As A Mafia Boss, I Refuse To Be An Extra Chapter 94: You Need To Become A Monster

"You guys, go buy yourself proper weapons from Tranquil City. Good quality ones, not the cheap garbage you’ve been using."

Damian addressed his Mafia mbers as they walked away from the central courtyard, his hands tucked casually in his pockets while the others followed behind in loose formation.

"Take the armored trucks we brought previously with you. And if the money feels insufficient for what you need, just ssage . I’ll transfer more imdiately. Don’t compromise on quality to save costs."

Excited murmurs spread through the group.

Finally, they could replace the basic Academy-issued weapons they’d been forced to use. They could get equipnt that actually matched their growing skills!

"Thank you, Boss!"

"I’ve been looking at this spear design for weeks now!"

"Finally, I can get a proper bow with decent draw weight!"

Damian smiled slightly at their enthusiasm.

"I need to practice my weapon art in the forest for a while. You all know how to reach if sothing urgent cos up."

Edrin adjusted his glasses and nodded seriously.

"Understood, Boss. We’ll handle the weapon purchases and make sure everyone gets properly equipped. Take whatever ti you need for training."

"Good. Now go. And rember, you’re representing the Mafia when you’re in the city. Act accordingly."

The group split off, heading toward where the armored trucks were parked, their voices filled with excitent about finally getting real weapons.

Damian watched them go for a mont, then turned and headed toward the forest.

****

Deep in the forest, far from any Academy buildings or training facilities, Damian had found a small clearing surrounded by ancient trees.

He’d removed his jacket and shirt, leaving his torso bare, allowing freedom of movent.

His muscles were clearly defined from months of brutal training, various scars marking his skin from countless fights and hunts.

The massive axe rested in his hands, feeling more natural than ever before.

He took his stance and began practicing.

Each swing was deliberate, focused, carrying absolute conviction behind it.

The axe whistled through the air, that distinctive sound from the circular hole creating an eerie lody.

Thunk.

The blade bit into a nearby tree trunk, sinking deep into the wood with minimal effort.

Damian pulled it free and swung again.

And again.

Each strike carried the sa weight of intent: This is the only strike I need... This will end my enemy.

He’d been practicing for perhaps twenty minutes when a familiar presence made itself known.

"Your form has improved considerably since the last ti I watched you train."

Headmaster Kaiser stepped out from behind a massive oak tree as if he’d always been standing there.

His long white hair and beard were tied in their usual knots, his muscular fra sohow looking both ancient and powerful simultaneously.

Damian lowered his axe and nodded respectfully.

"Master, I wasn’t expecting you."

"I make it a habit to observe my disciples when they practice. Especially after they nearly kill Imperial heirs in front of the entire Academy."

Kaiser’s tone was neutral, impossible to read.

"That was quite the display. Using Abyssal Slaughter’s first principle to shatter that boy’s sword and nearly bisect him in one motion. Very effective and brutal. Exactly what the art is designed for."

He walked closer, his eyes examining Damian’s stance critically.

"But I noticed sothing during that strike. A fundantal misunderstanding that will get you killed if you face truly powerful enemies."

Damian’s attention sharpened imdiately.

"What did I do wrong?"

"It’s not what you did wrong. It’s what you believe about the art itself."

Kaiser gestured for Damian to take his stance again.

"Show . Strike that tree as you would an enemy. Use the full conviction of Abyssal Slaughter."

Damian positioned himself, channeling his Aura and intent into the weapon.

Then... axe ca down with devastating force.

BOOM.

The tree didn’t just get cut. The entire trunk exploded from the impact point, wood and bark flying in all directions.

The massive tree toppled slowly, crashing to the forest floor with a thunderous sound.

Kaiser nodded slowly.

"Good power, intent and execution. Now tell , what would you do if that strike failed to kill your opponent? If they survived sohow, either through superior defense or simply being too strong for one attack to finish?"

Damian opened his mouth to answer, then paused.

The question had never really occurred to him before.

The entire principle of Abyssal Slaughter was absolute conviction that one strike would end the fight.

"And this is a misunderstanding which every student of mine has. The one that kills most students who attempt to learn this art."

Kaiser’s expression beca deadly serious.

"Listen carefully, because I’m only explaining this once. Abyssal Slaughter requires you to believe that each strike is the only one you need. That single attack will end your enemy. That conviction, that absolute certainty, is what gives the art its devastating power."

He held up one finger.

"But that does not an you can only strike once. Do you understand the difference?"

Damian frowned, thinking it through.

"The belief needs to be present in every attack, not just the first one?"

"Exactly!"

Kaiser’s voice carried satisfaction at Damian’s quick understanding.

"Too many students misunderstand this fundantal concept. They think Abyssal Slaughter ans you only ever throw one strike and then you’re done, regardless of the outco.

So when they face an enemy strong enough to survive that first attack, they freeze. They don’t know what to do next because their understanding of the art was flawed from the beginning."

He walked around Damian in a slow circle.

"The truth is far more nuanced and far more dangerous. Each strike you make must carry the absolute conviction that this specific attack will kill your opponent.

Not ’this might hurt them’ or ’this will weaken them’ or ’this is one of many strikes needed.’ No. Every single attack must carry the weight of finality. This strike ends the fight. This strike takes the life. This strike... is all that’s required."

Kaiser stopped directly in front of Damian.

"But if your enemy survives that strike through whatever ans, you don’t hesitate. You don’t doubt and don’t question the art. You simply strike again with the exact sa conviction. And again. And again. Each ti believing with your entire being that this new strike is the killing blow."

Understanding dawned in Damian’s eyes.

"So it’s not about literally only striking once. It’s about the ntality behind every strike I make."

"Precisely. The art is called Abyssal Slaughter, not Abyssal Single Strike. Slaughter implies multiple kills, multiple attacks, continuous devastation."

Kaiser picked up a large branch from the ground.

"When I developed this technique over a century ago, I watched how the most efficient killers operated. Not the flashy warriors who danced around their opponents.

Not the technical masters who relied on complex combinations. I watched the ones who survived the longest on the battlefields."

His eyes grew distant, rembering.

"They all had one thing in common. Every attack they made was committed fully. There was no hesitation, no testing strikes, no probing defenses. Each movent was designed to kill imdiately.

And when it didn’t work, when the enemy proved tougher than expected, they didn’t waste ti being shocked or recalculating. They just attacked again with the sa lethal intent."

He snapped the branch effortlessly.

"That’s the essence of Abyssal Slaughter. Continuous, unrelenting, absolutely committed attacks.

Each one carrying the weight of certain death. String enough of these strikes together, and even the strongest enemy will eventually fall because they cannot maintain perfect defense against soone who genuinely believes every single attack will be their last mont alive."

Damian absorbed this, his mind working through the implications.

"So when I fought Victor, if he’d sohow survived that strike..."

"You should have imdiately followed up with another attack carrying the exact sa conviction, without any doubt or surprise that the first one failed. That’s what separates masters of this art from students who rely learned the basics."

Kaiser gestured at the destroyed tree.

"Now, let’s move on to the next principle you need to understand. You’ve mastered the foundational concept of belief and intent. You’ve achieved the state of lifting heavy as if it were light, allowing your weapon to move with both power and speed. These are good and necessary things to learn, but insufficient for true mastery."

He pointed at Damian’s axe.

"The next principle is understanding that your weapon is not separate from your body. It’s not a tool you’re wielding. It’s an extension of your arm, your will, your very existence. When you achieved ’lifting heavy as light,’ you took the first step. Now you need to go further."

Kaiser’s own Aura flared slightly, and suddenly a weapon appeared in his hand – a brutal-looking war axe that made Damian’s weapon look almost refined by comparison.

"Watch carefully."

He took a stance and swung.

The movent was... wrong, sohow. Not in technique but in fundantal nature.

The axe didn’t move through the air like a weapon being swung. It moved like it was an organic part of Kaiser’s body, as natural as extending an arm or taking a step.

There was no separation between man and weapon. They were one unified entity.

BOOM.

Three trees exploded simultaneously from a single swing, the destructive force spreading far beyond where the blade actually touched.

Kaiser lowered his weapon.

"That is the second principle. Unity of self and weapon. When you achieve this, your strikes beco more than just physical attacks enhanced by Aura.

They beco expressions of your very being. And the art responds accordingly, amplifying your power exponentially."

Damian stared at the destruction, trying to understand what he’d just witnessed.

"How do I achieve that state?"

"Ti and Practice. And most importantly, understanding that your axe is not sothing you picked up and learned to use.

It’s sothing that has beco part of your identity. You don’t think about how to move your arm, do you? You just move it. The sa must beco true of your weapon."

Kaiser dismissed his war axe, the weapon vanishing as suddenly as it appeared.

"Start by practicing your forms without thinking about technique. Don’t analyze the movents or consider optimal angles or trajectories. Just let your body and weapon move as one unified expression of intent. The details will handle themselves once you stop interfering with conscious thought."

He turned to leave, then paused.

"And Damian? That display today against the Imperial heir was acceptable. But don’t let it make you arrogant. Victor Cross was weak, soft and overconfident.

You’ll face enemies soon enough who won’t shatter so easily. When that ti cos, rember what I taught you today. One strike to end them. And if that doesn’t work? Another strike with the sa conviction. And another. Until they fall or you do.

Rember, I’m not training you to fight humans. I’m training you to fight Monsters! And in order to fight Monsters... you need to beco one yourself."

The old man walked away, disappearing into the forest depths.

Damian stood alone in the clearing, his axe feeling sohow different in his hands now.

Heavier, lighter, more natural and more foreign.

All at once.

He took his stance and began practicing again, this ti trying to stop thinking about the chanics and just let himself move.

’The weapon is . I am the weapon. We are one.’

The axe whistled through the air.

And sowhere deep in his mind, understanding began to take root.