Carter and the swordsman ignited into motion, a blur of steel and reflex. The blade hissed through the air, aimed squarely at Carter's throat. Instead of parrying, Carter dropped into a sudden crouch. Behind him, a massive bank of computer monitors sparked and died, sliced clean in half by the vacuum of the sword's wake.
Seizing the opening, Carter drove a heavy fist toward the man's heart. The swordsman adjusted instantly, snapping the heavy sheath of his blade upward. The blunt wood whistled past Carter's ear as he flipped backward, his boots skidding against the floor.
He barely had time to breathe before the swordsman was on him again. A roundhouse kick slammed into Carter's guard, the impact vibrating through his forearms. While still in mid-air, the swordsman twisted, bringing his blade down in a devastating vertical arc. Carter threw himself to the side; the wall behind him split open with a thunderous crack.
Scrambling up, Carter snatched a heavy office chair and hurled it. It was a futile gesture—the swordsman sliced the furniture into two symmetrical pieces without breaking stride. Carter used the debris as a screen, leaping through the splintered wood to aim a punch at the man's face. The swordsman swung horizontally, a "death-zone" strike meant to bisect Carter at the waist.
But the swordsman had ignored Carter's positioning. Carter snapped his left leg up, kicking the man's wrist mid-swing. The trajectory of the blade jerked upward, whistling harmlessly over Carter's head.
"什么?!" (What?!) the swordsman thought, his eyes widening.
Carter didn't waste the shock. He drove a straight right fist into the swordsman's jaw, slamming him into the floor with enough force to crack the tiles. Using the momentum of the strike, Carter launched himself into the air and came down with a brutal stomp. The floor gave way, and the swordsman crashed through to the level below, his sheath clattering away into the dark.
Carter landed in the wreckage, but a hand shot out from the debris. The swordsman grabbed Carter's ankle and yanked with predatory strength, slamming Carter face-first into the floor before throwing him against a jagged section of the wall. Gritting his teeth against the pain, Carter lashed out with his free leg, catching the swordsman square in the jaw.
The man refused to let go. Carter leaned into the grip, pulling himself toward his opponent to close the distance, and drove his knee deep into the swordsman's face. He spat blood.
"我受够了!" (I've had enough!) the swordsman roared.
He lunged, the tip of his blade a silver needle aimed at Carter's windpipe. Carter arched his neck back, the steel grazing his skin—just enough to draw a thin line of crimson. The swordsman finally released his grip, and Carter vanished into a backflip, creating distance.
The swordsman touched the blood on his blade and grinned like a devil. Carter remained silent, his expression a mask of unnatural calm.
The swordsman blinked. In that fraction of a second, Carter vanished.
A fist exploded against the swordsman's mouth before he could even register the movement.
他什么时候— (When did he—) Carter didn't give him a second to breathe. He unleashed a devastating combo—a rhythmic, blurring barrage of strikes to the man's torso. Ribs cracked. The swordsman coughed a spray of blood, his sword slipping from his numb fingers. As his vision began to fade into black, desperation took over. He grabbed Carter's shirt, hauling him in close to deliver a bone-shattering headbutt. Then another. Carter snarled and struck back with his own forehead. The sound of the collision echoed like a gunshot, and both men recoiled, blood dripping from their brows.
The swordsman staggered, gasping for air, his lungs burning. Carter stood perfectly still, his breathing already leveling out.
"我得承认你很坚强.我从没想过会见到像你这么坚强的人." (I must admit, you're resilient. I never expected to meet someone like you,) the swordsman panted.
Carter narrowed his eyes, his mind racing. Is he stalling?
"我承认你的存在,我会让你见识一下我的真正实力." (I acknowledge your strength. Now, I will show you my true power.) The swordsman's grin returned, wider and more jagged than before.
He closed his eyes. The air in the room grew heavy, charged with a sudden, violent static.
Carter braced himself. Suddenly, the furniture groaned. Screws popped from the walls. Every metallic object in the room began to vibrate and levitate, caught in an invisible tide.
So, Carter thought, his gaze hardening. He's finally using his ability.
Elsewhere
"Okay, I agree. Finian is a tough one," the Seventh Head said, glancing toward the shadows of the neighboring seat. "What are your thoughts, Former Eighth Head?"
William sat there, his chest heaving. "Well, I haven't seen that guy fight in person, so I can't say for sure. I heard you sent a whole squadron after Carter, Finian and Ron."
The Seventh Head nodded smoothly. "Nah, just one man each. I think he will provide a decent fight to Carter, even though they'll eventually lose."
William nodded and asked, "Who you sent?"
"Hardly. The ones I sent aren't even in my top ten."
Near the floor to ceiling window, Rio remained silent, staring out at the city skyline as rain lashed against the glass.
"But why are you so sure the man facing Carter now will lose?" William pressed.
"Because," the Seventh Head smiled, "that man is a rare breed. He possesses an inherited ability: Ferrokinesis. The power to command metal."
"That isn't anything special," William countered. "Common telekinesis covers that."
The Seventh Head's smile sharpened. "I thought the same until I fought him. He surprised me."
William leaned in, listening intently.
"The human body contains trace metals—iron, ions, minerals. He can interfere with basic bodily functions if he gets close enough. But more than that, almost all matter in this modern world contains metallic impurities. If it has even a trace of metal, he can move it."
William nodded, the gravity of the situation sinking in.
"Don't misunderstand," the Seventh Head cautioned. "He can't reshape the metal or change its molecular structure. But he can increase its perceived density and manipulate it with the force of a wrecking ball."
"Truly, Carter is facing a monster." William said.
"The only problem is that he didn't perfected it, that's is why I said he will lose." Seventh Head said.