Bare Fists and Burning Pride
Of course, my subconscious must have roughly crunched the numbers. Ever since dinner earlier, Nadia had started pitying me, and the white-haired monster had this habit of not killing outright anyone she cared about. Gulp. Drakan wouldn't want to risk even a single hair on Nadia's head, so with her and her father sleeping nearby, there was no way he'd go all out here. And on top of that, throughout the entire run of the original Yeonggwangdok, Drakan had never heard trash talk like that from anyone except one guy—he'd be stunned.
"………………"
Sure enough, Drakan's mouth fell open just a crack. Beyond sheer absurdity, his face screamed disbelief at the profanity he'd just heard. He could only spit out that one question at the white-haired monster.
"………What?"
"You deaf, old man?"
One step toward the cabin door.
"Let's throw down—"
Another step. The instant he planted it.
"—right now!"
I exploded with energy from head to toe, kicking off the ground with my back foot.
Boom!
Diving straight into Berserk Mode. First strike wins!
I launched myself at Drakan. My muscles swelled across my entire body, hot steam rising from every inch of skin, and a strange glow flickered in my vision like heat haze.
The fierce wind pressure from my powerful leap hit right then.
Three meters? Two meters? At this point, closing in fast on the white-haired monster with his oddly twisted expression.
"Kr-haaap!"
"Hoo."
Second burst: lightning aura. Golden currents sparked from every part of my body in berserk overdrive.
Crackle!
Bzzt-crackle!
Right as the electricity snapped around my clenched fist in my sight.
Kaboom!
Acceleration. In that instant, the world slowed.
Just me speeding up. The golden currents at the edge of my vision, the moonlight pouring from the sky, the white-haired monster's face already right in front of me—everything crawled like maggots.
Thud.
I slammed my front foot down hard.
One solid hit and...
Channeling the leaping momentum from my back foot up through my waist and shoulder, I unleashed a full-power right hook straight for Drakan's jaw.
Kaboom!
This was a 0.001-second world. Even the water spilling from a cup hitting the ground looked like a sunset dragging on forever. Right up to the moment my right fist closed to within centimeters of his cheek, Drakan didn't twitch a muscle.
It's gotta land.
Calculations done. My fist sliced through the air, slow and deliberate. Trajectory, direction, power, timing—perfect.
No way it works this easily?
Thinking back, I'd never seen anything survive a punch at my max output.
Maybe, just maybe... even at 100% condition, this body could hang with one of Yeonggwangdok's top monsters if I caught him off-guard for even a split second?
That thought had barely crossed my mind when—
Kaboom!
Thanks to my accelerated perception, I saw it in slow motion: the instant my fist touched the white-haired monster's cheek!
Hit...!
My right fist started passing straight through his face. No solid impact at the knuckles, nothing heavy.
...Huh?!
His face fluttered and flew off like smoke. Not just the face—head, neck, the whole body twisted away along my punch's path, dissipating like mist in a typhoon.
Like paint swirling down a sink. The sight of it scattering, losing all form, sent chills racing down my spine.
Afterimage...?!?
When the hell? He'd been right there a second ago!
A flood of questions hit my brain, but the confusion didn't last.
Splat.
An attack from somewhere smashed into my side. Ribs cracking, pain like nothing I'd ever felt exploded through my body.
I crumpled. Berserk Mode shattered in an instant.
Right before blacking out, as my mind faded, Drakan's flat voice drilled into my ear.
"Kid, I said let's take it to the clearing."
…
Under the moonlight.
"…Kuhk!"
I gasped awake, ragged breaths heaving. How much time had passed? First thing I saw: sheer cliffs jutting up like they'd been carved.
And peeking into my field of view as I lay there—the white-haired monster.
"Fuck!"
"Regenerating this fast?"
I bolted upright in shock, scanning my surroundings.
This was a wide-open clearing. Towering cliffs loomed over dense trees and boulders.
"Heh, so Pauche's rumors were true after all?"
Drakan watched me take a defensive stance in silence, arms crossed, looking intrigued.
"What're those eyes for? You know who woke you up, right?"
"What?"
In lieu of an answer, he pointed at my feet. Shattered vial shards.
"One healing potion. That's your debt to me for losing."
"What kinda bull—"
My side throbbed suddenly. I'd ignored it, but thin white steam rose from the spot.
Oh... ribs were busted.
No idea how many, but it looked like the white-haired monster had doused my wrecked body with healing potion while I was out.
"Still, I'll give you credit. Your story wasn't total bullshit."
"…"
"Ribs included, twenty shattered bones and ruptured organs, healing this fast from just one potion. Only a lunatic like Pauche could make a body like that."
Fuck, twenty bones? What the hell did he hit me with?
I didn't show my disbelief. Nor did I mention that this body's broken parts healed fine from regular meat if you ate enough—no potion needed.
"So, shall we finish that chat from before?"
Drakan, still underestimating (or overestimating?) this body, approached with curious eyes glinting.
"I've got a lot of questions for you. First off—"
"Hold up."
My turn to speak. I had questions too.
One that'd been gnawing at me since I woke up, impossible to ignore.
Not why he'd healed me, or what he wanted to know, or why drag me here.
"How'd you do it?"
"Huh?"
"How'd you make me miss?"
"Eh?"
"How the fuck did you dodge my punch!"
Pride. Pure pride over this body I'd earned through hellish effort in this world, my 100% strike whiffing without grazing him—I needed some explanation.
Drakan gave me a puzzled look for a second, then snorted.
"Funny guy. You think I'd take a straight punch reeking of pure killing intent, no aura?"
"Aura?"
"Ah."
He chuckled like he'd realized something, then slowly unclenched his fist. Invisible energy gathered at the tip.
...What the?!
Hold on. Flashed back to before I washed up—hurling that massive oar at Ivan Hellenger's ship. The energy that bloomed from my hand, flowed into the oar, and shattered the magic circles on the rails. Nothing like electricity or heat haze.
That was aura?
Aura. In the original Yeonggwangdok, which skimped on action scenes anyway, fights were just "beat 'em down" summaries, mentioned only in flashbacks. No wonder I didn't know.
Curiosity sated, but—
Hot rage bubbled up, and my mouth opened again.
"………Again."
"What?"
"Fuck, let's go again!"
Pride, yeah. Not just from surviving Monster Island, but from my old life back on Earth. The grinding path walked with my workout-obsessed brother. Not just single arts like jiu-jitsu or boxing, but modern MMA backed by gym and CrossFit. Surrounded by sweaty dudes every day, no girls in sight—that life forged me.
I knew fighting inside out. If it was some new-world martial art or freakish movement I couldn't match, fine. But—
"Aura? Fuck that. Bare hands, I win."
Aura? That's just magic. You call yourself a physical monster?
Same human—losing without knowing why? No dice.
Crack!
I smashed a small rock next to me with a Brazilian kick, teeth gritted, proposal out.
"No weird shit from me either, straight up. Come at me again."
A weird grin crept across Drakan's face.
"No aura?"
"No aura."
"Bare hands?"
"Bare hands!"
He twisted his lips, mulling my words.
"That's a damn interesting proposal."
Of course, I had no clue then. How thrilled that mad monster really was.
…
His heart pounded wildly.
Drakan's—the heart of one of the world's top powerhouses.
Thud-thump!! Thump-thud!!
Thud-thump!! Thump-thud!!
Robust as a dragon's, it raced with his steps, his interest igniting.
This fucker... what is he?
Staring at the snarling young monster before him, he suppressed a roaring laugh with superhuman will.
I almost ate that punch?
A split-second instinct. He'd gone full throttle the moment he sensed it, or a stray thought would've let it graze.
No real damage, but... for Drakan, lately bored to death, it was huge.
"What're you waiting for, old man!"
Ignoring the gap he must feel as overwhelming, the kid just growled and charged.
Obvious at a glance. Even now, he could take on a decent Swordmaster.
And yet.
Room to grow.
His hunger for strength burned hot!
Thud-thump!! Thump-thud!!
Drakan felt pretty damn good! Last guy to give him this thrill? None in ten years!
"What, no confidence bare-handed?"
"That mouth."
Unable to hold back, he shrugged laughing, ripping off his top.
"Been a while since I heard that."
"So—"
"Fine."
Flexing his brutal, scar-riddled torso, he was ready.
"Bare hands it is."
Ready to play with the cocky young punk till dawn broke...
***
Meanwhile.
Somewhere in the Carbon Kingdom.
In a family annex lit by lavish chandeliers.
"What an amusing story."
A woman who'd been trying on dresses till dawn, staring into a full-length mirror, turned and asked.
"Drakan showed up?"
"Yes."
"Where'd you hear that rumor?"
"From folks around Ivan Hellenger, who just returned."
"Oh ho ho, that idiot?"
"Yes."
"Didn't he go subjugate Monster Island? Already back?"
"That's right."
The head butler bowed politely, one arm raised. His scarred face delivered the rumors swirling around the eastern ports lately.
"He claims he subjugated Monster Island, but internally, there's grumbling. Some of his magic swordsmen got drunk in a tavern, saying Drakan showed up right before the subjugation and ruined everything."
"Oh ho ho, really?"
She laughed lightly at that, then murmured to her mirror, hiking her skirt to flex her toned thighs.
"So, Drakan's back on this eastern continent?"
"High probability."
"He won't show at the palace ball, right?"
"Probably... not."
"Tch."
She'd been staring at the mirror forever, now fiddling with the sheath on her garter belt below her thigh.
"Guess this ball'll be boring too. I like my men muscled."
"There's Ivan Hellenger."
"Pass on that moron."
"You never know. They say the palace ball has a bigger budget than last year, so you might see some new male guests you haven't met."
"Hmmm."
She twirled the knife she'd drawn, tapping her lips.
"Think I'll find one at this ball?"
Simona Kuhn, Carbon's man-hunter who lived for breaking strong men, licked her lips and muttered.
"A man to my taste."