Shen Wulong still stood atop the car, touching the back of his head in surprise—his ponytail was gone.
In that instant, he'd read Gusion's move, calmly ducked, and dodged that beheading slash. But his hair, lagging behind, was cut off.
He wasn't surprised about his hairstyle but about his reaction. He'd wanted to block the sword with his fingers using logic, but at the last second, he instinctively dodged.
"Interesting. The last person who could hurt me was Long Yi, right...?" Shen Wulong mused, touching his shoulder as if recalling a shot from 80 years ago.
Gusion tilted his head, flashing his white teeth. "Shen Wulong, why did you dodge?"
"Yeah, why did I dodge?" Shen Wulong wondered, looking at Gusion as if enlightened. "Oh—you're strong. After all, you killed Xia Yan."
"Logic is just superior technique—those who can't hurt you just endlessly imagine your strength," Gusion said, sheathing his sword and lowering his stance. "But to me, your technique isn't flawless."
"Not bad. You might be the strongest opponent I've met in ten thousand years."
Shen Wulong finally took the fight seriously. Through endless years, he'd grown bored, splitting himself into two just to find a worthy opponent.
But would that really cure his boredom?
Why did he want an equal opponent anyway?
"You seem to enjoy fighting strong opponents. But time is cruel..." Gusion said. "It's stripped you of your humanity—even your original purpose."
The next instant, both moved at once.
They met in midair—purple-black sword flashes and fists and feet clashed. Landing, they traded blows across tens of meters, wind pressure bowing the flames and missed attacks shattering cars and buildings.
When they separated, Gusion's sword was bloodied, and his shirt was torn, bearing Shen Wulong's fist marks.
"Shen Wulong! What are you doing!? This isn't your real strength!?"
On the rooftop, the Devourer roared in disbelief. Gusion could fight Shen Wulong to a standstill!
In their brief clash, Gusion had cut off Shen Wulong's ponytail and wounded his arm!
"Shut up," Shen Wulong growled, not looking at the rooftop, but locking eyes on Gusion. For once, those ancient eyes showed emotion.
Like a stone tossed into a still pond, ripples grew into waves.
He felt his blood heat up. Some emotion surged—something he hadn't felt in millennia.
That nameless, surging feeling made him forget revenge, forget his pact with the Devourer—he just wanted to face the man before him.
"Oh, almost forgot—there's an audience. Why don't you wait for death in the VIP section?" Gusion glanced up at the Devourer, his gaze cold and indifferent.
"Shen Wulong is the strongest—you think you'll survive today!?" the Devourer sneered, never imagining that a first-rank Adjudicator could match Shen Wulong.
If Gusion could even trade blows with him, wasn't his combat mastery at a grandmaster level!?
But Gusion ignored him, now focused solely on Shen Wulong.
Shen Wulong's aura changed, growing even deeper and more aggressive.
In the initial exchanges, Gusion had felt Shen Wulong wasn't as strong as expected—if he'd gone all-out from the first strike, he might have killed him.
But he missed that chance. So be it.
"Raian, you're not dead, are you? Keep an eye on that guy—don't let him escape," Gusion said, body tensed, gaze locked on Shen Wulong. He couldn't afford a single mistake now.
"Hah? Who are you to order me!? Watch him? I'm going to tear him apart!"
Raian crawled from the rubble, bloodthirsty eyes fixed on the rooftop Devourer.
Gusion didn't bother arguing. He and Shen Wulong's auras were locked. The street was cleared; they could fight without restraint.
He didn't know exactly how Shen Wulong was in the original, but he was sure the one before him had an immortal physique.
Such muscle gave Shen Wulong both strength and speed, letting him dodge that first strike.
Technique has limits. Against Gusion's overwhelming slash, if Shen Wulong hadn't dodged at high speed, he'd have been beheaded.
Logic isn't omnipotent. Without the physical foundation, you can't dodge what you can't dodge, can't block what you can't block.
From their brief clash, Gusion had to admit: Shen Wulong's skill, honed over ten thousand years, might even surpass Bleach's Yamamoto—an insane level.
Time's power is immense. Yamamoto's skill isn't just talent, but millennia of refinement. Shen Wulong, having lived even longer, is simply on another level—his logic is that skill.
So in the original plot, Gusion foresees that even if Ohma and others grow, they'll never surpass Shen Wulong—the gap created by time is too great.
Gusion, too, is suppressed in pure combat mastery. Against Yamamoto, he could find counterattacks—but if he and Shen Wulong had equal stats, he'd be utterly dominated.
But there are no "ifs." The reality is: in his Shikai state, his physique outclasses Shen Wulong!
As he advanced, Gusion's aura surged again.
Purple-black demonic patterns spread over his body like vines. Muscles swelled, his shirt exploded, his heart rate hit 300 bpm, and the world slowed—endless power flooded his body.
The heat on his skin vaporized his sweat. Blood-red steam and purple mist from Mazuko wrapped around him.
At that moment, Gusion was like a demon, a god, an asura.
[Secret Technique: Demon God!]
Strength and Agility +5!
At this moment, Gusion's Strength was 28, Agility 27, and Physique—after those medicinal baths—had risen to 25.
This burst state isn't dangerously unbalanced. It's his own technique, combining Possessing Spirit, Removal, and Fallen Demon—not only a leap in stats but with decent endurance.
Currently, he can fight over ten minutes like this—not as explosive as Fei Wangfang.
Gusion's expression was wild as he looked at Shen Wulong.
You can leverage a thousand pounds with four ounces—but what about ten thousand, a hundred thousand?
You have the beauty of technique.
I have the beauty of numbers.
Come—let's put an end to this world!