What should I do now? Kawao thought, feeling the increasingly hot aura emanating from Fetu.
Should I attack first?
Or should I wait and let him come to me?
...
Shortly after, he decided to make the first move.
Suddenly, he leaped at Fetu, ready to strike.
But Fetu didn’t move.
He just continued to glare at him darkly.
Undeterred, Kawao swung.
But he didn’t hit him.
Instead, he hit an invisible barrier so scorching hot that he immediately screamed and pulled his fist back.
He glanced at it.
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With just one blow, he had nearly burned his fist. He knew instantly that if he continued to fight like this, he wouldn’t be able to go on due to severe burns.
Fetu looked him straight in the eyes.
"My turn."
He rushed at Kawao.
Kawao could barely react in time and narrowly dodged a blow that burned a hole through a support beam, causing it to collapse.
"Now I’m serious! You’re as good as dead!" Fetu said, lifting half of the beam.
Shortly after, the beam in his hand began to burn and within seconds, turned to ashes.
But he still held something.
He now held a fiery replica of the beam in his hand.
"Unlike most other commanders, I don’t have my own weapons. Do you know why?... Because I can easily make my own!"
He swung his new weapon.
This time, Kawao couldn’t dodge in time.
But he managed to defend himself.
He quickly concentrated as much energy as possible into his arms, but the strength and heat were too much for him.
With a leap, he was thrown through the hole in the bar counter, crashing into the shelf behind it, which held the liquor.
Screaming in pain, almost stunned, he felt the unbearable agony of the burns on his arms, the alcohol running over his wounds, and the shards of glass from the spirits.
But Fetu didn’t wait for a moment.
He formed his hand into a finger gun and aimed at him.
With a "shot," a small fireball flew at Kawao and ignited an explosion upon impact, completely destroying the bar counter.
Fetu lowered his weapon.
"Rest in peace, you scumbag," he said, spitting on the shard- and debris-covered floor.