Chapter 24: The Power of the Nine Guardian Pillars

Amid what had felt like a thrilling game to Clive—where he danced through waves of thugs with graceful lethality—a deep, booming voice suddenly cut through the symphony of groans and broken bones.

"STOP!!!"

The voice was cold, commanding, and filled with lethal authority. It came from the now-wide-open main gate. There, with the setting sun behind him, stood a massive figure—his silhouette dark and imposing. His long coat flapped dramatically in the wind that had suddenly picked up.

As the man stepped into the courtyard, an overwhelming killing aura rolled forward like a tidal wave. Unlike the chaotic, scattered aura of the thugs earlier, this one was focused, razor-sharp, and deadly.

Clive immediately felt the pressure of the man's Tension—even from more than twenty meters away. Reflexively, he cloaked himself in a thin layer of Cure Tension, the same psychic shield that had worked so well earlier. But this time, under the assault of the man's Blue Tension, Clive's green shield vibrated violently, as if about to crack. It failed to fully neutralize the suffocating bloodlust that bore down on him.

Damn... it's not strong enough, Clive thought, retreating a few steps to lessen the impact.

With every step the man took, the oppressive aura intensified, as though the earth itself was bending to his will. Clive realized with certainty: this wasn't the leader he'd spoken to earlier. This was the real predator.

To maintain his balance against the pressure, Clive unleashed his own Blue Tension.

WHOOSH!

Two mighty blue auras clashed in the middle of the courtyard. A massive windstorm erupted, swirling dust and dry leaves into a chaotic vortex. The thugs lying on the ground moaned louder, terrorized by the clash of invisible forces.

The man finally stopped five meters from Clive. His aura now loomed even larger than before.

Clive hadn't felt pressure like this since leaving the Heavenly Temple.

Not even Nelson's killer intent could compare.

The man's voice was deep, rumbling like distant thunder.

"I admit it—you're more than just impressive, kid. To withstand my aura... you've got a solid backbone."

"And you're more than just a common debt collector," Clive replied, narrowing his eyes.

"My name is Breaker, one of the Nine Guardian Pillars of Don Decker Salvatore's underground empire," the man declared. "And I'm here to finish this job."

"Thanks for the introduction, Breaker…"

WHOOSH!

Before Clive could finish his sentence, Breaker vanished—his massive body launching forward with explosive speed, the ground beneath his feet erupting from the force.

He appeared in front of Clive in an instant.

Clive didn't have time to dodge.

A punch infused with a devastating surge of concentrated Blue Tension slammed into his stomach.

BLAM!!

Clive's world went white. The air was knocked violently from his lungs.

He felt his ribs buckle, maybe even fracture, as he was hurled backward, crashing hard into the manicured lawn with a sickening thud. The metallic taste of blood immediately filled his mouth.

"CLIVE!!!" Rossa screamed in panic from the second-floor balcony.

Breaker tilted his head up, looking at her, and gave a wicked grin.

"Don't worry, sweetheart," he said, his voice loud enough to carry.

"I'll return your little toy in a minute. I just can't promise it'll still be in one piece. Hahaha!"

Clive coughed, blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth. He struggled to rise, his breath ragged.

Damn... he's strong.

That punch wasn't just physical—it disrupted my internal flow of energy. This guy... he's no joke.

"That was just a lesson for you, boy," Breaker said as he slowly approached.

"Don't act cocky in front of me, or I'll make you feel pain worse than death itself."

Clive stood up slowly, wiping the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand.

He stared at Breaker—his eyes devoid of fear, glowing instead with a growing inner fire.

He chuckled—a raspy, blood-tinged laugh.

"Hahahaha... Is that all you've got, Breaker?" he taunted.

"I expected more from Don Decker's right hand than cheap punches. Come on... entertain me a little more."

Breaker froze, Clive's mocking laugh kindling his rage.

"You asked for it."

This time, Clive moved.

ZRRRT!

He became a black blur, flashing across the courtyard.

In the blink of an eye, he was face-to-face with Breaker.

Without hesitation, he twisted mid-air, unleashing a vicious spinning kick.

He condensed all his Blue Tension—not as psychic pressure, but as pure kinetic shockwave energy concentrated around his leg.

The air cracked violently around the strike.

Seeing the oncoming blow, Breaker quickly crossed his massive arms in front of his face to block.

KABOOM!!

A deafening sonic boom split the air as Clive's kick collided with Breaker's guard.

This was no ordinary hit.

It was the clash of two titanic forces.

Breaker didn't go flying, but the raw impact forced him to slide backward across the grass—his boots carving deep trenches in the once-pristine lawn.

He finally came to a halt after slamming into a stone bench—shattering it into rubble.

BRAKKK!

Breaker lowered his arms slowly.

His massive forearms were trembling—bruised and bluish.

He could feel a stabbing pain deep in the bone, as if something had cracked.

The ache pulsed through his entire body.

What the hell is this kid...?

Breaker stared at Clive in disbelief.

His aura doesn't feel that powerful, but that strike... it was insanely focused. Lethal.

This isn't just brute strength. He's blending tension control with elite physical technique. A perfect hybrid...

"Get up," Clive said, his voice as cold as ice.

"This is nothing. I've still got a few more things to show you."

Breaker slowly rose, ignoring the pain in his arms.

He rolled his neck until it cracked.

His sadistic grin returned.

"You're good, kid. You've just earned my full attention And now, prepare to die here.."

Clive smirked.

"Good. Because the warm-up... is over."

The two now stood face-to-face in the center of a courtyard reduced to ruin,

their blue auras surging more violently than ever—

ready for the true second round to begin.