So, it turns out that I, too, am a mouse.

The Doomsday King of Fists, Torresen, clenched his fists and looked at the White Fox—her body ruined by his punch, yet somehow not ruined at all.

“You bastard... it hurts so much... my body’s blown apart again!” White Fox clutched her abdomen in agony, her hair standing on end, blood tinged with the smell of gunpowder seeping through the cracks of her mask.

As the blood dripped onto the rubble, it sparked and sizzled.

White Fox grabbed her stomach with one hand, her face with the other, twisting herself into a grotesque pose. Her voice was hoarse and desperate: “Director, I can’t take it anymore! I’m blowing him up!”

Before Chen Shang could stop her, White Fox unzipped her sleeve, revealing her blood-soaked arm.

With her other hand, she drew a dagger and, with ruthless efficiency, sliced off her own forearm.

“Oh my god! What is the Fox contestant doing?!” Flavie gasped, covering her face in astonishment, the petals on her head spinning like a fan, becoming a walking meme of shock.

Under the watchful eyes of everyone, White Fox flung her severed arm with all her might, throwing it directly at Torresen’s face.

“Hmph, are you joking?” The Doomsday King of Fists burst into mocking laughter, catching the reeking, bloodied limb with a sneer. “What a laughable attack~”

“Ay, such an impulsive woman…” Chen Shang, ever vigilant, dove to the ground and murmured under his breath.

Boom—!

Just as Torresen wore his smug grin, the severed arm in his grip exploded out of nowhere.

A devastating shockwave radiated from his face, blasting him backward.

“Hahaha! That’s what I needed!” White Fox threw her head back and laughed wildly, hands on her hips, her ears flapping with glee as a new arm grew swiftly in place of the lost one.

“What on earth just happened? The Fox contestant’s arm actually exploded?!” Flavie, the commentator, exclaimed in awe, her flowered limbs quivering with excitement: “No matter how you say it, that was insanely cool! In a city crawling with monsters like Night Axis, underestimating your opponent is the gravest sin! Off to hell with your regrets, Doomsday King of Fists! Hahaha!”

As Torresen’s blasted form flew through the air, Flavie cleared her throat and raised her voice: “After such a close-range explosion, even the Doomsday King of Fists must be doomed. So I declare the winner of this match is the ‘Fox, Greatsword, and Glasses Team’! Let’s give a round of applause for these three warriors who resisted bravely against all odds... Eh?”

Midway through her declaration, a massive shadow emerged from the dissipating smoke.

Everyone stared in disbelief as Torresen, far from dead, hobbled out from the rubble.

He was severely wounded—half his face blown away, revealing metallic machinery beneath. His chest was charred, a massive chunk of debris impaled in his abdomen, blood mixed with engine oil seeping from the wound.

“I... I am Torresen... I am the King of Fists! I cannot lose!” Torresen roared, his half-mouth twisted into a snarl, his voice laced with a metallic reverb.

He had to admit that he had underestimated his opponents, or these rabble would never have stood a chance.

Once a notorious underground champion in the White Cathedral District, Torresen had walked the razor’s edge every day. Though undefeated, he knew that was only temporary.

He would, inevitably, be injured. He would, inevitably, grow old. Yet challengers, like swarming rats, would always come for him.

One day, some greedy upstart would seize upon his moment of weakness and bring him down.

Once the aura of the undefeated faded, he would become worthless trash, plummeting from the heights. The swarming rats would devour him, suck dry his last ounce of value, and toss his bones into the sewers.

This anxiety had haunted him for years. Until the day the son of the Xu Group came to one of his matches and offered him a proposition.

That young man, Xu Qing, gave him so much: money, feasts, a comfortable home, and a life free from constant fear.

He accepted the Xu Group’s modifications, evolving into a half-mechanical warrior who could survive a direct explosion. The Xu Group valued him immensely; this grand tournament was an opportunity arranged for him.

If he could win the championship, he would shed his old, miserable identity and become a star, a hero beloved by all in Night Axis City—a “Superhero.”

The Xu Group had crafted an entire plan for him, calling it the “Metropoliser” project.

A dazzling future awaited—one filled with limitless promise...

“I cannot fall here. I am the undefeated King of Fists!” he muttered with a contorted face, activating his iron fist’s final protocol.

This was his ultimate move—usable only once per battle, so powerful it would leave him gravely wounded as well.

The boosters in his iron arm spat fire as fierce as a rocket thruster, charring half his body to blackened carbon.

The next moment, the arm’s propulsion launched Torresen upward like a rocket, his battered frame soaring into the sky.

“World-Shattering Destruction!!!”

With Torresen’s roar, the flame-propelled iron fist abruptly changed direction, hurtling him downward straight at Chen Shang and his companions.

“Oh my god! Could this be... the long-lost, sky-falling fist technique of Night Axis City?!” Flavie cried out with glee. “I never thought our Doomsday King of Fists would unleash such a terrifying move before his demise! Is he seeking mutual destruction with the ‘Fox, Greatsword, and Glasses Team’?!”

A wall of fire blazed around the iron fist, making it awe-inspiring, like a meteor crashing from the heavens. Torresen’s intent was clear: annihilate all his enemies in one cataclysmic blow!

“Hey, what do we do?” White Fox looked nervously at Chen Shang, her ears twitching. “That move won’t kill me, but it’s going to hurt!”

“I’m not fond of pain either.” Chen Shang comforted her, rubbing her furry head.

White Fox promptly slapped his hand away: “Don’t think you can take advantage of me!”

Only the Greatsword Brother gazed at the sky, lost in thought.

“Does this remind you of something? Have you finally met a foe worthy of your ultimate move?” Chen Shang stepped behind Greatsword Brother, clapping his shoulder.

“You know that move?” came the muffled reply from under the helmet.

“I’ve watched footage of your battle against the Devouring Dragon. That move of yours—I remember it vividly.” Chen Shang praised sincerely, “I’d love to see the true strength of a Borderlands Hunter in person.”

Greatsword Brother took a deep breath, gripped the hilt of his massive sword with both hands, and raised it behind him.

Chen Shang retreated several dozen steps until he stood forty meters away.

Red lights flared on the great mechanical sword. The swordsman’s body leaned at a forty-five-degree angle, his posture tensed, gathering power.

Torresen’s iron fist drew ever closer to the ground—the oppressive force making even Chen Shang’s heart pound.

As Greatsword Brother’s charge reached five seconds, the sword’s light flickered yellow.

At the same moment, Torresen was less than thirty meters away, plummeting in a direct line, the ground beneath whipped by intense gusts.

Beep—

At last, the sword’s light vanished, replaced by a fierce, ominous red glow coursing along the blade.

“Now!” Greatsword Brother Hunter bellowed, swinging the greatsword with all his might at the descending iron fist.

Boom—!

In that instant, every spectator heard a blast like a miniature nuclear detonation, then, as if struck deaf, nothing at all.

The moment sword met iron fist, everything around them was obliterated by the shockwave—even Chen Shang, forty meters away, was sent flying, spitting blood.

As the blast wave faded, the crowd saw within a massive crater, Hunter standing with his twisted sword, while Torresen’s iron arm had been shattered to scraps and fragments.

The Doomsday King of Fists lay dying on the ground, his voice a broken whisper: “What... was that?”

Hunter took a ragged breath and asked, “Have you ever heard of the Devouring Dragon?”

“Cough... what’s that...” Torresen spat blood, bewildered.

“Seems the younger generation knows nothing…” Hunter sighed with regret. “The Devouring Dragon that nearly destroyed this city was slain by me—by us—with this very technique.”

“That move is called the True Charged Slash. It’s his signature.” Fifty meters away, Chen Shang wiped blood from his mouth and explained to White Fox at his side.

Torresen’s gaze faded, and before his eyes, a blinding light appeared.

“So... I was a rat too...”

Only now did he realize that those before him had survived a hell far crueler than his own, and stood as mountains he could never cross.

Torresen closed his eyes, and the crimson beam that once bathed him faded away.

“Oh! What a spectacular match! I’m sure, with your dynamic vision, you all witnessed that earth-shattering clash!” Flavie cut in at just the right moment, announcing loudly: “The winner of this preliminary round is the ‘Fox, Greatsword, and Glasses Team’! Let’s give our warmest applause to these three valiant warriors!”