There was one thing Na was genuinely relieved about, his opponent was still standing. Despite the overwhelming cheers, the tense atmosphere, and the throbbing ache in his knuckles, that single fact was enough to keep Na grounded. Hurting soone from the Gilt Rats, even accidentally, could spiral into consequences far beyond this cage. The Billion Bloodline group already had enough problems with the Black Hounds. The last thing Max needed was for Na to spark a second war with soone even higher-ranked.
Yet even with that fear gnawing at him, Na stared at Evon in disbelief.
How is he still okay? How did that punch not break him?
My fist... it’s stinging. Did I hit tal? Is he wearing armour under that jacket?
Na flexed his fingers subtly. His knuckles weren’t damaged, but the sensation was undeniable. There had been resistance, hard resistance, not like striking flesh or bone. If Evon really had sothing chanical reinforcing him, that would explain a lot. But it also ant Na needed to tread even more carefully.
He reminded himself that the body of a superhuman had to be able to withstand its own strength. If soone like him could shatter concrete, their bones needed to be durable enough not to break from the recoil. Still, tal was tal. And hitting it at full speed stung.
Evon, however, looked invigorated. His eyes brightened with an almost childlike excitent.
"Alright," Evon said, lowering his stance. "Looks like I’m going to need to try sothing."
He rushed in again, adopting the sa pattern as before, kicks thrown in sharp arcs, subtle openings appearing like shifting shadows around his form. Na recognized so of the setups, but the timing felt different. The rhythm of the fight was changing.
This ti, when Na launched a compact punch toward Evon’s side, Evon did not dodge.
Instead, he lifted his hand and reached out.
Na felt his wrist halt abruptly.
Evon had grabbed his fist in mid-punch.
A faint chanical whir vibrated from Evon’s arm, barely audible, but unmistakable. He had activated sothing beneath the leather jacket.
With a twist, Evon flung Na’s arm away effortlessly.
"No," Evon said sharply. "This isn’t it!"
His tone carried a frustration that bordered on offended.
"You’re holding back! This punch isn’t anywhere near as hard as the last one. Do you really need to hurt you just to get you to strike at full force?"
Evon stepped in as he spoke, driving a punch toward Na’s side. Na raised his forearm to block, as he had done countless tis. Normally, that was enough; his body was sturdy, and his guard solid.
But this ti was different.
The mont Evon’s fist connected, a jolt of pain ripped through Na’s entire arm. His muscles seized, his nerves scread, and a sharp numbness followed along his forearm. He was forced to take a step sideways, unable to hold his ground.
For the first ti in the match, Na felt fear.
That power... that was unnatural.
How is he hitting that hard? Such force shouldn’t co from soone his size. When I hit him, it felt like tal. And now this... sothing is definitely wrong.
Evon smiled wider, clearly enjoying Na’s reaction.
"Co on!" Evon taunted. "Hit . Use everything you’ve got. I won’t die, is that what you’re worried about?"
The way he said it, the casualness of it, made Na’s heart tighten. Evon was hinting that he knew. He knew Na was holding back. He knew Na wasn’t an ordinary human. And that made the risk even greater. But if Evon could withstand it, and if doing so would help Max earn the money they desperately needed, then Na had no reason to hesitate.
He decided to take the risk.
Na moved in, planting one firm step forward. With his weight shifted and montum winding upward through his torso, he launched a rising punch toward Evon’s stomach, a controlled but powerful blow delivered from below.
Evon braced. His hand shot out, fingers snapping tightly around Na’s fist. Again, the faint chanical hum vibrated in his palm as the exoskeleton absorbed and redirected the force.
Na watched in disbelief as Evon successfully pushed the punch back. Evon’s grin spread even further across his face.
"I knew it," Evon said. "I knew you had sothing in you. You’re not normal."
The punch had been blocked, but Na’s instincts refused to stop. He didn’t need to understand how Evon was resisting his blows, he just knew he needed to keep attacking. That was the only way to drive the fight forward.
He threw a heavy downward punch from above. Evon’s arm shot up and knocked it away with practiced ease. Evon countered instantly, lifting a leg and driving a kick directly to Na’s stomach. The strike landed cleanly, but Na barely budged.
His body absorbed it without issue.
That gave Na the small window he needed. He stepped in and ramd his shoulder into Evon’s chest. The impact sent Evon skidding backwards. His feet lifted off the mat, and he landed harshly, sliding several feet across the floor.
He tried to rise quickly, but Na had already advanced. Na’s foot lifted, ready to hamr down into Evon’s face.
But Evon reacted faster.
He snapped both hands up and knocked Na’s leg aside. Then he lunged forward, driving a rapid pair of punches into Na’s abdon. The strikes blurred, faster, sharper, more precise than before. Na grit his teeth as the impacts hamred into him. He felt the urge to double over, but forced himself to stay upright.
He pulled his torso back slightly and launched a hook. Evon caught it with his palm and retaliated instantly, a tight punch slamming into Na’s cheek. Blood sprayed from Na’s nose.
Evon exhaled lightly.
"You’re really making bring out everything I’ve got," he said. "It seems we’re different."
His voice lowered, almost analytical, almost impressed.
"Because you’re special, your entire body is special. All of you, your punches, your kicks, your durability, they’re all enhanced."
Evon straightened his posture, stepping forward with slow confidence.
"But ? I’m only enhanced in one area." He lifted his hands. "My arms."
Evon flicked his wrist, and the subtle chanical framing beneath the jacket shifted.
"Unfortunately for you, " he stepped in again, creating another trap ", my arms are exactly where all my strength, speed, and technique are concentrated."
Na barely had ti to react when Evon parried his next jab and snapped a punch directly into his face. The strike landed with surgical precision, and a fresh burst of blood scattered through the air.
"I don’t just have strength," Evon said calmly. "I have speed. And I have my fighting style."
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