Z-City had turned into a live arena.
Crowds packed the streets, drawn by a fight that sounded too unreal to miss: Bang, the silver-haired martial arts master ranked among the top S-Class heroes, versus a newly risen "hero hunter" who had already killed one of their own.
High-level battles usually happened out of sight, against monsters no camera could safely follow. But this time, both fighters were human. That illusion of familiarity gave people a dangerous kind of courage.
They stayed.
Reporters edged closer with their equipment. Spectators leaned in, eyes bright and feverish, like gamblers watching the wheel spin toward something catastrophic.
Noah Vale stood in the middle of it all, glancing around at the crowd with thinly veiled disbelief.
Something was off about this world.
People treated these fights like spectacles, not disasters. Even the police, somewhere deep down, seemed to believe a handgun could solve problems like this.
It was like watching moths line up politely in front of a flamethrower.
Bang, on the other hand, hesitated.
His stance tightened, his rising aura faltering as he took in the sea of civilians. If he misjudged even slightly, the shockwaves alone could turn this entire block into a graveyard.
Noah noticed.
"You worried about them?" he said, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Relax. I'll keep everything contained. Not a drop of power leaks out."
He tilted his head, almost inviting.
"So go on. Take your shot."
Bang didn't answer.
From his perspective, Noah was the one who would lose. And the words of a losing opponent weren't worth trusting.
The hesitation stretched just a moment too long.
Noah's expression cooled.
"I already made a concession," he said flatly. "Don't waste it."
His foot came down.
The world cracked.
The ground fractured outward in a violent web, then dropped. Within seconds, everything in a kilometer radius sank nearly ten meters, as if the earth itself had exhaled and collapsed.
Screams tore through the air.
People fell with the sinking terrain, bodies tumbling, bones snapping, panic spreading faster than gravity could pull them down. Those who tried to climb out found smooth, sheer walls waiting for them. No grip. No escape.
From the center of the newly formed crater, Noah's voice cut through the chaos, calm again.
"They've been buzzing in my ears this whole time," he said. "It's distracting."
His gaze shifted back to Bang.
"If you don't stop me soon… who knows what happens next."
Bang's jaw tightened.
This wasn't just another opponent.
Even Garou, his former student, hadn't felt this unstable. This man was worse. Unpredictable. Capable of anything.
There was no room left for restraint.
Bang exhaled.
Then the air changed.
A surge of pressure rolled outward from him, heavy enough to make the ground tremble despite Noah's control over the area. His aged frame seemed to come alive, muscles tightening, coiling with explosive force.
Noah blinked.
So this is martial arts? he thought. Feels more like something out of a myth.
Bang moved.
One step.
The ground shuddered.
Then he vanished.
He reappeared in front of Noah like space had folded, fingers aligned into a blade, driving upward toward Noah's jaw.
Noah barely registered the motion.
Too fast…
Impact.
The strike landed cleanly.
Pain, sharp and unfamiliar, rippled through Noah's body. The force dispersed across him, vibrating down to the cellular level, like every atom had been rattled awake.
Interesting.
Suspended midair from the blow, Noah's mind accelerated, dissecting the technique behind it.
Not just skill… something layered on top of it.
Bang didn't pause.
His attacks came in a relentless stream. Each strike thundered into Noah, each collision sinking the ground beneath them by fractions, the accumulated force reshaping the battlefield with every exchange.
To anyone watching, it looked overwhelming.
But it wasn't enough.
Each blow damaged Noah's body slightly… and then the damage vanished just as quickly. Regeneration erased the buildup before it could matter.
Noah observed, calm beneath the barrage.
Fast. Precise. But there's a gap between each strike.
In a real fight, that gap was fatal.
If I wanted to, he'd be dead before his second move.
The thought wasn't arrogance. It was a conclusion.
So technique alone can't bridge the gap, Noah decided.
Time stretched.
In less than a blink, after dozens of strikes—
I get it now.
Noah moved.
His hand rose.
Bang's pupils shrank as he recognized the stance.
It was his own.
Crude. Incomplete. But unmistakable.
Their hands collided midair.
The shockwave blasted both of them backward, carving through the air like a thunderclap.
Noah landed lightly, eyes drifting to his hand.
So it's a fusion… technique and intent, he thought. And I only used about sixty percent to stop him.
Across from him, Bang's thoughts were anything but calm.
That was the Flowing Water technique…
Rough, yes. But undeniably the same foundation.
And he had learned it in an instant.
A chill ran through Bang.
Garou had talent. But this… this is something else entirely.
If Noah was allowed to grow, the consequences would be catastrophic.
Bang's gaze hardened.
He made his decision.
He would end this here.
Noah smiled, as if reading the shift.
"Thinking about me?" he said casually. "Good. Because round two's starting."
He stepped forward.
The distance between them vanished.
His fist came forward, carrying that same strange, fluid power—
—but now, it was his.