesson he’ll never forget!”

Without hesitation, the officers surrounded the helpless cook and began beating him all over again.

Punches and kicks rained down on him. With his hands still cuffed behind his back, all he could do was curl up and endure the blows.

“Please! No more! Please!”

But nobody paid him any attention.

As the beating continued, Grayson spotted something sticking out of the cook’s back pocket.

A wallet.

He casually pulled it out, flipped it open, and began counting the cash.

“Hmm… Not bad!”

Without a moment’s hesitation, he stuffed every dollar into his own pocket and tossed the empty wallet into a muddy puddle.

The cook could hardly believe what he had just witnessed.

Grayson caught him staring.

“What the fuck are you looking at?! Never seen a cop rob somebody before?!”

He gave the cook another kick for good measure.

Suddenly, the cook began coughing violently. Blood poured from his mouth, spreading across the rain-soaked pavement.

The officers immediately stopped beating him.

One of them took a nervous step backward.

“Uh… Chief? I think we might’ve gone a little too far.”

Another officer stared at the growing pool of blood.

“Shit! What if he dies?! We’re gonna have a mountain of paperwork!”

Grayson glanced down at the barely conscious cook and shrugged.

“All right, brothers! Wrap it up! I think the lesson’s been delivered! Let’s call it a day!”

He put away his baton and carefully straightened his greasy combover.

“Get this scumbag back to the station!”

Two officers grabbed the cook and hauled him to his feet.

Barely able to stand, he stumbled between them, his pink apron soaked with rainwater, mud, and blood.

His hands were still cuffed behind his back.

And the Chief had already pocketed every dollar he owned.

Section 5: Oopsie Daisy!

Just as the officers were about to drag the cook back to their patrol car, a deafening crash erupted from across the street.

CRAAAAASH!

Everyone turned toward the noise. Under the streetlights, a skinny man in a pink apron was strolling along the sidewalk, smashing storefront windows as effortlessly as breaking sheets of paper. He had small eyes, distinctive facial hair, and long, curly hair soaked by the rain.

It was Raymond.

One officer stared at Raymond, then glanced at the completely bald cook. Suddenly realizing something, he pointed across the street.

“Oops, Chief! I think we made a slight mistake! That must be the real Raymond! He’s not bald after all!”

Grayson narrowed his eyes. He looked at Raymond, then at the battered cook, and finally back at Raymond. After a few seconds of careful inspection, he realized they had arrested the wrong man.

He cleared his throat and quickly regained his usual confidence.

“Ahem! It’s all right, boys! Nobody’s perfect! We all make mistakes! What’s important is that we learn from them!”

Grayson straightened his uniform, puffed out his chest, and paused dramatically. Then, like a commanding general addressing his troops, he suddenly roared at the top of his lungs.

“ISN’T THAT RIGHT?!”

The officers immediately snapped to attention and shouted in unison.

“YES, CHIEF!”

The cook slowly raised his swollen face, hardly believing what he had just heard.

“Chief… I told you… I’m innocent…”

Grayson’s expression instantly darkened. Without warning, he kicked the cook in the stomach.

“Then why the hell didn’t you say something earlier?! You wasted our damn time!”

The cook curled up in pain, barely managing to speak.

“I’ve been trying, man… I’ve been trying…”

Grayson paid him no further attention. Instead, he pointed toward Raymond and barked another order.

“All right, boys! There’s our real suspect! Let’s move!”

The officers immediately hurried toward Raymond. Still furious about having wasted his time, Grayson gave the cook one last irritated kick as he prepared to leave.

“Damn you, son of a bitch!”

He turned and marched away without another glance.

Unfortunately, that final kick sent the cook rolling backward across the slippery pavement. With his hands still cuffed behind his back, he couldn’t stop himself from rolling straight into an uncovered storm drain beside the curb.

Grayson had no idea what had happened.

A moment later, a desperate voice echoed from deep underground.

“HEY! YOU HAVEN’T UNCUFFED ME YET!”

But nobody even bothered to look back. The police were already closing in on Raymond.

Section 6: Raymond the Villain

The officers hurried down the rain-soaked street toward Raymond, who was still wandering along the sidewalk, leaving a trail of shattered storefronts behind him.

But as they drew closer, an unsettling feeling began creeping over them. Thick, dark mist surrounded Raymond’s entire body, and his eyes had turned completely black. The overwhelming aura of Dark Energy radiating from him was enough to send chills down their spines.

The officers stopped about ten meters away, suddenly reluctant to take another step.

Grayson, however, couldn’t afford to look weak in front of his men. He stepped forward, puffed out his chest, and pointed confidently at Raymond.

“Hey, you! The criminal in the pink apron! Surrender immediately, or we’ll unleash the full wrath of the law!”

Raymond didn’t even acknowledge him. He simply stood in the pouring rain, his pitch-black eyes staring blankly ahead.

The officers exchanged nervous glances. Even Grayson felt a chill running down his spine, though he struggled to maintain his commanding expression.

Just then, a pretty young woman with long black hair arrived on an electric delivery scooter. She was wearing a delivery jacket, with a large insulated food bag attached behind her seat.

Noticing the police confronting someone, she slowed down and pulled over. But the moment she caught sight of the man in the pink apron, her eyes widened in disbelief.

“Wait a minute… Raymond?!”

She quickly got off her scooter and approached the officers.

“Excuse me, officers! What’s going on here? Why are you going after him?”

Grayson turned toward her, still trying to look authoritative.

“Ma’am, stay back! That man is a dangerous criminal! He’s been smashing storefronts all over Flushing City!”

The woman stared at Raymond, struggling to believe what she was hearing.

“What?! Raymond?! A criminal?! That can’t be right! I know him! He’s the owner of Ray’s Bakery!”

She took another look at his completely black eyes and the strange mist surrounding his body. Her shock quickly turned into concern.

“He’s always been such a nice guy! I’ve known him for a long time, but I’ve never seen him like this before! Officers, please be careful! Something’s seriously wrong with him!”

Grayson glanced briefly at Raymond before turning his attention back to the young woman.

For the first time since arriving at the scene, the dangerous criminal standing just ten meters away was no longer his main concern.

The Chief took a closer look at her pretty face and long black hair. Then his eyes slowly wandered downward, eventually settling on her chest.

A completely different thought crossed his mind.

Section 7: Abusing Authority 101

Grayson immediately put on his most charming smile and approached the young delivery woman.

“Well, well! Don’t you worry, miss! You’re in good hands! Really good hands! As Chief of Police, I personally guarantee your safety!”

He casually placed a hand on her shoulder, flashing a sleazy grin and giving her a suggestive wink.

“Now, I understand you’re worried about your friend. But dealing with dangerous criminals is our specialty! Just leave everything to us!”

As he spoke, his hand slowly crept down from her shoulder toward her chest.

The woman immediately caught his wrist and politely guided his hand back onto her shoulder.

“Uh… Thank you, Chief. I really appreciate your help.”

Grayson grinned as though nothing unusual had happened.

“Of course! Protecting beautiful young ladies like you is exactly why I became a police officer!”

His hand began wandering downward again.

Without missing a beat, the woman caught his wrist a second time and firmly returned his hand to her shoulder. She forced a nervous smile, clearly uncomfortable but afraid of offending the Chief of Police.

Grayson leaned closer, his greasy combover glistening under the streetlights.

“Say, miss! Once we’ve taken care of this criminal, how about you and I grab a nice dinner together? My treat!”

The woman hesitated, glancing nervously toward her delivery scooter.

“Um… That’s very kind of you, Chief, but I still have a lot of deliveries to finish tonight…”

“Oh, come on! Don’t be shy! It’s not every day a beautiful lady gets a personal invitation from the Chief of Police!”

She let out an awkward little laugh, desperately searching for a polite way to escape the conversation.

“Uh… Well… I’ll have to see…”

Grayson immediately broke into a delighted grin, taking her uncertain answer as a promising sign.

“Hahaha! Excellent! We’ll talk about it after I finish saving the day!”

He finally removed his hand from her shoulder and turned back toward Raymond, who was still standing motionless in the pouring rain.

The Chief straightened his uniform, carefully adjusted his greasy combover, and raised his police baton.

“All right, boys! Enough fooling around! Time to bring this criminal to justice!”

The officers tightened their grips on their batons, exchanging uneasy glances as they stared at the dark figure ahead.

Grayson puffed out his chest and took a confident step forward.

“Let’s show this bastard what the Flushing City Police Department is made of!”

Raymond remained completely silent, his pitch-black eyes fixed straight ahead as thick Dark Energy continued swirling around his body.

The officers had no idea what they were about to face.

Good Man Gone Bad

Section 1: The Death of a Dream

Ray’s Bakery had fallen completely silent.

The surviving customers had already fled, leaving behind overturned chairs, shattered glass, and a wrecked car in the middle of the bakery. The two customers struck by the car had been crushed into unrecognizable pulp, their remains flattened across the floor in a bloody mess of flesh and bone.

Raymond stood behind the counter, staring blankly at the destruction. His pink apron was covered in dust, and his crooked little mustache twitched beneath his nose.

The enormous glass wall he had rebuilt so many times was gone.

Again.

Soon, police cars, ambulances, and fire trucks arrived outside.

Two paramedics rushed inside, lifted the unconscious driver onto a stretcher, and hurried toward the entrance.

“Hey, buddy! Make some room! We gotta get through!”

Raymond didn’t respond. One paramedic brushed past him and muttered, “What’s with this guy? He’s standing there like a damn mannequin.”

Meanwhile, several police officers secured the scene, spreading white sheets over what remained of the two customers. Blood quickly soaked through the fabric.

A young officer stared at the mess in disgust.

“Jesus Christ. Do we really gotta cover that? There’s barely anything left! It’s just mush!”

His partner shrugged.

“Hey, rules are rules. Just throw the sheets on and let’s get this over with.”

As the officers stretched yellow police tape across the entrance, one noticed Raymond still standing behind the counter.

“Hey! You in the pink apron! This is a crime scene! You need to get out!”

Raymond didn’t move. His eyes remained fixed on the wreckage.

The officer rolled his eyes.

“Seriously? Now we gotta deal with this guy too? Boys, get him outta here!”

Four officers grabbed Raymond by his arms and legs, carried him through the entrance, and tossed him onto the sidewalk like a sack of flour.

THUD!

Raymond hit the pavement hard. Slowly, he pushed himself onto his knees, still facing the bakery, while the officers returned to their work.

He stared at the empty space where his beautiful glass wall had once stood. Beyond it lay the broken tables, ruined pastries, and the counter where he had served customers for so many years.

His hands began to tremble.

“It’s gone…” he whispered. “I can’t afford to fix it again.”

He lowered his head.

“My bakery… My childhood dream… It’s all gone.”

Section 2: The Dramatic Rainfall

Just minutes earlier, the sky above Flushing City had been perfectly clear.

Then, without warning, dark clouds swept across the sky, swallowing the sunlight. Strong winds rushed through the streets, followed by a thunderous roar.

KRAKOOOOOOM!

The rain came crashing down.

Within seconds, Raymond was soaked from head to toe. His pink apron clung to his thin body, and rainwater streamed down his crooked mustache. Yet he remained on his knees outside the police tape, staring silently at the ruins of Ray’s Bakery.

Several police officers had taken shelter inside the damaged building.

“What’s that guy doing out there? He’s gonna catch pneumonia!”

His partner glanced outside and shrugged.

“Let him. Maybe a little rain will knock some sense into him.”

Meanwhile, water poured through the bakery’s shattered entrance, quickly flooding the floor. The white sheets covering the two crushed customers were swept aside, and their bloody remains began washing toward a nearby storm drain.

One officer spotted the movement and nearly jumped out of his boots.

“Holy shit! The bodies are getting washed away! What do we do?!”

Another officer glanced over and shrugged casually.

“Relax, man. Mother Nature’s helping us clean up the scene. Saves us the trouble!”

Much of the remains soon disappeared into the rushing water.

Outside, Raymond hadn’t moved an inch.

Yet something inside him was awakening.

His once-gentle eyes slowly faded to a lifeless ash-gray. A strange black mist began swirling around his pupils, rising like smoke despite the relentless rain.

His trembling stopped. His fists tightened, and the thin muscles beneath his soaked apron grew firm, as though some invisible power were reshaping his body.

At last, Raymond rose to his feet.

The grief that had consumed him was gone, replaced by a cold, unsettling smile.

Two officers were heading toward their patrol car when Raymond suddenly lifted his head and declared in a booming voice:

“By the traumatic effect of the rain, I shall give up my sanity! I shall become the God of Destruction!”

One officer stopped and glanced back.

“God of what?! Go home, put on some dry clothes, and stop watching so much anime!”

The other shook his head.

“Forget him. That guy’s completely lost his mind.”

They climbed into their patrol car.

“Hey, hit the siren! I wanna get home before dinner gets cold!”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m on it.”

The siren wailed as they sped away through the storm, using their emergency lights to rush through traffic.

Raymond barely noticed them.

He stood alone in the pouring rain, his darkened eyes fixed on the street ahead.

The gentle baker who had spent his life serving bread and coffee was gone.

Something far more dangerous had taken his place.

Section 3: The Cake Shop Window

The heavy rain continued to pour over Flushing City.

A few blocks away from Ray’s Bakery, Raymond stood outside a cake shop, staring silently through its large glass window. Behind the glass sat a beautifully decorated birthday cake.

A young couple happened to walk past.

“Hey, babe, your birthday’s in two weeks. Want me to get you a cake like that?”

“Yeah, looks pretty good. That guy’s been staring at it forever.”

“See? There must be something special about it!”

They smiled and continued walking.

Suddenly, Raymond raised his fist and punched the glass.

THUMP!

The glass barely moved.

Without changing his expression, Raymond began punching the same spot repeatedly, alternating between his left and right fists with the steady rhythm of a machine.

The couple stopped and turned around.

“Whoa! Hey, mister! What the hell are you doing?!”

Raymond ignored them and continued punching.

“Baby, don’t bother! That guy’s completely nuts! Let’s get outta here!”

The woman grabbed her boyfriend’s arm and hurried away with him.

Raymond kept punching, rainwater streaming down his pink apron as his knuckles gradually turned red. Eventually, a tiny crack appeared in the glass.

Inside the shop, the owner looked up from his register and immediately stormed outside.

“HEY! What the hell do you think you’re doing to my window?! You wanna practice kung fu? Go find yourself a damn dojo!”

Raymond didn’t even look at him.

“Hey! I’m talking to you, asshole! Knock it off!”

The furious owner stepped forward and punched Raymond square in the face.

SMACK!

Raymond’s head snapped sideways, leaving a thin streak of blood across his cheek.

But without so much as a word, he turned back toward the window and resumed punching.

The owner froze in disbelief.

“What the hell…? Did you even feel that?!”

Raymond continued striking the glass as if nothing had happened. The crack slowly spread outward, branching across the window like a spiderweb.

The owner took a step back, suddenly realizing he was dealing with a complete lunatic.

“Screw this! I’m not messing with this psycho!”

He hurried back inside and immediately called the police.

Outside, Raymond continued punching until the cracks covered nearly the entire window.

Then, with one final punch—

KRAAAAAASH!

The entire glass window shattered, sending fragments crashing onto the sidewalk.

Raymond lowered his fists, turned around, and walked away into the pouring rain.

Section 4: The Vibration Technique

Raymond continued through the pouring rain until he reached another bakery.

He recalled the final few punches that had shattered the previous cake shop’s window. Just before the glass broke, he had felt a strange vibration running through his fists.

“Oh… vibration.”

He raised his right fist, causing his knuckles to vibrate at an incredible frequency. Then he gently pressed them against the glass.

The entire window instantly crumbled into thousands of tiny fragments, cascading to the ground like powdered sugar.

Inside the bakery, the owner stared at his destroyed storefront in disbelief. Without a word, he turned around and disappeared into the back room.

Before opening his bakery, the man had been a small-time gangster who robbed people, hijacked delivery vans, and fought in the streets. One successful robbery had earned him enough money to leave his criminal life behind and start a new business.

But today, his old instincts came rushing back.

He emerged from the back room carrying a rusty metal pipe and stormed outside.

“You crazy motherfucker! You pink-aproned, milk-smelling piece of trash! I’m gonna bash your fucking skull in!”

With the skill of an experienced street fighter, he swung the pipe straight toward Raymond’s head.

Raymond calmly raised his fist to meet the attack.

CLAAAAANG!

The pipe slammed against Raymond’s fist with tremendous force, sending a painful shock through the owner’s hands.

“AAAAAAAH!”

The owner immediately dropped the pipe. Both his arms went numb, and his fingers trembled uncontrollably.

“What the fuck?! What the hell was that?!”

Raymond stood completely unharmed. Ever since dark energy had consumed his entire body, his power level had skyrocketed.

The owner stumbled backward, staring at his trembling hands in horror.

“Okay! Okay! You’re a fucking demon! I give up! I ain’t messing with you anymore!”

He turned and fled back into his bakery.

Thirty seconds later, the former gangster was sitting on the toilet in his filthy restroom, his pants around his ankles. He was so terrified that he had completely forgotten to lower the toilet seat, sitting directly on the exposed porcelain rim without even noticing the wet urine stains and fresh feces smeared across it.

With trembling hands, he lit a cigarette, took a long drag, and slowly exhaled.

Staring blankly at the wall, he muttered:

“What the fuck was that vibration…?”

Section 5: Concussion Punch

Raymond continued through the rain-soaked streets of Flushing City, his pink apron clinging to his body.

Whenever he passed a storefront with a glass window, he stopped and delivered a light punch.

KRAAAAAASH!

The glass shattered instantly. Restaurants, bakeries, hair salons—nothing was spared.

Raymond paid no attention to the chaos. He simply moved from one storefront to the next.

Ten windows. Twenty. Forty…

With each punch, his vibration technique grew more precise. The glass no longer merely shattered. It practically disintegrated upon contact.

Raymond paused before a ruined storefront, watching the tiny fragments drift through the rain like silver snowflakes.

“I shall name my new technique… Concussion Punch!”

Then he burst into wild laughter.

“HAHAHAHAHAHA!”

Just then, a teenager rode past on his bicycle and overheard him.

“Yo! Concussion Punch? Seriously, bro? I’ve got Supernova Punch! Hey, dude, you gotta stop watching so much anime! Hahaha!”

The teenager laughed and performed a ridiculous kung fu gesture with one hand while balancing on his bicycle.

Raymond slowly turned his head toward him. His eyes were completely black, with dark mist swirling around his pupils.

The teenager’s smile vanished.

“Uh…”

He immediately grabbed his handlebars and pedaled away as fast as he could.

“AAAAAH! Sorry! I was just kidding!”

His apology faded into the distance as he disappeared down the street.

Raymond turned back toward the next storefront. Its glass wall was still intact.

But not for long.

Section 6: Breaking News

Television screens across Flushing City were suddenly interrupted by breaking news.

Footage showed a thin man in a pink apron approaching a storefront. With a single light punch, he shattered the entire glass wall.

KRAAAAAASH!

The news anchor began reporting:

“Over the past hour, dozens of businesses across Flushing City have suffered extensive damage. Witnesses report that a single individual is responsible, smashing storefront windows using nothing but his bare fists.”

The broadcast switched to the same female reporter, standing outside a damaged bakery in the pouring rain.

“It’s absolute chaos here in Flushing City! Storefronts have been destroyed across multiple blocks, and authorities believe the suspect may possess extraordinary martial arts abilities. This is far beyond ordinary vandalism!”

Suddenly, a short man in pajamas, sporting a distinctive bowl cut and wearing a cheap plastic mask that completely concealed his face, rushed into the camera’s view. Without warning, he wrapped his arms around the reporter’s waist and began groping her.

“HEY! What the hell?! GET OFF ME!”

SMACK!

The reporter punched him square in the face.

“AAAAAH!”

The man stumbled backward and fled down the street.

Without missing a beat, the reporter straightened her clothes and turned back to the camera.

“As you can see, tensions are running high throughout the city. Some residents appear to be experiencing temporary mental disturbances due to the extreme stress, just like the man you saw moments ago. We urge everyone to remain calm and stay safe.”

Meanwhile, Canelo was sitting on his couch, watching the news with a cigarette in his hand.

He paused the footage, immediately recognizing the man’s familiar bowl cut.

“Hold up… That’s Benson!”

He took another drag from his cigarette.

“Man, ain’t nobody else in this city that short and that stupid.”

Back on live television, the reporter received an urgent update through her earpiece.

“We’ve just received an official announcement from the central police precinct. Due to the widespread destruction, a citywide curfew is now in effect. All residents are urged to remain indoors unless absolutely necessary.”

She continued:

“A special tactical unit has been deployed to locate and apprehend the suspect. Authorities strongly warn residents not to approach the man in the pink apron under any circumstances.”

Behind her, the rain continued pouring over the shattered storefronts.

Flushing City was officially under curfew.

Section 7: Duty Calls

At the Flushing City Police Station, Chief Grayson was enjoying a game of poker with a few fellow officers in the break room.

Outside, heavy rain battered the windows while the television reported Raymond’s destruction across the city.

Grayson glanced at the screen and groaned.

“Jesus Christ! What kind of lunatic goes around punching windows in weather like this?!”

One officer looked up from his cards.

“Chief, they’ve declared a citywide curfew. The tactical unit’s already been deployed.”

“Good! Let those guys take care of it!”

Grayson returned to his cards, pleased with his unusually strong hand.

Just then, the police radio crackled.

“Attention, all available officers! Central Command has ordered additional personnel to assist with the emergency. Report for duty immediately!”

Grayson’s smile vanished.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me!”

He glanced at the pouring rain outside, then reluctantly pushed his cards aside.

“Unbelievable! I finally get a decent hand, and some damn lunatic decides to wreck half the city!”

Grayson grabbed his police cap, carefully adjusted his greasy combover, and headed toward the door.

Tonight was going to be one hell of a night.