"Alright, old man. Let's start."
Megumi didn't give Naobito a single extra second to prepare. He bent his knees, loading his calf muscles like steel springs, and unleashed the absorbed power of the Piercing Ox's linear acceleration.
BOOM!
The dirt ground beneath his boots detonated, sending a shower of earth blasting backward as Megumi launched forward at a speed that defied basic physics. In less than a microsecond, he closed the distance, his gray, Graphene-armored fist whistling through the air straight toward Naobito's face.
It was a terrifying, high-speed strike that would have instantly caved in the skull of any ordinary Grade 1 sorcerer.
Unfortunately for Megumi, Naobito Zenin was not an ordinary sorcerer.
Just as Megumi's fist was a fraction of an inch from caving in his nose, Naobito's figure flickered like a glitching television screen. He vanished into thin air, moving at an incredible, unnatural speed that Megumi's six-year-old eyes couldn't even track.
The hard truth was that at the end of the day, Megumi was still a six-year-old kid.
Sure, he had absorbed Mahoraga's raw power and stacked three different shikigami buffs, but he had only possessed these abilities for about five minutes! He hadn't properly adapted to his own absurd strength yet, nor did he have the decades of real-world combat muscle memory that a veteran like Naobito possessed.
This was literally the first proper, high-level martial arts fight of Megumi's life.
Before Megumi could even register that his punch had hit nothing but empty air, a sudden, whistling gust of wind blew past his right ear.
THWACK!
A heavy, bone-crunching elbow landed directly on the back of Megumi's head.
The sheer kinetic force blasted Megumi out of his linear dash, sending him flying downward like a skipped stone.
PLOW!
Megumi face-planted straight into the dirt arena, skidding across the ground for five full meters before coming to a complete stop, his small legs twitching in the air.
Silence fell over the training grounds.
Up in the stands, a few Zenin elders let out quiet exhales, nodding in approval. "As expected of the Clan Head. That brat might have crazy power, but he lacks experience."
Down in the pit, Megumi slowly sat up, spitting a clump of dirt out of his mouth.
Thanks to his Graphene armor and Mahoraga's passive durability buff, that heavy blow hadn't actually hurt at all. It didn't even leave a scratch on his gray skin. But from a purely psychological standpoint?
It was embarrassing as hell.
"You old bastard..." Megumi growled, his face twisting with irritation as he wiped the dirt off his nose. "I'm going to kick your ass."
Megumi pushed himself off the ground, ready to turn around and counter-attack. But the moment his back foot touched the floor, his entire body suddenly locked up.
Freeze!
Megumi's muscles refused to move. It felt like his entire existence had been forcibly converted into a flat, two-dimensional anime drawing suspended in time.
Projection Sorcery.
By touching Megumi, Naobito had enforced his clan's inherited technique onto him—dividing one second into 24 static frames. Because Megumi hadn't predetermined a 24-frame movement path, failing the rule caused him to freeze in place for a full, agonizing second!
"You're wide open, brat!" Naobito's cocky voice echoed right beside his ear.
BOOM!
A heavy right hook landed square on Megumi's cheek, rattling his frozen frame.
BOOM!
A ruthless left uppercut smashed under his chin.
BOOM!
A vicious knee strike hit him square in the chest.
Naobito was moving at top speed, weaving through his 24-frame projections like a martial arts deity, fully intending to keep this disrespectful brat locked in a permanent, infinite crowd-control loop until he begged for mercy.
"How's that, kid?!" Naobito laughed, pulling his right fist back, coating it in heavy cursed energy for a fourth strike. "Experience beats raw power every single day of the week—"
GRAB!
Naobito's sentence abruptly cut off.
His right fist froze mid-air, entirely halted by a rock-solid, gray-skinned hand that had clamped around his wrist like an iron handcuff.
Naobito's bloodshot eyes widened in disbelief.
"What the...?" Naobito stammered, staring at his pinned wrist. "You shouldn't be able to move! The frame-freeze lasts for a full second!"
Naobito frantically turned his head back toward the spot where he had just been beating Megumi up.
Standing over in the dirt was the frozen, 2D-framed figure of the six-year-old boy, still stuck in the middle of getting hit.
So then... who the hell was holding his hand right now?!
Naobito slowly turned his eyes back to the side. Standing right next to him was a second gray-skinned Megumi, glaring up at him with cold, murderous eyes.
"You old bastard..." the second Megumi muttered, his grip tightening until Naobito's wrist bones groaned under the pressure. "I was trying to have a nice, respectful man-to-man fight with you. But if you want to play dirty crowd-control hacks like a shameless thief... let me show you how real hacks work."
Naobito's heart skipped a beat. "Wait... don't tell me—"
POP!
Beside the second Megumi, a third Megumi stepped out of thin air.
POP! POP!
Two more Megumis materialized right behind Naobito.
Naobito blinked, rubbing his eyes furiously. Am I hallucinating?! Is the alcohol finally catching up to me?!
He wasn't hallucinating. The cloning didn't stop. It exploded exponentially!
4 Megumis... 8 Megumis... 16 Megumis... 32 Megumis!
In a matter of three seconds, the entire dirt training ground was completely swarmed by a terrifying army of identical, gray-skinned, Graphene-armored six-year-old brats!
A horrifying realization slammed into Naobito's brain like a runaway freight train.
Rabbit Escape!
The core trait of the Rabbit Escape shadow wasn't just speed or agility—it was infinite, rapid self-replication! When Megumi absorbed the Rabbit shadow into his own body, he didn't just inherit its reflexes. He inherited the ability to turn HIMSELF into a swarming plague!
"Can you... can you even copy an innate ability?!" Naobito yelled, his voice cracking with panic.
The only answer he received was thirty-two identical, pitch-black fists raised simultaneously into the air.
"Every single one of us is real, old man," thirty-two voices chimed in a terrifying, synchronized chorus. "Have fun."
Panicking for the first time in decades, Naobito desperately activated Projection Sorcery. His mind mapped out an intricate, hyper-speed 24-frame escape route leading toward the sky to break out of the encirclement.
He pushed off the ground, executing his 24-fps movement path.
Except...
Because the entire arena was densely packed with thirty-two high-speed Megumis, every single millimeter of Naobito's pre-programmed 24-frame path already had a gray-skinned brat standing there waiting for him!
BOOM!
A Megumi clone casually extended an arm, blocking Naobito's precise spatial path.
By colliding with an obstacle he hadn't accounted for in his 24-frame plan, Naobito broke his own technique's rule. The universe instantly penalized him—freezing the Clan Head of the Zenin family into a flat, 2D-framed picture mid-air!
"He's frozen!" one Megumi clone shouted.
"GET HIM!" thirty-one other Megumi clones roared in unison.
What followed next was a scene of such raw, unadulterated, one-sided violence that it permanently traumatized every single Zenin family member watching from the stands.
BOOM! BAM! THWACK! CRACK!
The swarm of gray-skinned six-year-olds dogpiled on top of the frozen old man like an army of angry army ants.
They dragged Naobito out of the air and slammed him onto the dirt floor. One Megumi was landing rapid-fire jab combos on his ribs. Another Megumi was aggressively soccer-kicking him in the liver. Two clones were holding his legs while a third clone stomped relentlessly on his chest!
"Take that! Playing frame tricks on a kid, huh?!" STOMP!
"Face-plant me into the dirt, will you?!" KICK!
"Feel the power of youth, you old geezer!" PUNCH!
If an innocent civilian had randomly walked past the Zenin estate at this exact moment and peered over the wall, they would have witnessed a scene straight out of the deepest pit of Hell.
A helpless, seventy-year-old senior citizen lying flat on his back in the dirt, crying out in agony as a pack of thirty identical, evil demonic children mercilessly mobbed, kicked, and beat him within an inch of his life.
Hell was empty, and the little devils were dancing in the Zenin courtyard!
"MY RIBS! MY SPINE! STOP! STOP KICKING MY FACE!" Naobito's muffled, desperate screams echoed out from beneath the mountain of small, gray fists and boots. "I ADMIT DEFEAT! I ADMIT DEFEAT! I SURRENDER, YOU LITTLE MONSTERS! STOP BEATING ME!"
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