The boy with the scar’s transparent hand plummeted toward him like a crystal dagger, aiming directly for his neck.

  But the boy with the red streak did not retreat... instead, he threw himself backward with sudden, violent force.

  Thud!

  He slammed the back of his head against the hard restaurant floor with deliberate, brutal intent. Sharp pain exploded in his skull, and his vision blurred for a moment, but he felt it... the energy of the collision flowing into his body like a delicious electric current.

  Launch!

  Capitalizing on his body’s recoil from the floor, he sprang up like a compressed spring, dashing toward the nearby concrete wall. He didn't try to brake; he embraced the impact with all his might.

  Craaack!

  Fragments of the wall flew outward, and the ground shook beneath his feet. Dust filled the air, but within the cloud, a smile of manic victory painted his lips. The energy was filled to the brim.

  He spun quickly toward the boy with the scar, who hadn't stopped running. The predator lunged, extending his hand to impale the boy and pin him to the shattered wall.

  But the boy with the red streak was ready and charged. He propelled himself sideways with explosive force, dodging the blow by a miracle.

  The boy with the scar’s hand pierced the concrete wall instead, emitting a high-pitched whistle as it entered due to its sheer speed and sharpness.

  The boy with the scar yanked his hand from the wall. It was no longer transparent and sharp. It had changed. It was now a dark silver, close to grey, with a heavy metallic sheen. It left a clean hole with smooth edges in the wall, as if it were a solid laser, not a mere hand.

  The boy with the scar gritted his teeth while veins bulged on his neck from sheer rage.

  His yellow eyes flicked toward the kitchen for a moment. He needed food to replenish the energy his constant adaptation was consuming, but the kitchen was empty. The staff had fled for their lives the moment the real fighting started.

  "No food..." the boy with the scar muttered.

  In that moment of distraction, the boy with the red streak did not waste time. He launched himself forward to strike, seizing the opportunity.

  The boy with the scar raised his new silver hand, not to block the punch, but to pierce his opponent's head directly and end it.

  But the boy with the red streak didn't aim for the face this time. He targeted the lethal metal hand itself.

  The fist of the boy with the red streak (charged with the energy of his wall collision) met the metallic hand of the boy with the scar.

  Boom!

  A violent shockwave erupted from the point of impact, scattering nearby tables.

  This time, the boy with the scar wasn't physically knocked back, but his hand was knocked forcefully aside. In exchange, the boy with the red streak threw himself backward voluntarily, using the massive recoil force to gain safe distance and prepare for the next round, his hand trembling from the hardness of his opponent's metal.

  The boy with the scar stood his ground, dusting off his silver hand, then looked at his opponent with the gaze of a hungry beast eyeing injured, appetizing prey.

  "Listen... I am really hungry, and you are very annoying," the boy with the scar said in a low, menacing voice, a bit of saliva beginning to drool. "I just hope... your meat is worth all this trouble."

  "Try if you can... my meat is harder than you think!" The boy with the red streak laughed, tightening his fist, his eyes shining with challenge.

  "It’s the first time I’ve fought a human... killed a human... I’ve never eaten one before, but a bite won’t hurt."

  The boy with the scar advanced slowly and picked up a stone from the ground. He opened his mouth, and his teeth rippled, transforming into sharp silver metal before he clamped his jaws shut on the stone, crumbling it as if it were a biscuit.

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  He smiled, revealing his new silver teeth. "Now, little one... what did you say about hard meat?"

  "Were you serious about eating me?" The boy with the red streak raised an eyebrow in mockery.

  The boy with the scar lunged at him with blinding speed. "Did you think we were playing tag?"

  He extended his terrifying hand lightly—not with full force—toward his opponent, trying to test him.

  "But isn't human meat worse than synthetic supplements?" The boy with the red streak said as he dodged the hand, leaping backward and clutching his bleeding right side before letting go.

  The boy with the scar stopped suddenly, as if the question touched a sensitive nerve in his biological instinct. "Too much fat with dense meat..." he muttered, analyzing the matter with terrifying seriousness. "I have the teeth, but digestion requires a stomach with super-acid... strong enzymes to break down protein... calculating the energy gained versus the energy spent."

  The boy with the scar raised his eyes to his opponent coldly. "You... why did you come here in the first place?"

  The boy with the red streak smiled his usual crazy smile and pointed a finger at his opponent. "I want to crush you!"

  "And I want food," the boy with the scar replied flatly.

  "Crushing you comes first!" shouted the boy with the red streak.

  "With that injury?" The boy with the scar pointed to the bleeding wound on his opponent's side.

  "I can crush you even standing on one leg! This scratch means nothing!"

  Boom! The boy with the red streak slammed his elbow hard into the concrete wall beside him, causing a fresh crack and absorbing the collision energy to charge his body for the next round.

  The "boy with the red streak" launched himself like a human projectile, using the wall as a fulcrum. In response, the "boy with the scar" planted his feet in the ground, opened his hand, grabbed the boy's shirt, and threw him away.

  The boy with the red streak slammed into the wall hard, then charged himself to rush again toward the boy with the scar. His opponent repeated the same method, grabbing his shirt, but the boy with the red streak used the same trick: a white light exploded from his chest. However, a semi-opaque transparent film appeared over the eyes of the boy with the scar the moment the light flashed... while his yellow eyes suddenly gained a dark depth, and he completed the throw, hurling the boy away with force.

  "I told you, little one, every successful attack is a gift." The boy with the scar walked toward his opponent, gripping his leg with fingertips that had developed bone armor. "You take power from collision... right? Then let's see how much you can absorb." The boy with the scar spun around, hurling his opponent toward the exit door with massive force.

  The boy with the red streak stood up, smiling a bloody smile.

  "This is the conflict I wanted. It's just like that day." He arched his back slightly, moving his foot backward.

  Meanwhile, the boy with the scar placed a hand on his stomach. (If I eat him here, I'll gain few calories, but his annoyance will end, and I can go to the store...) the boy with the scar thought. "I don't have time to digest raw meat. I will eat a part of you so you can't stand up!" He screamed, crouching like a beast and spreading his fingers to pounce.

  The boy with the scar did not retreat. He did not hesitate. He launched like a missile.

  And in that moment...

  The boy's smile turned into a manic grin. Instead of retreating, he thrust his chest toward the danger.

  "Give me more!" he cheered with euphoria.

  When the sharp fingers descended, he didn't try to avoid them. Instead, he deliberately raised his arm, allowing the silver teeth to tear into his flesh.

  Tshhh!

  The sound of tearing flesh filled the place. Hot blood splattered, but the boy's eyes glowed with a strange eagerness. He didn't see pain as punishment... but as fuel.

  "Thanks..." he whispered in a hoarse voice as he felt his muscle fibers tearing and converting into energy. "Thanks for the gift!"

  The collisional energy from the bite, mixed with pure pain, instantly transformed into a shockwave.

  Boom!

  The ground beneath his feet cracked. The boy with the scar was blasted backward violently, his yellow eyes widening in surprise at the power exploding from the prey he thought was finished.

  The "boy" stood now, his arm bleeding profusely, but his body vibrating with an energy he had never known before. The blood flowing from him wasn't weakening him; it was baptizing him to appear as a true demon.

  "Is that all your power?"

  He pushed his foot forward, the air around him rippling from the intense pressure. "Come on... give me more!"

  "Has your mind separated from your body? It doesn't matter... you're just an annoying little one!" The boy with the scar snarled and rushed toward him with lightning speed. "Adrenaline won't help you forever!"

  But this time, the "boy" was ready.

  He didn't try to absorb the blow.

  As the lethal hand approached, he swerved with a fluid lateral movement. Not fleeing, but redirecting. He grabbed the attacker's wrist and used the boy with the scar's massive momentum against him.

  "Two can play the same game..." he whispered in his opponent's ear.

  With a single gesture, he released a portion of the stored energy. It wasn't a random wave, but a focused pulse that blasted the boy with the scar backward as if he’d been hit by a truck.

  But the boy with the scar didn't fall. He dug his metal claws into the ground, carving deep trenches in the concrete to brake his speed, then rose with terrifying slowness.

  "You are taking your death slowly... good," said the boy with the scar, walking toward the door then stopping, crouching like a monster preparing to pounce, his mouth open wide revealing rows of silver teeth. "If this is what you want, I will make you wish for a quick death!"

  "That's easy... I choose to crush you!!"

  The "boy" didn't wait for the threat to finish. He leaped toward the ceiling with amazing speed, using a burst of energy under his feet.

  Thwack!

  His feet hit the ceiling, and from there, he propelled himself back down like a rock falling from the sky, spinning in the air to increase momentum.

  "Take this!"

  When he was two meters from the ground, he struck the air with his heels, releasing all the stored energy in a focused seismic tremor.

  The recoil was catastrophic. The floor shattered, and the boy with the scar lost his balance for a moment.

  That moment was all he needed.

  "Thanks for the opening!" the "boy" shouted, rushing toward his unstable opponent. "My turn now!" He grabbed the boy with the scar's shoulder, ready to slam him into the wall and end it. "Now you..."

  He didn't finish his sentence.

  The boy with the scar didn't resist the push. He didn't try to retreat. With terrifying coldness, and a movement faster than the human eye could follow, he raised his free hand. It wasn't a punch. It wasn't a shove. It was a stuffing motion.

  The cold, hard metal fingers clamped shut inside the "boy's" mouth, which was open to speak. They thrust deep, bypassing the tongue, to rest directly at the entrance of the throat.

  "Ghhhk—!"

  The sound was choked in its cradle. The "boy's" eyes widened in shock, not from pain, but from helplessness. No air. No impact to absorb. Only cold metal blocking his breath from the inside.

  "You are all annoying."

  The boy with the scar stomped his foot, piercing the concrete to anchor himself in place, while his hand remained jammed deep in his opponent's mouth, preventing him from moving or breathing.

  "Just because you become Stable Stars, you think you own the world," the boy with the scar said, his stomach emitting a hungry, terrifying growl. "But Stellar Ascension is not a linear force. A First Star might be stronger than a Stable Star, and a Nebula might have a better ability than the rest. But even if Stellar Ascension was a linear force... you aren't fighting a Star here. You are fighting a Ranker... The Nova Event."

  The boy with the scar's face moved closer, his yellow eyes shining with menace. "Listen well, little one... from my understanding of your ability, I can tell you that you could explode yourself to get out of this predicament, but the price will be shredding your throat during the release, and your internal organs if my claws extend a little."

  The metal fingers pressed slightly inward, causing the "boy" to convulse involuntarily. "I told you... it was a matter of fast... or slow. It wasn't a matter of possible or impossible.”