Satoshi exploded toward Kyouka in a wild, reckless dash, his movement so sudden and savage it felt like the air itself tore apart around him.
The speed was insane.
He was almost impossible to follow, like a blur that danced on the edge of her vision.
But Kyouka didn't just stand there without a plan.
Because for her, facing someone who fought without control—throwing themselves forward in pure, unhinged aggression—was something she could handle. It gave her more to read as well as more mistakes to catch and more moments to punish.
It wasn't some innate demon ability.
It was a skill that was honed over years of blood, sweat, and survival with her gaze sharpened to see flaws where others would see chaos. And if she could find that single moment—that thin, invisible string that connected her strike to her opponent's fall—she could end it.
