The battlefield stretched before them, tense and silent except for the faint rustle of dust and debris. Mokoto and Saito locked eyes, each measuring the other with razor-sharp focus.
From above, Haruko watched anxiously, sweat dripping from his brow. He swallowed hard. "Okay… Mokoto's bleeding. That's a bad sign."
"And the fight's only just started," Miwafe added, panic rising in her voice. Steam practically rose from Yana's head as her stress bubbled over. "This guy… this guy is trouble!"
"Okay, you guys should calm down. Don't freak out," Rin yelled at her, pointing an accusing finger.
"You're the only one freaking out here!" Yana shot back, her voice high and panicked.
Takumi sighed, leaning back with a calm composure. "You all need to calm down. Seriously… don't freak out."
Ninda turned to him, curiosity in her eyes. "Takumi… what about your talent?"
He blinked in mild confusion. "My… talent?"
"You said you can tell someone's ability just by looking at them," Ninda explained. "So… what about Saito? Can you tell what he's capable of?"
The others began murmuring among themselves, slowly realizing the weight of her question.
Takumi exhaled, leaning slightly forward. "Okay… listen. It activates on its own. I don't control it. My ability is Electric Wipe, not detection—but this is a little bonus. It triggers the instant I see someone for the first time, trying to read their ability. And Saito…" He shook his head. "Nothing. Just… thick white steam. Dense, suffocating. I can't read him at all."
Raito's eyes widened. "No way… that's Standz pressure, isn't it? How can you see that?"
Takumi's gaze hardened. "I could try to probe deeper with my Standz pressure to search for answers, but I would be dead instantly. Same goes for the other six. Their pressures… I can't touch them."
Rin's jaw dropped. "All of them too?"
"Yes," Takumi confirmed. "Every member of the Seven. I can't get a read. No clue why."
Raito thought aloud. "Maybe it's because you haven't encountered anyone with pressure like that before. Country level is impressive, sure… but galaxy level? Their true abilities could be hidden in that cloud of pressure."
Silence fell, and all eyes returned to the battlefield.
Mokoto breathed heavily, refusing to break eye contact with Saito. He's faster than me, hits harder than anything I've endured. I can't dodge him outright. I have to read his moves… predict them. This bastard thinks he can insult me by fighting without using his abilities. Fine. I'll push him to the limit. Mokoto smiled faintly, eyes sharp.
Saito tilted his head, analyzing Mokoto carefully. Why isn't he attacking? I gave him the hint—I'm relying purely on hand-to-hand. Didn't that get through? Fine… I'll have to start again.
Before Mokoto could react, a kick slammed into his face, sending him sprawling. He landed on his feet, blinking in confusion. When did he…?
Saito was already behind him, fists flying. Mokoto tried to turn to catch one, but a punch connected with his gut, hurling him backward. Blood dribbled down his chin as he struggled to regain balance. Saito's brow furrowed in surprise. Why hasn't he dropped?
Attacks continued relentlessly. Mokoto blocked some, but most slammed into him with bone-crunching force, eliciting gasps from those watching.
From afar, the other members of the Seven exchanged glances.
"Is it just me, or does something feel off here?" Akari asked, confusion clear in his tone.
Hina raised an eyebrow. "Yes… Mokoto has no Standz at all. Not even the minimal pressure most people have. And yet he's alive. How is he moving at this speed?"
Ryūjin's brow furrowed. "His endurance… I thought he would be down after one hit from Saito. But he's still standing. No matter how much punishment he takes, he refuses to fall. It's infuriating."
Haruka sighed, dead-eyed. "Standz-less but active… thinking about this hurts my brain. Can I just go home now?"
Hina pouted at him. "Come on, show some spirit. You look better when you cheer."
Haruka adjusted his posture reluctantly. "I mean… if you say so."
Renzo laughed. "Damn, that Mokoto guy is tough. After Saito, I'm up next."
"No way. I'm fighting him next. Get to the back of the line, kid," Ryūjin growled.
"Don't call me a kid! If you fight Mokoto first, you'll kill him—and then what am I supposed to do?" Renzo snapped.
"That's your problem, not mine," Ryūjin said coldly.
"Enough! No fighting among ourselves. That's a rule. Don't destroy the city because of your egos," Akari interjected sharply.
He turned to Hotaru, noticing her fixed gaze on the fight. "Is something the matter, Lady Hotaru?"
She didn't blink. "Something doesn't sit right," she said quietly.
Hina smirked. "Finally, she's not lecturing with her science nonsense. I wonder how long it will last."
Hotaru adjusted her glasses. "Mokoto… he's growing at an astonishing rate."
"Wait… what do you mean?" Akari asked.
"If you watch closely," Hotaru explained, "he's not just fighting. He's learning. Every strike, every move, he internalizes. And now… he's applying what he's learned."
Back on the battlefield, Saito's fist connected squarely with Mokoto's face. The impact pushed him back, yet he remained upright, blood flowing freely.
Saito frowned. "No matter where or how I hit you… you just keep standing. Either you're insanely tough, or you don't know when to quit."
Mokoto closed his eyes, breathing deliberately. He muttered under his breath, almost inaudibly: "6… 7… 5… 9…"
Saito charged another punch at Mokoto's face.
With eyes still closed, Mokoto leaned backward, dodging each strike in perfect sequence. His timing was impeccable. The Seven, the teammates, everyone watching froze in disbelief.
Finally, Mokoto's fist connected with Saito's jaw. The impact shifted Saito slightly, though he barely felt the pain. His eyes gleamed with amusement.
"Now this… this is getting interesting," Saito said with a smile. "I was starting to get bored, but now—now it's about to get exciting."
The battlefield vibrated with tension. Mokoto, bleeding and battered, had survived Saito's relentless assault and struck back, dodging and countering with astonishing precision. Even the most experienced observers could not deny it: Mokoto was learning, adapting, evolving in real time.