The sphere containing Namkhai hovered above the floor. His opponent approached it.

  “I sent him to the coldest point in the world. Usually, a couple of minutes is enough for an enemy to freeze to death there, but just to be safe, I’ll leave him there a bit longer. Hm… why is he just sitting in the snow and doing nothing? Did he really give up? What a pathetic weakling.”

  At the same time, Delilah was knocked to the floor as her opponent, dressed in a perverse outfit, shoved her away.

  “Strange… you had no knife in your hands, no weapon at all nothing but a bare palm. You didn’t even clench your fist when you rushed at me. Is your power in your touch?”

  Delilah stood up and looked at him seriously.

  “Hm… and your gloves are hanging at your waist. So if you touch me, something bad will happen to me?” He examined her carefully.

  She said nothing, merely took a stance.

  “I’m right, aren’t I? What a shame. To be honest, I wouldn’t have minded you beating me up properly. Oh well, there’s another option…”

  He shoved his hand into his mouth and pulled another long whip out of his throat.

  Delilah shuddered in disgust.

  “Shocked? My power is the ‘bottomless gut.’ Pretty convenient, you know.”

  Completely stunned by his antics, Dalila took out her notebook and wrote something.

  “You write? Why?”

  She showed him the notebook. Written there was:

  “Why don’t you just wear the whips on your thighs? Why torture yourself by stuffing them inside you?”

  “Heh-heh, so that’s what interests you, my dear? It’s simply because it’s beautiful and elegant.”

  Delilah's face twisted with revulsion.

  “In any case, you’re mute, aren’t you? Too bad, I won’t get to hear your screams when I catch you,” he said, slicing the air with his whip across the entire room.

  She dodged the strikes and lunged at him, closing the distance while firing her pistol. But thanks to his inhuman reflexes, the enemy easily evaded the bullets. The whip coiled around her leg he yanked it, hurling her aside. Delilah flew several meters and slammed into the floor.

  Barely getting back to her feet, she took another hit to the shoulder. The whip tore through part of her clothing, opening a wound at the point of impact. She screamed, but no sound, no voice came out.

  “So you really don’t have a voice at all? Such a sha-a-ame,” he drawled.

  He attacked again. Delilah dodged, and the floor where the whip struck cracked open.

  “Surrender, sweetheart. I promise, you won’t regret it. I’ll play with you in ways no one else ever has.”

  Delilah paused for a moment, then simply froze, taking no action at all. Her opponent was taken aback and stopped.

  “You’re giving up?”

  She raised her hands. Without wasting a second, two whips wrapped around them.

  “Well then, a reasonable choice. But first…” He gave a sharp pull and began hurling her around the room, smashing her into the walls.

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  “I need you to wear yourself out…”

  When it was over, Delilah lay on the floor, badly injured. Her opponent pulled ropes from his “pocket,” bound each of her wrists, then secured the other ends with hooks in the ceiling and hoisted her up. She was completely immobilized.

  1991 was still sitting on the floor, patiently waiting for his opponent.

  Phobos was evading the attacks of the specters. With a single swing, he severed the first one’s head it immediately dissipated. The second was dealt with just as quickly. Having finished with them, Phobos stepped toward his real enemy. The man merely grinned in response.

  Killer teleported in an instant, appearing behind the brute. In the very next second, his opponent brought his cleaver crashing down—blades collided. Phobos was thrown back.

  He quickly inspected his katana: no cracks, no chips.

  “I need to be more careful, my weapon might not withstand his blows.”

  The enemy roared once more, and two specters appeared behind Phobos again, immediately lunging at him. While the killer evaded their strikes, the main opponent hurled his spear. It flew so fast that the spearhead could be seen slicing through the air itself.

  Without hesitation, Phobos used his teleport and reappeared in a safe spot. The spear slammed into the wall, after which one of the specters yanked it free and threw it back to its master.

  “Excellent… your reactions are superb. It seems you truly are the one,” the brute said, rolling the spear in his palm as he stared at Phobos.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You’re the one destined to kill me.”

  “If you’re that eager to die by my hand, you could just stop resisting.”

  “That’s not for me to decide…” the enemy said, hurling the spear at him once more.

  The sphere containing Namkhai was still floating above the floor. The dwarf standing beside it muttered irritably,

  “More than enough time has passed. All he did in there was sit still. Anyone else would’ve frozen to death several times over by now.”

  He folded his hands and began chanting a spell. Inside the sphere, a portal slowly opened.

  “Come on, spit his body out already. I’ll show the boss my trophy,” he said excitedly, stepping closer, expecting to see Namkhai’s lifeless, frostbitten corpse.

  Instead, a powerful punch smashed into his face, sending him flying back into the wall.

  Namkhai stepped out of the portal—frozen, covered in snow, but alive.

  “You bastard! What the hell did you keep me in there for so long?! A little more and I really would’ve died… Good thing they taught me meditation and body temperature control at the monastery. Just a bit—but it helped.”

  He shook the snow off his robe and took a fighting stance.

  “So come on. Let’s fight one-on-one, like men. I’m ready for your tricks! Come on! Hey… why aren’t you getting up?”

  He narrowed his eyes.

  A pause.

  “…Ah. You’re already dead.”

  Namkhai won this fight.

  Delilah was hanging there, completely immobilized. Her opponent slowly circled around her, speaking with satisfaction.

  “I’m so glad you finally gave up and assessed your chances realistically. Don’t worry you won’t regret it. I have many toys inside me that will cheer you up. But first… I want to take a good look at you.”

  He stopped right in front of her.

  Delilah raised her head and met his gaze. Her lips moved as if she were about to kiss him.

  “Heh, you want to kiss me?” he sneered, leaning closer but froze at the last moment.

  “You really think I’m that stupid, sweetheart?”

  She never intended to kiss him. Delilah gathered saliva, and when his face came as close as possible, she spat straight at him. However, thanks to his reflexes, he instinctively dodged.

  The plan failed. Delilah’s eyes dimmed for a moment.

  But suddenly, her opponent caught the spit directly in his mouth.

  “Hehehe, idiot… You think I’d just let that ha-uh.... AAAAAH!”

  He didn’t finish his sentence. His throat began to dry out, the pain became unbearable. He collapsed onto the floor, writhing in hellish agony as death rapidly closed in.

  Delilah was in complete shock. She couldn’t tell whether she should be glad she managed to get him, or terrified of what had just happened.

  Delilah won this fight.

  1991 finally stood up from the floor.

  “This is some bullshit. Being this late is just disrespectful,” he muttered.

  “Whatever. I’ll move on.”

  1991 won this ‘fight’

  The three of them reached the top floor and gathered in front of the massive doors.

  “You guys beat your opponents too?” Namkhai asked.

  “I didn’t have one,” 1991 replied.

  “What?! Then what were you even doing?”

  “Waiting…” He paused. “Wait. Where’s the guy with the katana?”

  “Hope he’s dead,” Namkhai said flatly.

  Andok’s voice echoed in their ears.

  “Phobos is still fighting his opponent. You three will meet the boss. Don’t screw this up you got too close, too fast. That’s commendable. Now the important thing is not to ruin everything and take him alive.”

  “Got it,” Namkhai replied and pushed the doors open.

  In the center of the massive hall, calmly seated, the boss was already waiting for them.