Chapter 514: The Hooded Man (1)
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(A.N: try reading this chapter while listening to "No Good" from The Prodigy)
Erik found himself amid the chaos, right in front of the grand building, at the epicenter of the simulated revolt. His gaze was fixed on the figure hidden beneath the cloak and hood, the only genuine human in this robotic tableau.
Was he aware of Erik's presence? Did his gaze light up in recognition, or did he pretend not to notice him because of his role? Erik pondered the question as he stood amid the chaos, a metallic guard amid a sea of rebellious robots.
The man in question acted as an agitator, his energy fueling the robotic revolt. While he did so, Erik's convincing performance kept him concealed. However, Erik knew better than to underestimate his opponent.
The young man moved in the sun's harsh light amidst the whirl of colors and the hum of rebellion. He inched through the chaos, cloaked in his stolen disguise, his gaze fixed on the man hidden beneath the cloak and hood. Unbeknownst to him, he had become the focal point of Erik's mission.
The metallic guards launched their assault on the agitators as the fake revolt escalated into a more violent altercation. Erik spotted an opportunity among the din. He hurtled himself towards the cloaked man like a falcon, taking advantage of the chaos around him.
The battle was a choreographed dance of chaos and rebellion. Robots disguised as city guards moved with mechanical precision in an attempt to put down the phony uprising.
Their hard, metallic bodies collided with the agitated swarm of robot agitators. The air quickly filled with a constant hum of artificial voices, punctuated by the sharp crack of plastic on metal as the guards lashed out.
The protestors, a swarm of robots dressed in commoner garb, met the onslaught with the zeal of human defiance. Their robotic screams echoed in the stone arena's streets, adding to the mounting tension.
Robotic guards moved forward in unison as if guided by a single mind. They wielded batons and shields, the latter reflecting a harsh glare from the sunlight. Protesters stood firm against them, forming a ragged line that wavered but never broke.
The location had been transformed into a battleground, a stage for this fabricated civil unrest. Erik maneuvered, a single player in this orchestrated commotion, ready to carry out his rescue mission.
The young man was composed and focused. He didn't use his brain crystal power because he knew the man, his target, was significantly weaker because of how the test was thought to function. So far, he'd relied on his physical prowess and quick thinking, and he was confident it would be enough.
The distance between them rapidly diminished, and soon, Erik was within striking distance. The man remained engrossed in his role, stirring the crowd and seemingly unaware of the impending threat. Erik prepared to strike at that critical moment and fight against the man.
The hooded man was steeped in the throes of agitation, his arms whipping the air as he roused the robotic mob. It wasn't until the last second, the sliver of a heartbeat before impact, that he sensed Erik's approach. His eyes widened beneath the hood's shadow, and he handled his axe, which was sharp enough to cleave bones. He swung it, but Erik easily avoided it. The man was too slow for him; there was no need to analyze him because he was most likely at the o level.
Erik thought about the opponent.
Erik stood before the man, his posture relaxed, as if he was a bystander rather than a participant in this tense scene. The man's grip on the handle of his axe tightened as he growled low in his throat. His arm muscles tightened as he swung his weapon with all his might.
As the blade arced through the air, glinting ominously in the light, the world seemed to slow down. The razor-sharp edge sped towards Erik, threatening to rip flesh and shatter bone. On the other hand, he remained unfazed, his calm demeanor a disturbing contrast to the impending violence.
Erik moved as the axe whistled through the air, a whisper of death. His agility and reflexes outmatched the speed of the descending opponent's weapon, and he avoided the lethal strike with a simple sidestep. His movements were smooth, fluid, and precise, almost like a ballet dancer in a rehearsal.
The axe bit into the empty air where Erik had been standing just a moment before, its promise of carnage unfulfilled. The hooded man's swing continued on its path, guided by momentum, but encountered no resistance or impact. However, the man maintained his balance and pursued Erik to attack.
Erik then circled his opponent, staying just out of reach. The man pursued him, his movements becoming more desperate and frantic by the second. Erik, however, was always one step ahead, no matter how fast or aggressive he became.
In the meantime, frustration flashed across the man's face as he failed to land yet another blow on Erik. His attacks became more erratic and uncontrollable.
On the other hand, Erik avoided them all, moving through the chaos with a dancer's grace and a warrior's precision. Each swing, each lunge was met with a quick sidestep, a duck, or a subtle shift in stance that kept him safe.
The fight raged on, with the man unleashing a barrage of attacks while Erik moved like water around them. And all the while, the audience watched, their excitement growing with each avoided blow, each narrowly averted strike.
They watched as Erik effortlessly navigated the fight, a calm in the storm of the man's desperation. They saw him as a predator teasing its prey, patiently waiting for the right moment to strike. Erik's agility and prowess were fully displayed, reminding everyone why he was the Mercenary Guild's new sensation, an enigma called Erik Kay.
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(A.N: try reading this chapter while listening to "No Good" from The Prodigy)
Erik found himself amid the chaos, right in front of the grand building, at the epicenter of the simulated revolt. His gaze was fixed on the figure hidden beneath the cloak and hood, the only genuine human in this robotic tableau.
Was he aware of Erik's presence? Did his gaze light up in recognition, or did he pretend not to notice him because of his role? Erik pondered the question as he stood amid the chaos, a metallic guard amid a sea of rebellious robots.
The man in question acted as an agitator, his energy fueling the robotic revolt. While he did so, Erik's convincing performance kept him concealed. However, Erik knew better than to underestimate his opponent.
The young man moved in the sun's harsh light amidst the whirl of colors and the hum of rebellion. He inched through the chaos, cloaked in his stolen disguise, his gaze fixed on the man hidden beneath the cloak and hood. Unbeknownst to him, he had become the focal point of Erik's mission.
The metallic guards launched their assault on the agitators as the fake revolt escalated into a more violent altercation. Erik spotted an opportunity among the din. He hurtled himself towards the cloaked man like a falcon, taking advantage of the chaos around him.
The battle was a choreographed dance of chaos and rebellion. Robots disguised as city guards moved with mechanical precision in an attempt to put down the phony uprising.
Their hard, metallic bodies collided with the agitated swarm of robot agitators. The air quickly filled with a constant hum of artificial voices, punctuated by the sharp crack of plastic on metal as the guards lashed out.
The protestors, a swarm of robots dressed in commoner garb, met the onslaught with the zeal of human defiance. Their robotic screams echoed in the stone arena's streets, adding to the mounting tension.
Robotic guards moved forward in unison as if guided by a single mind. They wielded batons and shields, the latter reflecting a harsh glare from the sunlight. Protesters stood firm against them, forming a ragged line that wavered but never broke.
The location had been transformed into a battleground, a stage for this fabricated civil unrest. Erik maneuvered, a single player in this orchestrated commotion, ready to carry out his rescue mission.
The young man was composed and focused. He didn't use his brain crystal power because he knew the man, his target, was significantly weaker because of how the test was thought to function. So far, he'd relied on his physical prowess and quick thinking, and he was confident it would be enough.
The distance between them rapidly diminished, and soon, Erik was within striking distance. The man remained engrossed in his role, stirring the crowd and seemingly unaware of the impending threat. Erik prepared to strike at that critical moment and fight against the man.
The hooded man was steeped in the throes of agitation, his arms whipping the air as he roused the robotic mob. It wasn't until the last second, the sliver of a heartbeat before impact, that he sensed Erik's approach. His eyes widened beneath the hood's shadow, and he handled his axe, which was sharp enough to cleave bones. He swung it, but Erik easily avoided it. The man was too slow for him; there was no need to analyze him because he was most likely at the o level.
Erik thought about the opponent.
Erik stood before the man, his posture relaxed, as if he was a bystander rather than a participant in this tense scene. The man's grip on the handle of his axe tightened as he growled low in his throat. His arm muscles tightened as he swung his weapon with all his might.
As the blade arced through the air, glinting ominously in the light, the world seemed to slow down. The razor-sharp edge sped towards Erik, threatening to rip flesh and shatter bone. On the other hand, he remained unfazed, his calm demeanor a disturbing contrast to the impending violence.
Erik moved as the axe whistled through the air, a whisper of death. His agility and reflexes outmatched the speed of the descending opponent's weapon, and he avoided the lethal strike with a simple sidestep. His movements were smooth, fluid, and precise, almost like a ballet dancer in a rehearsal.
The axe bit into the empty air where Erik had been standing just a moment before, its promise of carnage unfulfilled. The hooded man's swing continued on its path, guided by momentum, but encountered no resistance or impact. However, the man maintained his balance and pursued Erik to attack.
Erik then circled his opponent, staying just out of reach. The man pursued him, his movements becoming more desperate and frantic by the second. Erik, however, was always one step ahead, no matter how fast or aggressive he became.
In the meantime, frustration flashed across the man's face as he failed to land yet another blow on Erik. His attacks became more erratic and uncontrollable.
On the other hand, Erik avoided them all, moving through the chaos with a dancer's grace and a warrior's precision. Each swing, each lunge was met with a quick sidestep, a duck, or a subtle shift in stance that kept him safe.
The fight raged on, with the man unleashing a barrage of attacks while Erik moved like water around them. And all the while, the audience watched, their excitement growing with each avoided blow, each narrowly averted strike.
They watched as Erik effortlessly navigated the fight, a calm in the storm of the man's desperation. They saw him as a predator teasing its prey, patiently waiting for the right moment to strike. Erik's agility and prowess were fully displayed, reminding everyone why he was the Mercenary Guild's new sensation, an enigma called Erik Kay.
A.N: try reading this chapter while listening to "No Good" from The ProdigyErik found himself amid the chaos, right in front of the grand building, at the epicenter of the simulated revolt. His gaze was fixed on the figure hidden beneath the cloak and hood, the only genuine human in this robotic tableau.Was he aware of Erik's presence? Did his gaze light up in recognition, or did he pretend not to notice him because of his role? Erik pondered the question as he stood amid the chaos, a metallic guard amid a sea of rebellious robots.The man in question acted as an agitator, his energy fueling the robotic revolt. While he did so, Erik's convincing performance kept him concealed. However, Erik knew better than to underestimate his opponent.The young man moved in the sun's harsh light amidst the whirl of colors and the hum of rebellion. He inched through the chaos, cloaked in his stolen disguise, his gaze fixed on the man hidden beneath the cloak and hood. Unbeknownst to him, he had become the focal point of Erik's mission.The metallic guards launched their assault on the agitators as the fake revolt escalated into a more violent altercation. Erik spotted an opportunity among the din. He hurtled himself towards the cloaked man like a falcon, taking advantage of the chaos around him.The battle was a choreographed dance of chaos and rebellion. Robots disguised as city guards moved with mechanical precision in an attempt to put down the phony uprising. Their hard, metallic bodies collided with the agitated swarm of robot agitators. The air quickly filled with a constant hum of artificial voices, punctuated by the sharp crack of plastic on metal as the guards lashed out.The protestors, a swarm of robots dressed in commoner garb, met the onslaught with the zeal of human defiance. Their robotic screams echoed in the stone arena's streets, adding to the mounting tension.Robotic guards moved forward in unison as if guided by a single mind. They wielded batons and shields, the latter reflecting a harsh glare from the sunlight. Protesters stood firm against them, forming a ragged line that wavered but never broke.The location had been transformed into a battleground, a stage for this fabricated civil unrest. Erik maneuvered, a single player in this orchestrated commotion, ready to carry out his rescue mission.The young man was composed and focused. He didn't use his brain crystal power because he knew the man, his target, was significantly weaker because of how the test was thought to function. So far, he'd relied on his physical prowess and quick thinking, and he was confident it would be enough.The distance between them rapidly diminished, and soon, Erik was within striking distance. The man remained engrossed in his role, stirring the crowd and seemingly unaware of the impending threat. Erik prepared to strike at that critical moment and fight against the man.The hooded man was steeped in the throes of agitation, his arms whipping the air as he roused the robotic mob. It wasn't until the last second, the sliver of a heartbeat before impact, that he sensed Erik's approach. His eyes widened beneath the hood's shadow, and he handled his axe, which was sharp enough to cleave bones. He swung it, but Erik easily avoided it. The man was too slow for him; there was no need to analyze him because he was most likely at the o level. Erik thought about the opponent.Erik stood before the man, his posture relaxed, as if he was a bystander rather than a participant in this tense scene. The man's grip on the handle of his axe tightened as he growled low in his throat. His arm muscles tightened as he swung his weapon with all his might.As the blade arced through the air, glinting ominously in the light, the world seemed to slow down. The razor-sharp edge sped towards Erik, threatening to rip flesh and shatter bone. On the other hand, he remained unfazed, his calm demeanor a disturbing contrast to the impending violence.Erik moved as the axe whistled through the air, a whisper of death. His agility and reflexes outmatched the speed of the descending opponent's weapon, and he avoided the lethal strike with a simple sidestep. His movements were smooth, fluid, and precise, almost like a ballet dancer in a rehearsal.The axe bit into the empty air where Erik had been standing just a moment before, its promise of carnage unfulfilled. The hooded man's swing continued on its path, guided by momentum, but encountered no resistance or impact. However, the man maintained his balance and pursued Erik to attack. Erik then circled his opponent, staying just out of reach. The man pursued him, his movements becoming more desperate and frantic by the second. Erik, however, was always one step ahead, no matter how fast or aggressive he became.In the meantime, frustration flashed across the man's face as he failed to land yet another blow on Erik. His attacks became more erratic and uncontrollable. On the other hand, Erik avoided them all, moving through the chaos with a dancer's grace and a warrior's precision. Each swing, each lunge was met with a quick sidestep, a duck, or a subtle shift in stance that kept him safe.The fight raged on, with the man unleashing a barrage of attacks while Erik moved like water around them. And all the while, the audience watched, their excitement growing with each avoided blow, each narrowly averted strike. They watched as Erik effortlessly navigated the fight, a calm in the storm of the man's desperation. They saw him as a predator teasing its prey, patiently waiting for the right moment to strike. Erik's agility and prowess were fully displayed, reminding everyone why he was the Mercenary Guild's new sensation, an enigma called Erik Kay.
