Seeing that Illumi apparently recognized the name, the three men couldn't help but grin smugly.
"Just someone who relies on petty tricks," Illumi said, his eyes turning icy again as he took a deliberate step forward with his right foot.
Can this "Lord Fox" you speak of even show up here to save you now?
Gulp...
The aura of death surrounded them, making the three men feel as if they were trapped in the bitter cold of a winter night, with a chilling wind piercing their bones.
You...
Poof!
Before he could finish speaking, Illumi vanished from their sight.
A soft sound echoed at the same time.
The two men flanking the center figure trembled violently, but a second later they realized they were unharmed, leaving them puzzled.
Ugh... ugh...
They heard their companion whimper.
They slowly turned to look at the man in the middle.
The balding man's eyes widened as he clutched his throat.
With a wet splurt, the tearing of flesh echoed as blood gushed from his throat like a ruptured pipe.
Thud!
The balding man collapsed to the ground, his eyes wide and unseeing as blood gushed from his throat and seeped into the sewer through the cracks in the floor.
"His... his windpipe is gone!" the man with the missing pinky finger exclaimed, staring in horror at his lifeless companion.
The One-Eyed Man, his eye patch covering one eye, stared at the corpse's throat, his face twisting in shock.
A bloody hole gaped where the throat should have been; the windpipe was completely gone.
Drip... drip...
Fresh blood dripped from Illumi's fingertips, striking the ground with crisp sounds like raindrops.
His right hand hung loosely at his side, fingers curled slightly around a section of windpipe clutched in his palm and dripping with blood.
Illumi slowly turned to face the two remaining men, his smile widening as he advanced with deliberate steps.
No... don't...
"I don't want to die. Please don't kill me."
Panic seized both men.
They dropped their weapons and turned to flee, but Illumi continued his relentless pursuit, keeping his measured pace.
Thump, thump.
Two soft sounds echoed from the depths of the alley, followed by the heavy thuds of bodies hitting the ground.
Clap, clap, clap, clap.
Illumi stared with no expression at the two lifeless corpses on the ground, their eyes wide in death.
A round of applause broke out behind him.
Impressive. You took down three 150th-floor-level experts without even breaking a sweat.
No, "without breaking a sweat" isn't exactly right.
It is more accurate to say you are simply on a completely different level.
The gap between you is so vast, it is almost absurd. Are you really... just a kid?
Suddenly, two figures appeared in the dark alley.
The speaker wore a white hooded sweatshirt.
The other wore a purple and red hooded sweatshirt.
Both had their hoods up, concealing their faces.
Anyone who shows up at this hour...
They are either a foolish, arrogant person seeking death, or someone so arrogant they believe their strength surpasses mine.
Illumi's cold, low voice echoed through the alley as he turned slowly to face them.
Which one do you think you are?
Yahaha, don't be so harsh.
The figure in the white hood laughed loudly and stepped forward until they stood seven meters from Illumi.
"You're a guest in this city. We would not harm you."
On the contrary, as the hosts of this city, we have come to welcome you.
Illumi lowered his gaze, letting the blood drip from his hands with a steady "drip, drip, drip," and said in a deep voice, "The city's masters?"
"You always choose the prettiest words," the hooded figure in white said.
We're nothing but tumors, festering in the city's shadows.
The hooded figure spread his hands, neither denying Illumi's assessment nor disagreeing with him.
Well, you're not wrong.
So you knew all along. If that's the case, why did you dare go that far?
Illumi's expression turned dark.
He knew the hooded figure was referring to Jin, his opponent on the 150th floor.
If he has a tattoo like that, he must hold a high rank in your gang.
Indeed, Illumi had recognized Jin as a gang member the moment he saw the tattoo on Jin's back during their match.
In some countries in this world, as in certain nations from his previous life, there was an unspoken rule: people did not choose their tattoos freely.
Among those in the underworld, the higher a person's status, the larger the area of skin they were permitted to tattoo.
If they weren't real underworld bosses, they wouldn't have such extensive tattoos as Jin's, let alone a tattoo of Jinno himself.
"State your purpose," Illumi demanded, probing their intentions.
"Simple," the white-hooded figure replied casually, with hands on their hips.
Jin was scheduled to fight in an underground boxing match tonight. Since you beat him nearly to death, you'll be taking his place.
The white-hooded figure's words revealed the nature of their gang: it was a vast criminal organization with tentacles in Heaven's Arena, underground boxing matches, and possibly even the 200th floor.
"And if I refuse?" Illumi asked, smirking.
He hated being forced into action, and he loathed being threatened.
"Oh?"
The white-hooded figure lowered his head as a sinister smile spread across his face.
He stepped forward and pulled back his hood, revealing short golden hair.
I'll handle this.
"Don't interfere," said the man with the short golden hair.
Sigh.
The figure in the purple hoodie, who had been silent until now, sighed and stepped back.
Understood.
Illumi, a faint smile on his face, studied their confident stances and stepped forward to confront them.
Oh, quite the dramatic atmosphere you two are creating.
The golden-haired man, whose face was weathered and who appeared to be about 30 to 35 years old, scanned Illumi from head to toe with eyes as sharp as blades.
Let's begin with introductions.
My name is Ivan. I'm a gangster enforcer and a fighter in underground boxing matches.
Let me make this clear: I'm not fighting you to avenge that loser Jin.
"This is business, not a personal vendetta."
Ivan rubbed his shoulder, bounced lightly on his feet, and threw a few quick punches to demonstrate his boxing style.
"I won't hurt you, but you have to take Jin's place in the match."
Otherwise, you will end up in the hospital morgue.
Illumi ignored him.
Ivan's expression darkened, and with a whoosh he lunged forward, throwing a series of jabs at Illumi.
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh...!!
Ivan relentlessly pummeled Illumi with a barrage of punches, while Illumi danced lightly on his feet, dodging every strike.
The two moved in a flurry of attacks and evasions, reaching the crossroads of the alley.
"All you do is scurry around like a rat," Ivan growled, furrowing his brow.
Illumi's small frame moved with unnatural agility, and each punch missed by mere millimeters.
Just as Illumi retreated to the intersection, a glint appeared in Ivan's eyes.
As he threw another punch, he raised his right leg and aimed a kick at Illumi's head.
Boom!
A deafening crash rang out as Ivan's kick shattered the alley wall at the crossroads, sending stone fragments flying.
Illumi had sensed the kick the moment Ivan moved his leg.
Just as the kick was about to land, he ducked low and narrowly avoided the blow.
"Your kick is still amateurish," Illumi sneered.
While Ivan was kicking a hole in the wall, Illumi was not idle.
A smirk crossed his lips as he aimed a punch straight at Ivan's groin.
Thud!
The sound of flesh colliding rang out, faintly accompanied by the crack of something breaking.
Ugh... Aaah...
Ivan cried out in agonized screams, clutching his groin with both hands.
He hopped backward three steps on one foot, then stepped on a banana peel, crashed to the ground with a thump, and could not get up.
High kicks leave you completely defenseless.
Are all the fighters in this underground boxing match this pathetic?
Illumi stood his ground, clenching his fist.
Mocking Ivan with a smile, Illumi said, "You act tough, but you're actually a softie."
Ivan lay on the ground, trembling and clutching his groin.
After taunting him, Illumi turned to the hooded figure behind Ivan and let out a soft chuckle.
"What about you?"
Aren't you going to fight me?
The figure in the purple hoodie had his hood up, hiding everything above his mouth. Only the corners of his lips curled into a smile, revealing two rows of pristine, even teeth as he slowly stepped forward, chuckling.
You're very impressive, kid.
Seriously, very impressive. You're making me itch to fight.
Snap!
Suddenly, Ivan, still lying on the ground, grabbed the figure's ankle, stopping his advance.
Huh?
The figure in the purple hoodie glanced down at his foot.
Ivan stared up at him with unwavering resolve, and his voice was hoarse.
Didn't I tell you not to interfere?
You're finished already, aren't you?
The figure gazed at Ivan, his lips curling into a wide grin.
"You... you bastard! Don't underestimate me!"