adaptability

After discovering that close combat was no longer effective against him, he fought relentlessly, dozens, hundreds, even thousands of times. But each time, he lost his life. After a thousand attempts, he didn't even get up to leave.

When he finally went to school, arriving late, he discovered Lia's corpse. But before he could even scream, he lost his head and collapsed to the ground. Then, he rose again, filled with rage, and chained fight after fight. Mentally, he couldn't take it anymore—it had become just a routine. But each time, his brain updated itself, identifying weaknesses that he exploited in the next round. However, it took him dozens of deaths to find even a minimal, exploitable flaw.

Even then, his attacks barely left a scratch. After hundreds more resets, he understood the real reason he couldn't defeat his opponent. While fighting, he was constantly keeping an eye on Lia, because in some timelines, the mysterious assailant attacked her by surprise, killing her before she even had the chance to react. That made Ehito charge recklessly, headfirst into battle.

It might have seemed like a completely foolish idea, but Ehito had been training intensely for six years—equivalent to the training of several professionals combined. Over time, he had developed superhuman reflexes and instincts. So, when he rushed forward headfirst, he was not just acting blindly—he was following his battle instincts. It worked relatively well, but it was still not enough to defeat him.

He kept going. Someone as intelligent and emotionless as him would do anything to survive. But in this case, he couldn't bring himself to abandon Lia. So, he thought hard and found a solution—a scenario where Lia was safe.

He snapped his fingers, and two men appeared, instantly knocking Lia unconscious and transporting her to the reinforced basement of the house. Ehito then left alone to see how things would unfold.

When he reached a good distance, he locked eyes with the man and gestured for him to come. In absolute silence, he extended his knife to attack. The man, surprised and panicked, dodged with a backflip, landing on a balcony and letting out a low growl. He then drew his sword and jumped down to face Ehito.

Ehito was prepared. He defended himself with his dagger, but the impact was too powerful—he was thrown several meters back, coughing up blood. But that alone wouldn't be enough to stop him. He stood up, gripped his dagger tightly, planted his feet firmly on the ground, and propelled himself toward the man at an inhuman speed. However, the man could still perceive his movements.

He swung his sword, slicing through the air where Ehito had been—but missed. Not because he had miscalculated, but because Ehito had stopped abruptly. The man had no idea why, but Ehito knew exactly what he was doing. In less than a second, he used the stored energy from his sudden stop to launch himself high into the air.

Normally, that would be the worst possible move in a fight—being airborne meant he couldn't dodge or move freely. But he had planned for this. With perfect precision, he threw a small throwing knife, aiming directly for the man's eye. The man, unfazed, hadn't even seen it coming because he had moved at that exact moment to mock Ehito before finishing him off.

Ehito, now mere centimeters away from the blade aimed at him, realized what had happened. He was consumed by rage and threw his dagger. The man had expected this and dodged easily. But Ehito no longer cared. His body, both hands already extended and unusable, was at the mercy of the incoming blade.

Then—nothing.

Ehito had stopped the sword with his teeth. He bit down so hard that the blade cracked. After all, a katana wasn't built for durability. He fell to the ground, blood dripping from his mouth due to the shattered steel fragments, but he caught himself. He grabbed his dagger once more.

He had assumed that, being disarmed, the man would be weak. But he was wrong. The man was still incredibly strong—too strong. So, Ehito decided to stay back and wait for him to make the next move.

Yet, the man did not move. They both remained still.

Then, in an instant, the man launched forward, pushing off with the full strength of his legs. He was too fast—Ehito had noticed and tried to react, but the man reached him even quicker than he had anticipated. In desperation, Ehito ducked and rolled to the side, barely avoiding the sword.

Seeing that Ehito had dodged, the man lost his patience. He had had enough of wasting time fighting a mere high schooler from the slums. He thought about how, once he returned, everyone would mock him for struggling with such a simple mission. Even if he hadn't failed, in their eyes, struggling at all meant failure.

And worst of all, his opponent was just a 15-year-old boy. The others would never let him live it down.

Thinking about this, a wave of hatred erupted from him. Ehito sensed it and braced himself. But the man, now charging headfirst, was not like Ehito. He hadn't trained the same way. He didn't have the same abilities. And so, when he charged recklessly, he made hundreds of mistakes—leaving his body full of openings.

Ehito noticed this but didn't immediately exploit them. He hesitated. How could a man who had killed him thousands of times make such a blunder? But the man didn't correct his stance. The openings remained. That unsettled Ehito, but he didn't move. He knew that this was the result of blind rage.

He didn't care where that rage came from. What mattered was that it left openings—openings he could use to win.

One was close enough to be tempting. Ehito took the chance and aimed his dagger at it. Surprisingly, it worked. The blade sank deep into the man's upper back.

The man screamed in agony. But Ehito didn't care. He only wanted one thing—to take him down.

Without hesitation, he gripped his dagger tightly, slashed the air, and then sliced through the man's arms.

The man collapsed, bleeding profusely, writhing in unbearable pain. He wanted to die.

Ehito smiled