Mayweather hadn't even noticed how Arata had entered the octagonal cage, but he could already feel the immense pressure emanating from behind him. He swung his fist backward violently, but it met only empty air—the man who had been standing behind him had inexplicably vanished.
"Power, are you alright?" Arata's voice appeared behind her as he helped her up.
"The Great Me is fine, but my muscles feel like they have no strength left, like my body has been hollowed out."
Power remained spirited as ever, looking nothing like someone who had just taken a beating, but her arms simply wouldn't lift.
Arata felt the muscles on Power's arms and said slowly, "Your muscles have been torn. Drink some blood first; I'll deal with him." He bit his lip and fed her his blood.
The men below watched this scene, their expressions shifting as they reacted to the sight.
After drinking the blood, Power's body immediately returned to peak condition. Furthermore, Power could feel that Arata's blood was incredibly sweet—to a devil, this blood was a top-tier delicacy.
"I want more!! Give me a billion more." Power licked her lips, shouting impatiently.
"Power, your muscles have already recovered; there's no need to drink more."
"How did you get up here?" Mayweather didn't rush to attack, asking Arata instead. He wanted to understand this man—his movements just now were beyond human capability.
"Don't worry about how I got up here, but you are about to become a corpse that's been beaten to a pulp."
"Is that so? You're just as mysteriously confident as that girl." Mayweather set himself into an offensive stance.
"Master, I'll help too!!" Denji yelled from outside the cage, his hand already reaching for his starter cord.
"No need, he just contracted the Muscle Devil; there's no need for two of us."
Mayweather, who had been disdainful of Arata, suddenly looked surprised. "How did you know I contracted the Muscle Devil?"
"If this were a fair fight, I wouldn't intervene. But you've been using the Muscle Devil's power since the start of the fight. The Muscle Devil can control other people's muscles as well as its own. If I hadn't forbidden Power from using weapons, you wouldn't have been her match anyway."
"Exactly! The Great Me was just playing with you, but I felt myself getting weaker and weaker. So it was you messing with me!" Power, having recovered, jumped up and down.
"What!!"
"Mayweather actually contracted a devil?"
"What's a Muscle Devil?"
"Muscle... it must be for muscle reinforcement."
"No wonder Mayweather is so strong; if he contracted a devil, his strength makes total sense."
"Stop guessing. That 'ORA ORA' punch speed just now wasn't something a normal human could achieve."
The surrounding men whispered among themselves. The Boxing King's true level had been brought down from its pedestal.
"Mayweather, is everything he said true?" the rich man upstairs questioned.
"That's right, he's right. Do you weaklings even know what it means to be strong?" Mayweather didn't even care to explain; his body suddenly began to inflate. His triceps and biceps tripled in size. His latissimus dorsi and pectorals bulged instantly. He transformed from a muscular man into a "Muscle Titan."
This transformation left everyone present stunned. Then, they collectively bolted for the exits. After all, everyone fears devils—you see one, you run for your life.
BANG!!
But at that moment, all the surrounding doors were suddenly locked. The crowd trying to escape was trapped inside, pacing back and forth like ants on a hot pan. The most anxious were the rich men on the second and third floors. They had vast fortunes, luxury cars, and beautiful women; wherever they went, they were the stars of the crowd. But now, they had nowhere to hide, facing the tragedy of dying before they could spend their money.
"Everyone, don't be afraid. It's just a Muscle Devil; I can handle it in minutes. But I need you to hand over all the money you have to my apprentice. Only then will I save your lives."
"Is... is what you said true?" a rich man on the third floor asked. At this moment, money no longer mattered; life was the priority.
"I keep my word. Throw all the money down!"
At Arata's shout, the rich men above began tossing their money down. Mountains of US dollars tumbled through the air, landing like a heavy snowfall in the hall. The ground was quickly carpeted in cash, the thickness growing by the second.
"Denji, watch that crowd. Don't let them pick up my money."
Arata didn't forget to remind him. Denji responded by transforming into Chainsaw Man. Seeing the Chainsaw Devil blocking their path, no one dared to move toward the pile, no matter how much money was there.
"You also contracted a devil, right?" Mayweather asked.
"That's right." The moment he finished speaking, Arata transformed into Freddy and confronted him.
"Since we both contracted devils, let's work together against humanity. Don't kill each other."
"I say, do you really stop thinking of yourself as human just because you contracted a devil? Though, I suppose you were never fit to be human in the first place."
Swish!!
The next second, Arata appeared behind Mayweather. But Mayweather wasn't weak; he quickly spun around and braced Arata's arm, while his other hand landed a straight punch. His fist instantly pierced through Arata's body.
"This..."
The rich men upstairs had thought they were saved, but seeing Arata's body get punched through, panic returned to their faces.
"What's going on? Didn't he say he'd protect us?"
"He really is in league with that girl; just a braggart with no real skill."
"My god, we're going to die here."
"What are you panicking for? There's still a Chainsaw Man who turned into a devil."
"That chainsaw looks pretty scary, let's hope he can beat Mayweather."
"What are you dogs barking about? My master can't die." Hearing them doubt Arata, Denji spoke up.
"I thought you were stronger." Inside the cage, Mayweather bared his white teeth again.
But Arata replied, "It seems you didn't actually hit me."
Prompted by Arata, Mayweather quickly looked down and soon realized the anomaly. His fist had indeed passed through Arata's body, but it felt weightless—like hitting a puff of smoke.
"What... what is going on?"
Before Mayweather could figure it out, both of his arms were severed by Arata. Blood instantly splattered across the floor of the octagonal cage. The sudden reversal left the rich men upstairs stunned. They had thought Arata was finished, but the result was completely unexpected.
Inside the cage, Mayweather lay on the ground, struggling in agony. Arata picked up one of the arms and threw it out of the ring like a breast pad.
"Power, this guy is yours."
"No problem, let the Great Me treat him well."
Power dropped the act, taking off the hat on her head. As she did, everyone realized Power was also a devil. At first, they thought she was just wearing a horned hat, but those red horns were actually part of her body.
"Spare me!!"
Mayweather begged for his life, but Power wouldn't let him off. She used the blood on the ground to create two spiked brass knuckles and rained heavy punches down on Mayweather's face.
The first punch splattered blood on Power's face; Mayweather begged for mercy in pain.
With the second punch, Mayweather fell silent, though he was still alive.
With the third punch, his face was a mangled mess of flesh and blood.
She landed a fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh blow.
Mayweather's face was smashed into a bloody hole, and he died on the spot.
Arata found the electronic key to control the main gate on the floor. Once the door was opened, everyone poured out. No one wanted to stay a second longer. In no time, everyone had fled, leaving only Arata and his crew with a massive pile of dollars on the floor.
"Master, there's so much money on the floor."
"More than the money, you two better cover your eyes first."
Arata tore up his clothes and blindfolded both of them. But Power, ever curious, thought about secretly peeking by pulling up the blindfold, only to be met by Arata's merciless iron hand. Now, she didn't dare peek again.
After collecting the Muscle Devil's corpse, Arata felt a surge of strength throughout his body. Muscles could expand or shrink at will. Six-pack, four-pack—he could pick whatever he wanted. He could choose his chest size from A to D. It saved him years of buying protein powder.
"You can open your eyes now."
When the two removed their blindfolds, Arata had found a full-length mirror from somewhere and set it up against the wall.
"Come over and pick up the money. Throw it all at the mirror."
"Shouldn't we pack it up? Why throw it at a mirror?"
"I told you to throw it, so throw it."
After Arata said this, he went upstairs to watch TV. Denji and Power stayed below to pick up the cash. When they grabbed a stack of bills and threw them at the mirror, the money passed through the glass and vanished.
This scene left them in shock for the rest of the night.
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