Those two words struck like a bolt from the blue, slamming into Tornado's psyche. Her eyes turned savage as she ground out through clenched teeth:
"Didn't expect you to be so tough… Today I'll twist you into a pretzel!"
Veins bulged across her smooth forehead as she poured every ounce of psychokinesis onto King without reservation.
The ground cracked layer after layer beneath them; for dozens of kilometers, the surface quaked under her pressure, sinking meters deep.
The air grew heavy, thick with an invisible weight, as if gravity had multiplied tenfold.
Thick clouds rolled across the sky; her psychokinesis was so immense it altered the very weather, a storm threatening to break.
Finally, after her relentless effort, King's body moved.
He simply lifted a hand, scratched his nose, and put it back.
A fraction slower than usual—yet he had barely been affected.
King ignored her restraints entirely.
The Seventh Gate of the Eight Gates already granted terrifying physical boosts—let alone for someone whose base stats were at the peak of Dragon Level.
Back when he had read the original manga, King had found Tornado's psychokinesis utterly terrifying.
She could rip half a continent into the air and crumple a monster like Psykos into a ball, hurling it sky-high—an undeniable display of power.
Now, experiencing her strongest psychokinesis firsthand, he found it… underwhelming.
King stepped forward, pushing through her full-force psychokinesis, advancing slowly yet unshakeably.
Step… by step. Each footfall rang like a war drum in Tornado's mind.
She tried to halt him, but with monstrous physical strength, he bulldozed through the psychic pressure, barely affected.
His slow pace was not due to her power—but because he felt like showing off.
Stars danced before Tornado's eyes; black rims crept into her vision—her psychokinesis stretched to its absolute limit.
She swore she had never unleashed stronger psychokinesis in her life, yet the man before her stood unmoved.
Arrogant as she was, Tornado felt her worldview shatter.
So this is The Strongest Man on the Surface of the Earth… the legends were true… incredible… But I'm S-Class Rank 2! KING is only S-Class Rank 7! Why should I lose to him?!
Even at her limit, barely able to stand, Tornado clenched her teeth and endured.
Pride and self-respect forbade her to fall.
She raised a hand, splitting off part of her psychokinesis; it condensed mid-air into spears sharp enough to pierce a human psyche.
With a sweep of her arm, hundreds of those spears shot at the stationary King, intent on turning him into a pincushion.
Against an assault that could one-shot most Dragon-Level threats, King merely swatted the air as if shooing a mosquito.
Boom-boom-boom!!
One slap turned the space ahead into a vacuum; an air-cannon obliterated every last psychic spear.
Suddenly, a single, faster spear tore through the void, racing for his face.
As it closed in, a large hand caught it and crushed it to nothing.
Seeing her vaunted psychokinesis fail to scratch him, Tornado's eyes flickered with doubt for the first time.
Can I really win?
Of course I can!
Indignation flooded her; she forced her psyche, squeezing out an even greater surge of power.
Immense psychokinesis warped the air; the earth quaked, spider-web fissures racing out for a hundred kilometers.
A distant forest was caught in the blast—trees flattened to sawdust the instant the force touched them.
The gap between them shrank. Hands in pockets, golden hair whipping in the psychic gale, King's scarred, majestic face drew ever nearer.
At last, they stood barely a meter apart, separated only by her psychokinetic shield, staring at each other through the green barrier.
Wisps of white steam rose from King as his calm eyes met hers, the thunderous Emperor Engine still roaring across the world.
Tornado's face was scarlet, veins bulging on her forehead, her emerald eyes shot through with crimson threads.
The contrast between them could not be starker.
King raised a fist; power enough to twist space erupted, smashing into her shield.
A shockwave blasted outward for tens of kilometers, ripping clouds apart and leaving the sky brilliantly clear.
Tornado was hurled away like a cannonball, slamming into the earth; hundreds of meters of ground shattered, forming a vast crater.
She barely redirected her fall, carving a kilometer-long trench instead of plunging underground.
Her supposedly unbreakable shield now webbed with cracks, on the verge of collapse.
King had used only eighty percent of his strength; he needed to ramp up gradually, both to adjust to his new power and to avoid killing her outright.
Amid swirling dust, she staggered to her feet, blood at her lips, disbelief in her eyes.
I'm really going to lose… to this guy…
In a daze, she felt herself shrinking, lying amid ruins.
Before her loomed a broad-shouldered figure she couldn't quite see; he reached out and stroked her green curls:
"Keep at it, Tornado. Strive to become the strongest—grow until no one looks down on you again."