Manhattan City.
Silence.
The battlefield, which moments ago had been filled with thunder, screams, and chaos, was suddenly silent as death.
Every gaze was fixed upon a single point in the air.
Rosewood's head—once belonging to the invincible First Chairman—had just been severed and cast high into the sky.
It could not be.
It should not be.
Yet the sight was undeniable.
There was no panic, not even shock, only blank disbelief. Expressions froze, eyes went wide, and no one spoke. Because what they saw was beyond their comprehension, beyond what they could accept as reality.
How could this be?
Rosewood, the man whose strength had been infinitely close to the Master Rank, had been killed as easily as chopping a vegetable?
No. Impossible. A bad dream.
Many rubbed their eyes furiously, as though wiping away an illusion. Yet the truth remained.
The severed head fell, bounced once against the blood-soaked earth, and rolled.
