In a sense, humans only attempt what they believe can succeed. If the odds seem slim halfway through, no amount of hollow pep talks changes reality—most would simply give up.

Conversely, taking action means someone has mustered courage and confidence. Or perhaps just blind hope. For anyone, this is both good news and bad—no one can predict the outcome.

Achieving your goal is one thing. Straying from it, moving in the opposite direction, is another entirely.

*Gurgle…*

Only one thing terrified Atak, the black-clad man before him: dying at the hands of someone weaker. Schemes? Numbers? He refused to be outwitted by a far inferior opponent. That thought drove him mad. To him, "schemes" were nothing but excrement—waste squeezed out from humanity’s arrogant so-called wisdom.

Utterly meaningless before true power. That was "schemes."

"Tch. Not bad."

When Bai Ming slammed his fist into the ground, dust erupted like a storm, swallowing the entire space—and the black-clad man within it.

This trick showed Bai Ming was finally grasping combat. Or perhaps he’d been careless all along, treating his enemy like an office worker lazily handling routine tasks. No urgency. No tension.

"Heh heh heh… Now you’re showing some spirit. Struggle harder. This is getting fun."

Black mist fused with dust, sealing off a hundred-meter radius. Atak’s strategy was simple: no tricks. Just let his corrosive mist touch Bai Ming. Movement meant nothing—trapped in this fog, Bai Ming had zero chance.

Human bodies were fragile. Like glass. A single touch, and they shattered.

Atak crouched slightly, falling silent. He needed focus.

Bai Ming’s dust storm had stolen his vision. He had seconds to relocate his target.

If he failed? Who knew what this reckless fool might do next.

Then again—if even his werewolf eyes couldn’t pierce the haze, how could a mere human like Bai Ming find *him*?

Sound.

Only sound.

So he’d already laid a trap: black mist coiled around him, ready to devour Bai Ming the moment he stepped close. Now, just to find him…

Find him…

Fin—

"What… what’s happening?!"

As Atak concentrated on tracking Bai Ming, searing pain ripped through his abdomen. His spear clattered to the ground. He collapsed with a choked gasp. Bai Ming’s footsteps pounded nearby.

Atak whipped his head toward the sound—

Unaware Bai Ming already stood behind him, fist clenched, face blank.