This feeling of fighting with his ultimate moves against someone else's basic attacks made him feel like a street performer, with the other guy being the spectator holding coins, watching the show.
"Sky Hammer!"
"Cat Lands!"
"Bear Paw Strike!"
"Taste my Flying Crane Catches Shrimp!"
"Two Dragons Play with a Pearl!"
"Gorilla Breaks Branch!"
Afu's technique names came faster and more densely, his attacks growing increasingly wild and fierce. Yet, Victor still moved as if strolling through a garden, occasionally even letting out a laugh at a particularly absurd move name.
That laughter was like a whip lashing against Afu's proud heart.
Finally, with a roar filled with unwillingness and exhaustion, Afu used his opening move once more:
"Crow Sits on an Airplane!"
He leapt into the air again, kicking towards Victor.
This time, however, Victor had lost his playful mood. He sighed, his tone carrying a hint of regret, as if thinking, "The show's repeating, time to change the channel."
"Yo, out of new moves already? Starting the replay cycle?"
Watching Afu's flying kick approach, Victor neither dodged nor avoided it. He simply raised his foot, striking later but arriving first—a perfectly precise side kick, the sole of his shoe landing solidly on Afu's chest.
"Thud!"
A dull thud echoed. Afu flew backwards like a kite with its string cut, faster than he had arrived, crashing like a bowling ball into the formation of Shadowkhan Ninjas poised behind him.
Instantly, the shadow soldiers were thrown into disarray, a large group toppling over and dissipating into wisps of green smoke.
Victor casually brushed off non-existent dust from his pant leg. Looking at the messy scene and the stone dragon on the wall who looked ready to explode from anger, he revealed an exceedingly bright, utterly infuriating smile:
"Thanks for the lesson, Crow. But, calisthenics time is over. I'm clocking out."
"Don't even think about leaving!"
Holy Lord's furious roar reverberated through the office, tinged with a frantic tremor.
At his will, more Shadowkhan Ninjas seeped out from the shadows of the walls and floor.
A dense, black mass completely blocked the path to the heavy solid wood door, their cold killing intent almost solidifying in the air.
Pushing the cleaning cart laden with "spoils of war," Victor scratched his head helplessly, his face clearly displaying annoyance at having his vacation disturbed.
"Sigh, honestly, I'm getting a bit tired of this attrition warfare."
He sighed, as if talking to himself, yet also seeming to call out towards an empty spot.
"Little Brother Number One, I know you're already here. Stop hiding. Come block them."
"Don't call me Little Brother Number One."
A slightly gloomy voice, suppressing some emotion, came from behind the Shadowkhan Ninjas blocking the door.
The ninjas turned their heads.
At the doorway stood a youth dressed plainly, with a somewhat thin and weak build. He kept his head down, his disheveled hair partially covering his eyes, emanating an incongruously oppressive and sullen aura.
"Not call you Little Brother Number One?"
Victor raised an eyebrow, pushing the cart slowly towards him, his tone teasing.
"Should I call you 'Good Boy' like I do with Laurel?"
He walked up to the youth and very naturally patted his shoulder, the gesture intimate, as if encouraging a shy younger brother. Yet his words carried a cold threat:
"Be a good boy and listen. Unless you want to be Venom's afternoon snack."
The youth's body stiffened almost imperceptibly.
Victor acted as if he didn't notice his tension, continuing in that "big brother looking out for little brother" tone:
"I know you've been holding back for days, must be stifling, right? Well, here's your chance. Let it all out, Little Brother Number One."
He pointed at the Shadowkhan formation in front of them and Afu, who was struggling to get up. "Get some exercise. Good for your health."
Having said that, as if concluding some trivial matter, he pushed the creaky cleaning cart and leisurely walked out through the passage the youth had cleared. He even turned back to add:
"Oh, right. On your way back, grab me a chocolate milkshake. Double sugar."
The entire process was smooth and effortless, as if he were merely temporarily storing a troublesome package and instructing the delivery guy to bring a drink later.
"Stop him! Stop him!!"
Holy Lord let out his—who knows how many times today—almost cracking roar. His stone body groaned under the strain of extreme fury.
Orders were absolute! The Shadowkhan Ninjas instantly sprang into action, surging forward like a black tide, brandishing sharp ninja forks, rushing towards the seemingly isolated, thin youth at the door!
Afu, who had just suffered a major defeat and was seething with anger, also turned his target towards this newly appeared "soft target," his eyes gleaming with ferocity:
"Can't beat that Black Cat, but I can't beat you?! Take this!"
Meanwhile, Afan, Rasu, and Nathan behind Valmont exchanged meaningful glances, quietly shuffling their feet backwards.
They adopted a stance of "we're not going up to be cannon fodder unless you specifically order us, boss," opting to observe from the sidelines.
Rasu even muttered under his breath, "I still haven't found my milkshake..."
Facing the surging onslaught, the youth, who had kept his head lowered, slowly raised his face.
Those eyes, which should have been human, were now filled with chaos, pain, and a kind of violent frenzy on the verge of bursting.
A low growl, similar to a beast suppressing its rage, emanated from his throat.
"As you wish..."
That whisper seemed to flip a switch.
The youth's body began a terrifying metamorphosis!
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