His face was already swollen. Bruises bloomed across his skin. His eyes burned—wild with frustration and fury.
And still, he charged.
Another clash.
Another loss.
Again and again, like a maddened bull, he rushed in.
And each time, he was met by a fist that delivered one clear message:
You are not ready.
Leon growled, baring his teeth. "What the hell are you saying, you little shit?!"
He couldn't understand the boy's Japanese. But that didn't stop him.
He kept coming—reckless, blind, desperate.
And he kept getting thrown back, sent flying with each blow.
The nameless boy sighed under his breath. "Tch. Keep charging in like that and you'll never grow…"
He adjusted his stance slightly, lowering his center of gravity.
"You may have been blessed with power… but a man's strength comes from his mind."
Dark energy gathered subtly around his left hand, the aura coiling like a shadowed serpent.
"Gyakumei-Ryuu: Underhand Strike."
The words left his lips like a whisper of death.
