Ronan stood face-to-face with the blond-haired man. From the roar of the crowd, he instantly knew—the man's name was Leandro.
The commentator didn't miss a beat. "OHH! We've got a new challenger! Jumped straight down from the VIP section! A foreign kid, a new face! A new face!" he shouted with excitement.
The cheers echoed thunderously, shaking the arena. Meanwhile, Leandro stood before him—like a predator who had just smelled fresh blood. He grinned wide, eyes locked on Ronan like the boy was just a morning snack.
"Prepare yourself, kid," he said casually, completely relaxed. His tone oozed confidence—like he'd already won, just from the difference in height and muscle mass.
Without warning, Leandro opened with a quick jab. But Ronan's Hunter's Sense kicked in instantly, making his body move before his brain could even react—he dodged swiftly, immediately seeking a safer position.
But Leandro wasn't the type to give room to breathe. The next punch came right after—brutal and powerful. This time, Ronan countered—their fists collided with a heavy thud.
THUMP!
Ronan staggered back, his body thrown off balance. He had to take several steps to steady himself. The force of that punch… was insane.
Leandro's expression started to shift. No longer as amused as before. Ronan's punch might've lacked power, but the feeling—it was like being stabbed with a spear. Leandro's brow furrowed.
Kyle, watching from above, narrowed his eyes. There was something in Ronan's strike—something... intriguing.
Leandro attacked again. Brutal. Pure muscle-fueled fury, throwing punch after punch with the intent to destroy.
THUMP!
THUMP!
THUMP!
Fists clashed, the echo of impact booming through the air. The crowd screamed with glee. Ronan kept dodging, eyes scanning for an opening.
And when that opening came—BAM!—a clean uppercut smashed into Leandro's chin. A soft crack followed. Leandro jerked back, nearly losing his footing.
Ronan grinned—not just because the hit landed, but also a glowing notification popped up right in front of him.
[New Skill Acquired: Basic Uppercut]
[Description: A basic uppercut with moderate power and precision]
One new skill... but he wasn't satisfied yet.
Without hesitation, Ronan lunged forward, throwing a quick jab into Leandro's chest. But this time, Leandro didn't budge—and suddenly, he grabbed Ronan's torso tight.
"I got you, little bitch," he snarled, grinning like a devil.
Then—BANG!
Ronan was slammed into the ground with bone-crushing force.
Twice.
BANG!
Third.
BANG!
Four times.
BANG!
His body hit the cold concrete again and again, pain exploding like lightning across his nerves. And just before the fourth slam—
[New Combat Skill Acquired: Impact Reduction]
[Description: Your body begins to understand the direction and energy of impacts. Reduces collision damage by 15%]
The pain that had been unbearable just seconds ago... now dulled slightly. His system—incridible.
Leandro looked down at him. "Come on, virgin. Givin' up already?" he taunted.
But Ronan pushed himself up. Breathing heavy, body shaking, but eyes sharp and locked in.
Leandro grinned. "Good. I didn't want you passing out just yet."
Ronan smirked right back. "That was never part of the plan."
That confidence pissed Leandro off. The relaxed mask fell away, replaced by rage. He lunged forward, throwing another punch—but Ronan dashed aside with Swift Dash, spun around behind him and—
BAM!—a jab to the back, boosted by Fracture Drive.
THUMP!
THUMP!
THUMP!
In rapid succession, Ronan's fists hammered into Leandro's weak spots. The big man grunted in pain, twisting around with a wild swing—but Ronan slipped past it again.
Then—an opening.
WHAM!—a hard, fast punch landed square in Leandro's solar plexus. His eyes widened, breath caught in his throat, and his massive body dropped to the floor, wheezing.
Ronan stood over him, chest heaving, adrenaline surging through every vein.
[New Combat Skill Acquired: Fast Jab]
[Description: A quick, precise straight punch. Has a 5% chance to cancel enemy attacks]
And then—
[Skill Fusion Available]
'Fusion?' Ronan blinked, startled. But before he could react, his instincts screamed—too late.
Leandro, face bloody and twisted in fury, grabbed his throat. His breath caught. His mouth opened wide, searching for air.
"You're fucking dead!" Leandro roared.
He slammed Ronan into the floor.
BAM!
Once again.
BAM!
A second time.
BAM!
A third.
Ronan's vision blurred, pain blotting out everything. But he clenched his teeth, and with one last burst of strength—WHACK!—he landed a punch straight into Leandro's face. The hit broke his nose with a sickening crunch and forced him to release his grip, blood spraying.
Ronan dropped to his knees, body trembling. Breath shallow. Blood dripping from his temple. His ribs—possibly broken.
Even a few seconds of reprieve didn't matter—darkness loomed above him again as Leandro rose, his face twisted with rage, a large hand glowing with energy behind him.
Leandro stood tall. Energy surged in his right arm—a special ability.
"You're dead," he said softly, coldly.
The audience erupted in panic. The commentator shouted. Security started moving—though too late.
Ronan looked up, panic on his face. That strike would kill him.
But before it could land—
BOOM!
A blast of blue energy slammed into Leandro from the side, throwing him off balance.
And in that very moment, a man stood between them—Kyle.
Leandro's face contorted into a snarl, but before he could strike again—
CRACK!—a punch from Kyle, fast, clean, deadly, exploded with blue energy.
BOOM!
Leandro flew across the arena, smashing into the wall, collapsing unconscious.
Ronan gasped for breath, his body shaking. But relief flooded in.
At this point, security had finally arrived, swarming the arena. Using a special ability during a fight was against the rules. Though common, they always acted fast—well, except this time.
Whispers spread through the crowd. Some talked about the fight, but others murmured about Kyle's sudden appearance.
"Isn't that Young Master Kyle Ashbourne?"
"Damn, just like the rumors say—he's insanely strong. His special ability is something else."
"Why did he step in? Who is that kid, really?"
Now Ronan became the center of speculation. Who was he? Why did Kyle protect him?
Amidst the noise, Kyle approached Ronan and offered a hand. Ronan took it.
"That was a good fight. You could've won—if you hadn't gotten distracted halfway through," he said.
Ronan gave a weak laugh. "Yeah… something just popped into my head out of nowhere, like a bubble bursting."
Kyle nodded. "What matters is—you gained something from this fight." He looked Ronan in the eyes. "And because of that… we need to talk. A lot. Let's go."
He turned around and walked away. Ronan followed behind—staggering with every step.