Demon Lord's Reincarnation

The moment my clenched fist landed on his torso, not only Mikhail, but even I also grimaced from the fucking pain because he looked like he took a hit from a sledgehammer while I looked like I punched through a fucking wall.

I never thought the motherfucker would literally brace from impact the moment he felt the characters of death appear behind his head, and it was an effective way—maybe the only way—to come out of this without dropping unconscious.

If anything, I was glad everyone else was finding measures to fight against me and it would just breed more growth from all of us.

But yeah, as soon as a fifth of a second passed, the same characters of death appeared behind my head as I had the sudden urge to duck down the arms of a fucking Neanderthal. And with Mikhail's size and strength, I'd fucking die with one direct hit—and right on fucking cue, a huge gust of wind fanned my fucking head and back as soon as my ass almost touched the ground.

However, humans were born with two arms, and right as I sprung myself back up, his left fucking arm went for fucking revenge—and all I could do was take the fucking hit while jumping to where it was headed.

"GchK!"

Despite greatly softening the blow, it felt like falling off a parachute and hitting a large branch on the way down—sideways, in this case—but to my fucking surprise, the motherfucker took a wide step back with his right foot before attempting to win by throwing me off the circle.

It's just that the only saving grace was that I was still in the circle if we're talking about the y axis.

And let me fucking tell you, as weird as this next sentence would sound, I never climbed a man so hard but I did just that to finagle my way to his thick frame just so my feet wouldn't touch outside the boundary I made for myself.

"YOU— FUCKING EEL!"

The feeling was like those animatronic bulls where their goal was to throw me off—and while I do have another story for that, I'd just reserve it for another day. Because yeah, it was easy enough not to get thrown off since I had a firm grasp on his clothes and gear, and right as he tried to tackle me again after his rush, I pulled down on his uniform since I still hadn't let go.

Because same with bullets traveling at such speeds, all it'd need was a slight bump to change trajectories and he easily ate dirt for the second time—right as he took another step.

However, Mikhail never gave the fuck up because as my hand was still clutching his clothes, he finally had a solid grasp on my arm—and I could fucking feel his arms tightening around it like a boa constrictor.

It's just that with my free hand I slowly clutched a chunk of his neck—where his carotid artery was—and then lightly squeezed as a threat.

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While we did a few illegal moves—me, mostly—that were accepted since this was more than a spar, what I did was something that's literally fucking lethal and if both of us follow through with it, I'd end up with a broken arm while he'd just bleed out in seconds once I tore that piece of his neck off.

I said with an eerie smile as I still felt the grip on my arm, "It's a tie if we stop now, you know?"

"Fuck, you wouldn't—"

"That's my fapping arm, normie, and this here's your life support. If anything, this is the furthest you went with me, heh."

Mikhail chuckled as he slowly let go, "That is true, heh, I'll still take the loss. Good fight though…"

"Don't want to take the tie?"

"You're bound by the circle, sir, I'm not. Take the win, as always, heh."

"A'ight. You've gotten stronger despite the cut, keep it up."

"For real?"

"Yep."

"Fuck yeah!"

At that point, I just patted the dirt off my clothes with a red mark on my arm while Mikhail did the same thing with the same-ish bruise on his neck. But yeah, while Mikhail was free to rest, the next one in line was fucking Kuzma—and he was definitely rarin' to go at me but he wanted to make use of the eskrima sticks he found.

If anything, I thought that he'd be more comfortable using dual knives but it seemed like he took after Artem's style for a little bit.

I chuckled, "if you're gonna use that, I'm gonna use one of Isaac's bokkens."

"That's the plan, no?"

"Cool. But you're not gonna let me rest for a bit?"

"Heh. Nope! You're wasting time as is!" then he turned to Tatiana, "Come on now! It's my only chance!"

Joe cut in, "Hey! This is my—"

"FIGHT!" Tatiana shouted with a grin.

So yeah, all of a sudden, Kuzma jumped in the air to "open" with me—worst mistake of his life—but even though I could've ended the fight then and there, I decided to take a few moves from him. It's just that the look on his fucking face when I carried his body weight with one arm as I blocked his blow with my katana's scabbard was fucking priceless.

"You—" he exclaimed as he jumped back away from the circle.

"You should've let me pick up the bokken first, you have two more moves."

"Hah?!"

"Just attack!"

"Fuck it!"

Obviously, I can't just have my katana out in the open so it was still sheathed when I used it to block Kuzma's blow, but the thing was, the moment I attacked with it, even though a tad slower, it'd have more weight—and it'd be more advantageous for me since we were using blunt weapons.

But yeah, Kuzma then rushed in with high-low and left-right combinations to take advantage of me just using my katana still in its sheathe—but his fucking mistake was to waste the two moves I have him for a sorry attempt to just hit me instead.

"Try catching it…" I whispered as I wound my katana to the back of my head.

"HAH! BRING IT!"

At that point, I really thought he'd cross his two fucking sticks to block my blow—or if you weren't an idiot, just attack from the opening instead of welcoming my attack with open arms—but yeah, the dumbass blocked the same way I did by putting his sticks together on one horizontal line and waiting for me to swing down with full force.

And yeah, I would've stuck to my guts if this was an exhibition match or a normal spar so I decided to give Kuzma a lesson he'll never forget.

Don't get me wrong, I released copious amounts of killing intent as soon as I swung down but I barely touched his two flimsy sticks with my sheathed katana before it abruptly turned like a jagged thunderbolt which aimed for his temple.

And let me fucking tell you, even if I didn't feel the pain—or everyone else for that matter, we all grimaced from the sound it made when I hit his fucking head and Kuzma was definitely knocked the fuck out. And to add insult to injury, my arms were the only ones sore from the abrupt change-up since the flimsy attacks he did on me earlier had already passed.

So yeah, no one decided to challenge me after that but I still wanted to give away prizes as to who would be able to win three consecutive times while still in the circle instead of me. And of course, the ones who didn't do enough had a fire lit in their asses.

But right as I was back on my fucking seat, my attention was diverted elsewhere when I saw a fucking Dodge Ram with six fucking wheels—yes, six, SIX—Six fucking wheels, armor plating, extended bed, run-flat tires, custom rear and front bumpers, a wide fucking body, and a sick-ass paint job of the devil, even going so far to modify the actual logo.

"Ah, fuck… She's here…" Quinn rolled her eyes as she sighed.

"Who's here?" Kaley asked.

"You'll see."

And the moment the door opened up, death metal just blasted through as if a bomb shelter opened up—but what came out first was this fucking red-haired chick almost as tall as Quinn and a little less muscular. However, with Quinn's musculature, calling someone else less muscular than her was still fucking muscular so whatever I said at first was fucking out of the window.

'Six wheels, the devil, and the #6 tat on her huge-ass tits… That's definitely Lucy. If that's Jordan, I'll fucking eat my shoe.'

And right from the fucking get-go, Lucy was just about to square up with Quinn when her glance landed on me and the grin she wore as she looked down sent shivers down my fucking spine:

"You the guy, right?"

"You must be Lucy—"

She then licked her lips as she leaned over, "Wanna fuck?"