Emily’s voice broke through the tension, frantic and urgent. "Sockoo, wait! It’s too dangerous!"

  But Sockoo didn’t listen, her determination to reach Hajime pushing her forward. Daka, realizing the gravity of the situation, dashed after her, his expression grim. "Sockoo, stop! You’ll get yourself killed!"

  Hajime gritted his teeth, sweat pouring down his face as he tried to push himself upright. But his shattered leg refused to obey, the pain immobilizing him. His vision blurred, but he could still see Sockoo running toward him, her concern written all over her face.

  "Stay back!""You can’t—"

  Before he could finish, Izaya stepped closer, his presence looming over Hajime like a shadow. "Touching,""But this is the end for you, Hajime."

  Hajime’s flames flared weakly as he tried to muster the strength to defend himself. "Not… yet,"

  "You’re nothing compared to me, Hajime!"

  Izaya taunted, his strikes growing more ferocious. "You thought you were invincible? How pathetic!"

  Daka, witnessing the brutal attack, clenched his fists in frustration. "Enough!"

  The assault forced Izaya to leap back, dodging and deflecting the swords with skill, but it gave Emily the chance she needed to reach Hajime. She knelt beside him, ready to heal his shattered leg. "Hold still, Hajime, I’ll—"

  Before she could begin, a miraculous sight stopped her. Hajime’s leg began to mend itself, the shattered bones realigning and the torn muscles regenerating at an unnatural speed. The glowing aura of semi-immortality enveloped him, erasing the damage from Izaya’s attacks as if it had never happened.

  Emily gasped, her hands trembling. "What… what is this?"

  Izaya, now standing across the room, narrowed his eyes. His smug expression shifted to one of realization and fury. "A God Successor…""No wonder you’re so stubborn. But that changes nothing!"

  Daka, Sockoo, and Emily exchanged confused looks, the term unfamiliar to them. "A God Successor?""What does that mean?"

  Hajime, now fully healed, rose to his feet. His usual fiery determination returned, his blue flames igniting once more. He glanced at Sockoo and the others, a shadow of guilt flickering across his face. "It’s… something I hoped you’d never have to know,"

  Izaya smirked darkly. "Then allow me to educate them, Hajime. They deserve to know the true burden you carry."

  Hajime’s fists clenched, his flames burning brighter. "You’ve said enough, Izaya. This ends now."

  "It’s not some big secret or burden,"

  Hajime began, his voice steady despite the chaos around him. "A God Successor is someone chosen by a god to inherit their will and power. The catch? You have to die first."

  Sockoo’s eyes widened. "You… you died?"

  Hajime nodded. "A long time ago, I was at death's door, and a god—whoever they were—picked me as their successor. They gave me a random ability, which is where my power comes from.""I’m not that different from any of you. The only extra thing I got out of the deal was this semi-immortality. It just means my body heals itself, but I can still feel pain. A lot of it."

  Emily, still processing, asked, "So, you’re… chosen? Like, destined for something great?"

  Hajime rolled his eyes. "Destiny’s overrated. I didn’t ask for this. It just happened. I’m still me, and I fight because I choose to, not because some god told me to."

  Izaya smirked, cutting into the conversation. "What a humble little speech, Hajime. But let’s be real—being a God Successor puts you leagues above everyone else. You’re not just a fighter; you’re a walking miracle."

  Hajime’s flames flared brighter as he locked eyes with Izaya. "Enough talking. If you think being a God Successor makes me special, then I’ll show you what it really means. It’s not the power that matters—it’s how you use it."

  Sockoo, still worried but now understanding, called out, "Just don’t push yourself too far, Hajime!"

  Hajime smirked, giving her a reassuring glance. "I’ll be fine. Stay back and let me handle this."

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  With that, he charged at Izaya, Storyshift glowing brilliantly in his hand, ready to prove that even a God Successor’s strength came from more than divine intervention—it came from heart and determination. Hajime gritted his teeth, his body trembling as the pain surged through him. He activated his Sensing Ability

  "What is this?""Every attack route is blocked? How? There’s no way he can cover every angle perfectly…"

  Hajime forced himself to calm down, closing his eyes for a moment as he began analyzing. His mind replayed Izaya’s movements from the moment the battle began, breaking them down frame by frame like a puzzle.

  "His speed… It’s the only stat he has that doesn’t completely surpass mine. But everything else—strength, endurance, precision—completely overwhelms me. And he’s not just strong; he’s smart. He’s countering my legs, my strongest asset, with ease."

  He clenched his fists, frustration bubbling inside him. Hajime wasn’t built like Rizra, a physical powerhouse who could outmuscle her opponents. His fighting style relied on agility, precision, and overwhelming speed—traits that had always served him well. But against Izaya, none of it seemed to matter.

  "I can’t overpower him. I can’t outspeed him. So what can I do?"

  Izaya, noticing Hajime’s hesitation, chuckled darkly. "What’s the matter, God Successor? Realizing how outmatched you are? Your fancy tricks and speed won’t save you here."

  Hajime’s eyes narrowed. "Analyze. If he’s countering me so perfectly, then he must be reacting to something. My movements? My patterns? Or…"

  A sudden realization hit him. "He’s predicting me. That’s why every potential attack route is blocked. It’s not that he’s covering all angles—it’s that he knows where I’ll strike before I even do. He’s anticipating my every move."

  The pieces began to fall into place. Hajime’s legs, his strongest weapon, had been neutralized because Izaya had adapted to his speed and movement patterns. But now that he understood, a new strategy began to form in his mind.

  "If he’s reading me, then I’ll have to change the way I fight. I’ll make my movements unpredictable, chaotic. I’ll force him to react instead of anticipate."

  His heart pounded as he prepared to execute his plan. Hajime gripped Storyshift, which pulsed with energy, as if sensing his resolve. He staggered to his feet, his injured leg barely holding him up.

  "You think you’ve got me figured out, Izaya?"

  Hajime muttered, a faint smirk crossing his lips despite the pain. "Let’s see how well you handle the unexpected."

  Izaya tilted his head, intrigued. "Oh? Still have some fight left in you? This should be fun."

  Hajime shifted his stance, his movements loose and irregular. Instead of relying on his usual techniques, he began to improvise, combining feints, misdirections, and unorthodox attacks. His flames flickered erratically, creating a disorienting display that made it harder to predict his next move.

  The battle wasn’t over yet. Hajime wasn’t just fighting Izaya—he was fighting his own limits, pushing himself to adapt and survive in a battle where every advantage seemed to be against him. As Hajime analyzed his options, lost in thought, Izaya took the opportunity to strike. With a sinister grin, he unleashed a rapid barrage of dark blasts, each infused with devastating power and precision. The attacks hit Hajime’s vital points in quick succession—his chest, ribs, shoulders, and legs—each impact sending a jolt of searing pain through his body.

  Hajime’s eyes widened in shock, his vision blurring as the pain overwhelmed him. His knees buckled, and he collapsed onto the ground, gasping for air. Blood seeped from his wounds, staining the floor beneath him. His body trembled as the overwhelming realization set in: his semi-immortality

  wasn’t kicking in.

  Emily rushed forward, panic etched across her face as she reached for her healing magic. But before she could begin, Hajime raised a weak, trembling hand in her direction. "No… Don’t waste it… I’ll heal… eventually."

  Emily froze, hesitant but respecting his request. Her gaze darted between Hajime and Izaya, her heart pounding in fear and desperation. She didn’t understand why Hajime wasn’t recovering, why his body wasn’t repairing itself as it always did.

  Hajime, still lying on the ground, clenched his teeth against the pain. Something was wrong—terribly wrong. His usual resilience, the gift of semi-immortality that had saved him countless times, wasn’t working. He forced himself to focus inward, using his sensing ability to analyze his own condition.

  Then he felt it. His heart. Something was different.

  "The Immortal Breakers… they’re broken."

  Hajime’s thoughts spiraled as he recalled the words of the god who had chosen him as a successor.

  Hajime’s blood ran cold as the realization set in. "I’m… human now?"

  Izaya approached slowly, his presence exuding dominance and malice. "What’s wrong, Hajime? You seem… vulnerable. Did something happen to your precious god-given abilities?"

  Hajime forced himself to sit up, his body screaming in protest. His vision swam, but he refused to let himself fall again. He couldn’t afford to show weakness—not now.

  Emily stepped closer, her voice shaking. "Hajime, what’s going on? Why aren’t you healing?!"

  Hajime looked at her, his expression a mixture of exhaustion and determination. "Because… I’m no longer a god’s successor right now. I’m just… human."

  The weight of his words hit everyone in the room like a shockwave. Sockoo, Daka, and Emily stared at him in disbelief, while Izaya’s grin widened with malicious delight.

  "Human, huh?""Then this just got a whole lot more interesting."

  Hajime clenched his fists, his mind racing. This was the worst-case scenario, but he wasn’t done yet. He couldn’t afford to be. "Human or not,""I’ll find a way to win. I always do."

  This fight wasn’t just about his strength anymore—it was about his resolve, his ability to adapt, and the unbreakable will that had carried him this far. The battle was chaos. Izaya moved like a dark blur, weaving through every attack with almost effortless precision. His dominance over the battlefield was absolute.

  Hajime gritted his teeth, his body barely holding up as he forced himself to dodge Izaya’s relentless strikes. His semi-immortality was still inactive, and every hit he took felt like a hammer blow to his mortal body. Yet, even in his weakened state, his mind raced, analyzing every movement, every weakness—but finding none.

  "He’s too fast… too strong,"