Arashi's eyes narrowed. The remaining nineteen men charged simultaneously, but he was already moving faster than any human could perceive. Time seemed to bend around him, the echoes of their attacks fading before they even arrived.
One swung a metal pipe. Arashi caught it mid-air, twisted it, and sent it spinning into a wall, the sound of shattering metal echoing through the empty streets. Another leapt from a rooftop, fists raised. Arashi backflipped, landing perfectly, sending a shockwave through the ground with a single stomp. The man flew several meters back, crashing into a lamp post.
Arashi's movements became a blur. Spinning kicks, lightning-fast punches, dodges that seemed impossible—they all flowed in a rhythm that made the battlefield feel like a dance. Blood, dust, and debris filled the air, yet his steps never faltered.
One of the bullies, braver than the rest, charged head-on with a wooden bat. Arashi caught it with one hand, twisted, and slammed the man's arm into the asphalt. Pain spread across the attacker's face.
"Still think you can win?" Arashi asked calmly, as if speaking to a student rather than a group of hardened criminals.
The man groaned, struggling to rise. Before he could retaliate, Arashi vanished, only to appear behind him, delivering a knee that sent him sprawling into a nearby trash can. The force echoed like thunder, startling even the bystanders who were frozen moments ago.
Arashi's internal voice reflected his focus: This is the peak of their coordination… if I break the leader, the rest will crumble. I need precision, not brute force.
The giant from before, still recovering from their last encounter, roared in anger and charged again. Arashi leapt, spinning through the air, and delivered a flying kick to the bully's chest. He collided with a concrete pillar, the impact sending cracks along the structure.
The other bullies, seeing their strongest falter, hesitated. Arashi took advantage. He moved like a phantom, freezing one in time, spinning another with a flick of his leg, sending them crashing into each other.
"You rely on numbers… but strength is solitary," Arashi muttered, his gaze cold and focused.
One enemy tried a sneak attack, wielding a knife. Time halted around him, Arashi's eyes catching every movement. With surgical precision, he disarmed the man and threw him several meters into the air, landing perfectly without even looking back.
The remaining men regrouped, their fear mixing with rage. "We fight together!" one yelled, swinging wildly at Arashi. But the coordination was chaotic—one accidentally struck another, and another stumbled. Arashi watched calmly, picking his moment.
With a sudden sprint, he closed the distance between himself and the group's strongest remaining fighter. Fist met face, elbow to ribs, kick to the stomach—the blows were too fast, too precise. Each strike carried the weight of someone who had mastered every motion. The enemy staggered, blood trickling from multiple cuts, yet he refused to fall.
Arashi tilted his head, a faint smile on his face. "Impressive endurance… but futile."
He activated the Partial Dimension again, slowing the world around him. The group's movements were sluggish, exaggerated, easy to read. He struck with calculated power, sending each attacker flying with minimal effort.
The final few tried desperately to coordinate, but Arashi was already inside their formation, dismantling it from the center. One fired a small firearm. Bullets fizzled in mid-air, dissipating against the invisible barrier of Arashi's speed. Another tried to ambush him from behind—he spun, delivered a backhand, and the man crashed into a wall with a resounding thud.
Arashi's internal voice echoed: One by one… all fall. The lesson is simple. Strength is earned, not inherited through fear.
By the time the battle ended, only broken bruised men remained, sprawled across the empty street. Arashi stood in the middle, calm, adjusting his earphones as if nothing had happened. The city, though slightly damaged from the collisions and impacts, remained eerily quiet.
He glanced at the horizon, thinking of Rin. Work comes next. But these idiots… they'll remember today.
A faint smile appeared as he walked past the fallen, disappearing into the streets as the Partial Dimension faded, leaving time to flow normally again. The bystanders who had been frozen returned to reality, screaming, shocked at the scene. Whispers spread quickly:
"Did… did Arashi do this?"
"He's… unbeatable!"
"Everyone… stay back!"
Arashi walked calmly away, phone back in his pocket, thoughts already turning to his next responsibilities. The fight had been complete. His control, precise. His enemies, humbled.
And somewhere deep in his mind, a question lingered—what new challenges awaited someone capable of this power?