I had completely forgotten about my skill Painter's Eye. And now, right when I didn’t want to go overboard, it decided to activate.

I’d planned to go easy on these brats—just rough them up a little, give them something to cry about to their spoiled parents. But now my skill was practically whispering in my ear: “Oh no, don’t hold back. Pulverize them. Make it art.”

Thankfully, there weren’t any maids or guards around to witness the carnage. If anyone snitched on me, I’d be in deeper trouble than a rat in a snake pit.

“Little rascal,” the noble brat sneered, “Do you intend to play this game with someone you know nothing about? Clearly, your commoner parents failed to teach you any manners.”

Oh, please. Spare me the monologue.

I caught sight of a pattern on one of his lackeys—the one that looked like he’d been hitting the gym, or maybe just eating his feelings. He was twitchy, too aggressive compared to the rest of them. Brandt always told me that the loud, punch-first types were the easiest to take down. And Brandt? He never lied about stuff like this.

Fine, I’d make this quick. After all, I didn’t want to miss dinner.

Finally, the aggressive kid stepped forward, his wooden sword raised. “You scared, aren’t you? All talk, no guts,” he sneered, swinging his sword at me with all the grace of a drunk farmer chopping wood.

Then I saw it—a blue brushstroke appeared right in the center of his gravity, spreading down to his knees and legs.

[Weak Point Determined]

Target: Center of gravity.

Solution: Sweep the legs or strike the knees to destabilize.

Ah, Painter’s Eye. You beautiful, overpowered skill, you. Aggressive types like this were basically custom-made for it. So predictable, so... useful.

“Thanks for playing,” I muttered under my breath, sidestepping his wild swing. The move caught him—and his two backup dancers in the back—completely off guard. They stared, wide-eyed, as if I’d just teleported.

Before he could react, I shifted to his blind spot and rushed in. With one quick strike to his legs—

PLAKK!

“Aaaaghhh!” he howled, grabbing at his legs as he hit the hard ground.

[Weak Point Successfully Targeted]

Status: Downed.

Efficiency: 100%.

Next up in the lineup was the nervous one. You know the type—the kid who looks like he’s regretting every life choice that led him to this moment. If there’s an aggressive one in every group, there’s always a weak-hearted counterpart to balance things out.

[Weak Point Determining]

[Analyzing...]

He stood frozen, probably hoping I’d make the first move. He didn’t even try to fake confidence; his eyes screamed, Please don’t hit me too hard. Honestly, I almost felt bad for the kid.

“Y-you commoner!” he suddenly shouted, his voice cracking under the weight of his own bravado. Cute. Too bad it wasn’t going to help him.

[Weak Point Determined]

Target: Lower body or sides.

Note: Fearful opponents tend to overprotect their face and upper body, leaving their legs and sides wide open.

Well, thanks for the analysis. Not that I needed it—I could’ve figured that out just by looking at him. Still, I appreciated the confirmation.

“Alright, buddy,” I muttered under my breath, stepping forward with a faint smile. “Let’s make this quick. You’ve got a bright future ahead of you... assuming you survive this.”

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

As expected, he took a step back. Then another. His feet were practically begging to bolt. Honestly, I was just messing around with him, saying whatever popped into my head, but it actually worked. Guess fear is a powerful motivator. Who knew?

Now he was overcompensating, guarding his face and upper body like he thought I was aiming for a knockout punch. His lower body was wide open—an open invitation, really.

Then it happened. Blue brushstrokes appeared all over his body. Not just on a weak point here or there—his entire body lit up like someone spilled paint all over him. I actually blinked in surprise. That was new. First time I’d ever seen everything marked.

Well, whatever the reason, it didn’t really matter. I shifted my stance and aimed for his open torso. One quick strike, and—

THWACK.

He let out a sharp yelp and staggered back, clutching his stomach. His wooden sword had dropped to the ground.

“Oops,” I said, though I didn’t mean it. “You dropped something.”

Two down, and still no sign of the guards. Lucky me. For now, at least.

I turned to check on the elf girl. She was still sitting there, wide-eyed and stunned, watching me fight the entire time. I mean, yeah, I get it—seeing a scrawny kid like me beat up a couple of bigger guys? Pretty impressive, if I do say so myself.

I flashed her a smile, half expecting some kind of relieved nod or maybe even a shy cheer. You know, like a “thanks for saving me” vibe. Instead, she pointed at something behind me, her face pale with terror.

At the same time, the system decided to chime in.

[WARNING: UNSEEN ATTACK INCOMING]

Shit.

I barely had time to process before WHACK—a wooden sword smashed into my face, sending a sharp jolt of pain straight through me. The noble brat. Of course. Guess I deserved that one for turning my back on him. Stupid mistake.

I stumbled forward, falling to my knees as blood dripped from my nose. “Damn it,” I muttered, clutching my face. It was throbbing now—great, just great.

I glanced up, catching the noble boy’s smug grin out of the corner of my eye. “One point for me,” he said, sounding way too pleased with himself.

I chuckled, wiping the blood from my nose. “Pretty dirty move, but... yeah. You earned that point.” I flashed him a smirk. Gotta give credit where it’s due, right?

He glanced at his two lackeys, still groaning on the ground, and scoffed. “Honestly, I’m surprised you managed to take those two down. Useless, the both of them.”

That was rich, coming from the guy who just ambushed me from behind. But I kept that thought to myself as I got to my feet, brushing myself off. My nose was still throbbing.

“Say,” he started, his tone dripping with arrogance, “was my attack too powerful for you? I might’ve gone a little overboard.”

I raised an eyebrow at him, amused. The guy had confidence, I’d give him that. Arrogant, sure, but it reminded me of... well, me. Except my arrogance actually had some justification behind it.

I smiled, gripping my wooden sword and pointing it right at him. “Oh, absolutely. You’re terrifying. And now? I’m itching for more.”

To be honest, I felt his attack—really felt it. The sting in my face and the throbbing in my nose made that very clear. And as I looked him over, I realized something else: his stance. It was precise. Offensive when it needed to be, defensive when it didn’t. The guy wasn’t just some pampered noble swinging a stick around. He was trained. Well-trained. And, more importantly, he was cunning. He didn’t mind playing dirty in a duel.

[Weak Point Determining]

[Analyzing...]

[Analyzing...]

.

..[Failed.]

Wait, what?

That’s... not supposed to happen.

[Trying again...]

[Analyzing opponent...]

Failed. Again.

My brain was spinning. Why wasn’t it working? It had never failed before. Before I could figure it out, he moved. Guess he got tired of waiting, because he came at me again, his wooden sword cutting through the air like it meant business.

I barely managed to parry in time. Barely. The force of the blow sent a jolt through my arms, leaving them trembling. It was heavier than his last strike. Stronger. More deliberate. And the way he moved... it was different. Fluid. Like someone who’d been doing this for years.

[Analysis Failed for the Third Time.]

Reason: You cannot see a weak point of an opponent stronger than you.

...Stronger? Than me?

Shit.

I gritted my teeth, scrambling to block his relentless strikes. They were fast—too fast. Each hit forced me back, my muscles screaming under the strain. And him? He was laughing. The kind of laugh that sends a chill down your spine, and he was actually enjoying this.

So apparently, the skill doesn’t work if the opponent’s stronger than me. I didn’t see that coming. I underestimated him—underestimated the whole situation, really—and now I was paying for it.

I stepped back. He followed. I tried to strike. He countered. No matter what I did, I couldn’t find an opening. Well, no, there was an opening—small, almost imperceptible—but every time I went for it…

Clang!

My attack got parried. Again.

Swish! Swish! Swoosh!

"You're pretty… tough," I muttered, barely dodging another precise strike. Seriously, this guy was relentless. It was like fighting a human meat grinder—one wrong move and I’d be julienned.

Thankfully, I’d been training, and Brandt's wooden stick—er, training sword—was solid enough to take the hits. For now.

Time for a new approach.

I stepped back again, baiting him. As expected, he lunged forward, taking the offensive. Perfect. I met his attack head-on, locking our swords together. A deadlock—his strength pushing against mine. For a brief moment, everything stalled. And that was all I needed.

The reset gave me just enough time to retreat a few steps. Then, in one smooth motion, I slid toward a patch of dirt. My fingers brushed the ground, subtly scooping up a handful of sand.

Sometimes, you gotta play a little dirty.

The moment I felt the sand securely in my hand, I lunged forward. He reacted immediately, slipping into a defensive stance. Smart guy.

But I wasn’t just charging in like a reckless idiot. No, this was all part of the plan.

As I closed the distance, I swung at him from the side—different angle, different approach. He parried it, of course, but that’s exactly what I wanted. His guard slipped for just a second. And that’s when I made my move.

I threw the sand.

Right in his face.

It hit its mark perfectly, blinding him. He stumbled, flailing like a drunk trying to find his balance, and I didn’t waste a second. I swept my leg under him, knocking him to the ground. Before he could react, I planted my training sword right at his neck.

"Looks like I win," I said, kicking his training sword away for good measure. I even tried to sound cool.

And then—

"No, you don’t."

That voice nearly stopped my heart. I spun around so fast I almost gave myself whiplash. Standing there was the hooded man from before. You know, that guy. The one who’d warned me about predators earlier. His face was still hidden under that cloak, but his tone? Yeah, it screamed, I’m here to ruin your day.

Before I could say anything, he grabbed my shirt and yanked me forward like I was some kind of sack of potatoes.

"Hey! What the heck are you doing?!" I sh

outed, my feet dragging helplessly across the dirt.

He didn’t answer.

To make things even weirder, the elf girl followed us without a word. The three kids I’d just fought? Completely abandoned.