Inside the smelting plant, the air was freezing, thick with the stench of rust and iron.
Changsu didn't waste words. Dust rose up beneath his feet as he blurred forward. Two industrial steel rods whistled through the air, swinging down from both sides like a closing trap.
CLANG!
Seongji threw up his left forearm to take the brunt of it. The iron rods slammed into his skin with the heavy ring of metal striking metal. His arm reddened, but his frame didn't buckle.
Changsu was too fast. The moment the strike failed, he snapped his wrists, sliding the rods down Seongji's arm to lunge straight for his throat.
Seongji tilted his head. The cold iron grazed his neck, leaving a searing trail of heat in its wake.
'He's fast. This guy is on a completely different level than the others.'
Changsu snapped his wrists with a violent jerk.
The two heavy steel rods seemed to come alive in his hands. They were no longer blunt clubs being swung blindly; they had transformed into a pair of reaper's scalpels.
SHING!
Changsu lunged. The rod in his right hand used the momentum to slash horizontally, aiming straight for Seongji's Adam's apple. Seongji leaned his head back, the rusted iron whistling past, barely a hair's breadth from his skin. Before he could even reset his stance, the rod in Changsu's left hand shot out like a viper from a hole, thrusting without warning toward his heart.
Seongji twisted his body to the side.
BANG!
The rod missed, slamming deep into a concrete pillar. Changsu didn't skip a beat; he used the impact to pivot his arm, spinning the rod in a bizarre arc that sent the tip whipping upward toward Seongji's eyes.
Seongji retreated, his feet blurring as they backpedaled across the floor.
Changsu's assault didn't pause for a single breath. Flick, parry, smear, thrust—his movements were terrifyingly fast, each strike as precise as a surgeon performing a live dissection. Every time Seongji dodged, the floor or wall behind him disintegrated a split second later.
BOOM! BOOM!
The iron bars hammered the ground, sending shards of stone flying like shrapnel in every direction.
WHOOSH—
Changsu's rod swept in a wide arc. Seongji ducked, feeling nothing but a gale of sharp wind against his ears. The rusted bar left a visible white streak in the air, snapping a nearby water pipe clean in half.
'Not over yet!'
Changsu's silhouette seemed to merge with the steel. His relentless offensive formed a suffocating iron web, trapping Seongji completely within its reach.
"Clang! Clang! Clang!"
Seongji parried three strikes with his palms in a rapid-fire blur. But on the fourth, Changsu dropped low. One rod swept at Seongji's ankles while the other surged upward, targeting his chest.
Seongji leaped.
In that split second of mid-air vulnerability, Changsu's eyes flashed.
Checkmate.
The rods crossed in the air like a pair of giant shears, cutting off every possible landing angle.
Seongji forced a shift in his center of gravity. A heartbeat before the trap shut, he slammed both feet onto the intersection of the rods.
CRACK!
The floor beneath them caved in from the force. Seongji lunged forward, his six-fingered hand locking onto one of the steel bars.
SCREEEEE—
Under the crushing grip of those fingers, the solid industrial steel began to twist and warp like wet clay.
"What is this strength...?" Changsu's pupils shrank.
He let go of the ruined rod and lunged into Seongji's guard. SMACK! Changsu's palm slammed into Seongji's chin. In that fraction of a second, a blade slid from Changsu's sleeve into his palm.
He didn't grip it with his fist; he held it with his fingertips like a scalpel.
SLICE!
The moment Seongji's head snapped back, the blade opened a gash across his stomach. Changsu's wrist flicked like a viper's head, spinning the knife as he pulled back to carve another streak of red under Seongji's ribs.
Seongji didn't even flinch. He reached out and clamped his hand around Changsu's wrist.
"Got you."
Seongji pivoted his hips. His left hand slid from the wrist to Changsu's hipbone, his fingers digging into the muscle like iron hooks. He hoisted the King of Jeolla-Do over his head and slammed him backward.
BOOM!
The shoulder throw hammered Changsu into a pile of discarded iron racks. The metal shrieked and groaned as the King was buried under the twisted scrap.
A long silence followed before Changsu crawled out of the wreckage, coughing up a mouthful of thick blood.
"You really are a monster," Changsu whispered, a manic grin spreading across his face.
He rushed again. This time, his movements were erratic, circling low like a crow in a storm. Seongji raised his arms to block, but Changsu vanished from his line of sight.
STAB!
The knife bit into the back of Seongji's calf.
Seongji spun to throw a punch, but Changsu glided along Seongji's arm, precision-stabbing the elbow joint as he passed.
Changsu's wrist flicked with blinding speed, the small blade spinning into a blur between his fingertips.
"Not done yet, Six King."
Changsu stayed low to the ground, his body coiling and twisting like he had no bones. The moment Seongji raised his arm to defend, the edge of Changsu's blade was already silently pressing against his forearm.
CHIII—
The tip of the knife delicately peeled back the sleeve, sliding deep along the grain of the muscle. Seongji's skin parted like paper. Raw, crimson flesh curled outward, and before the first beads of blood could even spray, Changsu had already flicked past him.
Seongji swung a backhand grab, but his fingers closed on empty air.
Changsu reversed his grip on the knife and twisted his hips, dragging the blade across the side of Seongji's thigh in one long, jagged red streak.
SPLAT!
The wound wasn't fatal, but it was horrifyingly deep. With every step Seongji took, the gash pulsed, spraying a fine mist of blood as the muscle contracted.
'He's systematically peeling away my motor functions.'
Changsu moved like he was working on a piece of fine art. He circled Seongji at high speed, and with every pass, the dull sound of steel carving through meat echoed through the plant.
SLASH! SLASH! SLASH!
Seongji's shoulder was sliced open at a diagonal, the flap of skin hanging precariously off the bone. Next came the palm; Changsu's blade-point bit precisely into the gap of Seongji's closing fist, jerking backward to rip a wide crater into the edge of his hand.
Blood sprayed incessantly, blooming into a series of garish crimson flowers across the cold concrete floor. Seongji's once-neat clothes were now a tattered mess of soaked rags, the fabric clinging stickily to the ever-growing tally of wounds.
Changsu came to a halt a short distance away. He ran the tip of his tongue along the blood coating his blade, a chilling madness dancing in his eyes.
"Can you feel it?" Changsu whispered. "Your blood is getting cold."
Seongji took a deep breath. He lowered his center of gravity, every ounce of his power coiling into his right fist. The air around him seemed to vibrate, unable to contain the pressure.
Changsu saw the opening when Seongji exhaled. He lunged for the left eye.
Seongji didn't dodge.
He let the knife sink into his shoulder, using his tensed muscles to trap the blade like a vice. Changsu tried to yank it back, but the knife was stuck as if it had grown into stone.
At the same time, Seongji's right fist exploded forward.
Destructive Force.
The fist connected with Changsu's chest.
THUD.
It wasn't the sound of a punch; it was the sound of a demolition ball hitting a brick wall. A visible shockwave rippled through the air, shattering the last few intact windows in the plant.
Changsu didn't even have time to scream. He was launched like a cannonball, smashing through the back brick wall and tumbling into the dirt outside. He didn't move again.
Seongji stood alone in the center of the dust-filled crater. He pulled the knife from his shoulder and tossed it aside.
"I told you," Seongji muttered into the hollow silence. "I am a predator."