A/N: Don't forget to check out my original novel: Can I Magic Please. It's like really good. 😉
ANYWHOOO. ENJOY THE CHAPTER
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The referee raised his hand.
The entire stadium held its breath.
Kastro stood tall and composed.
Yuzuki stood opposite him, one hand tucked casually into his pocket, his small frame relaxed beneath the bright arena lights.
The size difference was almost comical.
And yet not a single person in the stadium believed Yuzuki was at a disadvantage.
The referee slashed his hand downward.
"BEGIN!"
---
Kastro vanished first.
CRACK!
The arena floor shattered beneath his feet.
He crossed the distance in an instant, his body moving with the efficiency of a lifelong martial artist.
A straight right punch shot toward Yuzuki's face like a cannon shell.
Yuzuki tilted his head.
The fist grazed his sunglasses.
Kastro's left knee rose immediately.
Yuzuki pivoted.
The knee missed by centimeters.
Kastro spun.
Backfist.
Elbow.
Low kick.
Each strike flowed seamlessly into the next.
No wasted motion.
No hesitation.
Every attack carried years of refinement.
Yuzuki's eyes narrowed behind his glasses.
'His fundamentals are incredible.'
He stepped backward.
Then sideways.
Then forward.
Systema met traditional martial arts.
Fluidity met discipline.
Improvisation met structure.
The crowd exploded.
"They're so fast!"
"I can barely follow them!"
"Kastro is actually being pushed back!"
On the VIP balcony, Bisky smirked.
"Good."
Wing adjusted his glasses.
"They're perfectly matched in hand-to-hand combat."
Zushi was practically shaking.
"Yuzuki-san is amazing!"
---
Down below, the exchange intensified.
Kastro's fist shot forward.
Yuzuki parried.
Kastro spun and delivered a heel kick.
Yuzuki ducked under it.
Yuzuki stepped inside and struck Kastro's ribs with a sharp body shot.
THUD!
Kastro grunted.
But his counter came immediately.
A palm thrust.
Yuzuki crossed his arms and slid backward across the floor.
His shoes carved two lines in the arena stone.
Yuzuki smiled.
"Not bad."
Kastro returned the smile.
"You too."
The two rushed each other again.
BOOM!
Fist collided with fist.
The impact sent a shockwave rippling through the ring.
Yuzuki ducked under a hook and drove his shoulder into Kastro's torso.
Kastro was pushed backward several meters.
But instead of losing balance, he used the momentum to flip backward, planting both feet against the wall of the arena.
For a single moment, he stood horizontally on the wall.
Then launched himself like a missile.
Yuzuki's eyes widened slightly.
'Nice.'
Kastro descended from above with an axe kick.
Yuzuki rolled aside.
The kick smashed the arena floor apart.
Chunks of concrete flew into the crowd barriers.
Yuzuki grabbed one of the larger chunks and hurled it.
Kastro shattered it midair with a single punch.
Then the two collided again.
Punch.
Kick.
Elbow.
Palm.
Sweep.
Counter.
The choreography became almost too fast to comprehend.
Their bodies blurred.
The arena trembled.
The crowd screamed with every exchange.
---
In the stands, Shizuku watched with her usual blank smile.
"He's stronger."
Pakunoda nodded.
"Much stronger."
Shalnark whistled.
"That kid is absurd."
Chrollo rested his chin on his hand.
His eyes never left Yuzuki.
"…And he's still holding back."
Machi folded her arms.
"He's learning during the fight."
Wing heard that from a few seats away and quietly agreed.
Every exchange sharpened Yuzuki's movements.
Every strike made him more precise.
More dangerous.
Like a blade being honed in real time.
Kastro understood it too.
Which was exactly why he decided to end this quickly.
He exhaled deeply.
His aura condensed around his right arm.
His fingers curled like claws.
The shape.
The stance.
The predatory intent.
Even the crowd felt the danger.
Kastro lunged forward.
"TIGER BITE FIST!"
ROOOOAR!
The strike tore through the air with such force that it sounded like a beast roaring.
His hand shot toward Yuzuki's throat with brutal speed.
A killing blow.
The audience gasped.
Yuzuki's pupils contracted.
At the last possible instant—
He slipped sideways.
The clawed hand passed inches from his neck.
A few strands of his white hair drifted to the ground.
Kastro landed and turned sharply.
Yuzuki stood a few feet away.
Perfectly unharmed.
Then Yuzuki smiled.
"That's quite the technique."
Before Kastro could respond—
Yuzuki lowered his stance.
Aura flowed to his arm.
His fingers curled identically.
Every angle.
Every breath.
Every minute detail.
Exactly the same.
Kastro's eyes widened.
"No way…"
Yuzuki lunged.
"TIGER BITE FIST!"
ROOOOAR!
The exact same technique tore across the arena.
Kastro barely managed to block in time.
BOOM!
The impact launched him backward across the ring.
He skidded to a stop, his arms numb.
The entire stadium went silent.
Absolute silence.
Kastro stared at Yuzuki in disbelief.
"I spent months developing that technique…"
Yuzuki smiled innocently.
"Thanks."
Behind his sunglasses, Yuzuki thought quietly.
'Thank you, Six Eyes.'
He had seen every microscopic movement.
The precise pattern of muscle activation.
Aura distribution.
Breathing.
Weight transfer.
Everything.
And simply reproduced it.
'So in theory…'
'Any non-Hatsu technique can be copied perfectly.'
He tilted his head slightly.
'Maybe even Hatsu.'
'Though I've never tested it.'
Kastro exhaled slowly.
Then smiled.
There was no anger in his face.
Only excitement.
"So that's how talented you really are."
His aura began to rise.
Sharper.
Heavier.
More dangerous.
"Then I suppose…"
He raised his hand.
And another Kastro stepped out from beside him.
Perfect.
Identical.
The crowd erupted.
"THERE ARE TWO OF HIM!"
"What is that?!"
"Is it an illusion?!"
Wing narrowed his eyes.
"Kastro's Nen ability."
Bisky clicked her tongue.
"Doppelganger."
The two Kastros stood side by side.
Both in identical stances.
Both radiating killing intent.
Kastro smiled.
"It seems…"
"…I'll have to get serious."
Two Kastro stood in the arena.
The crowd erupted into pandemonium.
"WHICH ONE IS REAL?!"
"THAT'S INSANE!"
"YUZUKI IS IN TROUBLE!"
Down below, Yuzuki adjusted his sunglasses calmly.
His eyes moved between both opponents.
'Conjuration and Manipulation.'
'A complete duplicate.'
He exhaled softly.
'That's an incredible amount of effort for a natural Enhancer.'
Then he smiled.
'What a waste.'
The two Kastros moved simultaneously.
BOOM!
They shot forward from opposite directions.
One attacked high.
The other attacked low.
Yuzuki ducked beneath a hook, pivoted around a sweeping kick, and drove his elbow into one Kastro's ribs.
The body dispersed into aura.
Fake.
The real Kastro appeared instantly from behind.
Palm strike.
Yuzuki twisted.
The attack grazed his shoulder.
Kastro followed with a spinning kick.
Yuzuki blocked, but the impact sent him sliding backward across the arena floor.
Kastro did not relent.
His clone reappeared.
Then three angles of attack in rapid succession.
Punch.
Kick.
Feint.
Counter.
The pace skyrocketed.
The arena floor cracked under their movements.
Chunks of stone exploded with every missed blow.
The audience could no longer follow.
All they saw were flashes of white hair and Kastro's duplicated form colliding like thunder.
In the stands, Zushi gripped the railing.
"This is incredible!"
Wing's eyes remained narrowed.
"Kastro is forcing Yuzuki to process multiple combat vectors simultaneously."
Bisky smirked.
"And Yuzuki is loving it."
Indeed, Yuzuki's lips had curled into a grin.
His body flowed effortlessly.
Every feint.
Every angle.
Every shift in weight.
He was adapting in real time.
Learning.
Evolving.
And now—
He began using Blue.
A subtle distortion formed in front of Kastro.
The real Kastro's footing shifted unexpectedly.
His torso lurched forward involuntarily.
Yuzuki stepped in.
CRACK!
A short punch hammered into his sternum.
Kastro coughed blood and stumbled backward.
The clone attacked from behind.
Yuzuki snapped his fingers.
Blue dragged the clone slightly off-course.
Its punch missed by centimeters.
Yuzuki spun and drove a heel kick into its head.
The clone dissolved.
The crowd screamed.
"WHAT WAS THAT?!"
"HE PULLED HIM!"
"THAT'S NOT NORMAL!"
The fight exploded across the arena.
Kastro launched Yuzuki through a wall.
Yuzuki rebounded off the debris and returned with a flying knee.
Kastro blocked and both crashed through the boundary railing.
They landed in the lower spectator section.
Concrete shattered.
Seats exploded.
Fans scrambled away screaming.
Yuzuki ducked under a punch and slammed Kastro into a row of chairs.
Metal bent like paper.
Kastro's clone appeared overhead.
Both versions attacked simultaneously.
Yuzuki thrust out his hand.
Blue yanked a support beam loose from the ceiling.
The beam swung like a pendulum and smashed through the clone.
The false body vanished in sparks of aura.
Kastro used the distraction to land a brutal uppercut.
Yuzuki was launched back toward the arena.
He flipped in midair and landed lightly.
Sliding backward.
Shoes scraping.
Smoke curling around his feet.
Kastro leapt back into the ring.
Breathing heavily.
Blood ran from his mouth.
But his eyes were burning.
Yuzuki rolled his shoulders.
A bruise had formed beneath his shirt.
He smiled.
"You're strong."
Kastro wiped blood from his lips.
"So are you."
High in the stands, Shizuku's blank smile widened slightly.
"He's having fun."
Pakunoda smiled.
"That might be the most expressive I've ever seen you."
Chrollo watched intently.
"He learns faster than anyone I've seen in years."
Kastro knew he was reaching his limit.
His clone flickered.
His breathing was ragged.
And still—
Yuzuki continued growing.
Stronger.
Sharper.
More dangerous.
There was only one option left.
Kastro planted both feet.
Aura erupted around him like a blazing inferno.
The entire stadium felt the pressure.
Wing's eyes widened.
"He's using it."
Bisky folded her arms.
"Good. Let's see if Yuzuki can handle it."
Kastro's right hand transformed into a predatory claw.
His aura compressed until the air itself trembled.
The clone merged back into his body.
Every ounce of his remaining strength focused into one strike.
Kastro roared.
"TRUE TIGER BITE!"
ROOOOOOOAR!
He vanished.
The attack came faster than anything before.
A single decisive killing blow.
The audience stood as one.
Yuzuki's Six Eyes saw everything.
The aura.
The muscle contractions.
The trajectory.
The intent.
He raised two fingers calmly.
"Nen Technique Reversal…"
A crimson sphere condensed before his fingertips.
The atmosphere warped violently.
Veteran Nen users stiffened.
"Red."
BOOOOOOM!
The repulsive force detonated point-blank.
Kastro's claw collided with the blast.
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
Every bone in his attacking hand shattered instantly.
Then the force hurled him backward.
He crashed to his knees in the center of the arena.
His right arm hung limp and twisted unnaturally.
The crowd fell silent.
Kastro panted heavily.
Sweat and blood dripped onto the shattered stone.
His vision blurred.
And through the dust—
Yuzuki walked forward.
Slowly.
Calmly.
His white hair swayed in the lingering wind.
Kastro looked up.
And smiled faintly.
"…You win."
But Yuzuki was already moving.
BOOM!
A perfectly straight punch.
No flourish.
No wasted motion.
Just pure precision and force.
His fist crashed into Kastro's chest.
The impact blasted Kastro across the ring like a cannonball.
He struck the far wall and collapsed unconscious.
Silence.
Absolute silence.
Then the referee raised his hand.
"WINNER… YUZUKI!"
And the entire arena exploded.
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