Arca realized one thing—his opponent's move just now was too obvious.
A feint...
He immediately stepped back towards the window, dodging before the trap fully closed.
But the man did not stay idle.
With intense force, he dashed forward again, trying to trap Arca in a flurry of punches. Right hand strikes, then the left follows quickly. Boxing technique. Dirty but trained. The rhythm was neat, agile, and pressing.
Like an eel, he was slippery and nimble. Every movement was proof of years of hard training.
But Arca wasn't fully focused on him. There was something... more dangerous.
Behind.
That feeling was more than just a hunch. It was combat instinct. Without a second thought, Arca ducked and jumped away from the window.
CRAASSHH!!
The window glass shattered. Its shards reflected the evening light, sparkling like falling stars. And from there—from the height of the second floor—appeared a figure that defied logic.
Aswa.
He shot like a meteor from the field far below, as if gravity did not apply to him. He didn't touch the wall, nor lean on anything. His body floated freely, like thrown by a war god.
With a spinning hip and left knee raised to maintain balance, his right foot slammed straight forward—
BHUAKK!!
The straight kick hit the man's face, twisting his neck and lifting his body off the ground. For a moment he floated, then slammed into the wall, breaking through it.
Silence.
Only the sound of the wind, and shards of glass falling one by one to the floor. Everyone was silent, including the group of men who had just seen their leader fall in a single strike.
Arca turned his head toward Aswa, raising his eyebrows.
"Why do you like messing with people?"
"Messing?" Aswa looked confused.
"That's my opponent. I deliberately made it long to make it exciting, but... well…"
Arca sighed deeply. His gaze then shifted outside the window. In the field, dozens of Srengseng High School students were already lying unconscious.
"Why are you late?" Arca asked.
"Just... had a little disturbance," Aswa answered casually.
Suddenly—
"BASTARD!!"
One of the man's henchmen shot forward like a rocket. Rage exploded from his face. The ground cracked beneath his feet as his body rushed quickly toward Arca.
"That's the one who beat your boss, huh!" Arca pointed at Aswa with his thumb—but the man didn't care.
With a lowered body, he struck Arca's stomach, trying to push him roughly. Arca stumbled half a step back, but his face remained calm.
"Why am I always the one...?"
His right hand automatically rose.
DUGHH!!
Arca's elbow struck hard on the man's neck. He instantly collapsed. No chance to scream. The floor beneath cracked from the impact.
The others began to advance. A group. Wild.
But Aswa was already moving.
"I'll go first!" he said, then dashed toward the stairs.
"Wait—Aswa, I'll come!" Arca shouted.
But Arca stayed put. He knew if the remaining henchmen were left alone, they could cause trouble. And this time... Aswa needed his own stage.
Aswa reached the third floor.
The corridor was quiet. Empty. Only one door at the end. He walked slowly, calmly.
The door was locked.
He closed his eyes, trying to sense anyone inside. But… nothing.
Strange.
With one kick, he smashed the door open. The room opened, and inside…
Empty.
No one—only a large throne at the back of the room. Silent. But clean. Not a speck of dust.
As if someone… had just sat there.
Aswa stepped forward. Approached.
Suddenly—
That feeling appeared. A sharp presence behind.
His body's reflex responded.
Without looking back,
He launched a rear straight kick—aimed right at the chest of whoever approached.
DUAKH!
But... it was stopped.
Someone's foot caught his attack from below.
"It's you! Damn it!" the familiar voice shouted.
"Aswa?" Arca glared. "Crazy, I almost died, you know!"
Aswa grinned awkwardly.
But before they could laugh together...
KRKKK...
Something appeared on the throne.
Like mist parted by wind. A figure sat there. Dim. Eyes glowing red amid the shadows.
Calm. But imposing.
"How did you get in here...?" he said, coldly.
-TO BE CONTINUED-.