roadtomastery
patreon
Chapter 41: Gan Salin
🕑 Added 2022-11-27 11:18:27 +0000 UTCJack stared at the man before him. His gentle appearance contrasted the threat carried by his name, but only until someone noticed the mad glint in his eye.
“It’s my town, not yours,” said Jack, frowning. “So, you’re Gan Salin. The same one who let loose Henry’s Fang in Valville?”
Gan Salin smiled. “You know what? I like you,” he said. His teeth showed more than they should, and, surprisingly, he seemed to salivate a little. He quickly scooped that up with his tongue. “Yes, Henry’s Fang was one of my satellite factions, but that’s not important. They were pretty weak, anyway. You, on the other hand, are strong. We could use an ally like you in the tournament.”
Belatedly, Jack realized he’d forgotten to inspect this person. He quickly did.
Canine (Earth-387), Level 30
Faction: -
Title: Planetary Frontrunner (10)
Oh, shit.
He reviewed his own status to make sure he wasn’t misremembering his own title.
Name: Jack Rust
Species: Human, Earth-387
Faction: Bare Fist Brotherhood
Grade: F
Class: Pugilist (Elite)
Level: 34
Strength: 97
Dexterity: 97
Constitution: 97
Mental: 9
Will: 7
Skills: Fistfighting (III), Drill (II), Pugilist Body (II), Parkour (I)
Dao Skills: Meteor Punch (I)
Titles: Planetary Frontrunner (10)
What luck. There were only ten people on the entire planet with that title, and Jack had managed to stumble upon one of them. Plus, this was new information: Titles showed. Could everyone see Jack’s?
On the other hand, he should have known. The bald man in his Dao vision also had a visible title.
And what the hell was a Canine? This guy looked like a human, just with messy facial hair—like a hairy boy entering his teens. Now that Jack took a closer look, his canines were slightly longer and sharper too, making them easily noticeable when Gan Salin opened his mouth.
“We?” he asked, putting titles and species aside for now. “Who’s we, and why do you need allies?”
“The five scions,” Gan Salin replied. “We come from the Animal Kingdom, the B-Grade faction that runs this constellation. In the Integration Tournament, we are each tasked with finding the most suitable candidates and pitting them against each other. The winner gets rewards. So, what do you say? Wanna fight for me?”
“Not particularly. I fight for myself. What Animal Kingdom, anyway? The System says you’re from Earth.”
“Typicalities.” Gan Salin shook his head. “Anyway, being chosen by one of the scions is a blessing. The first benefit is that you can avoid getting killed by another scion to eliminate competition.”
He grinned nonchalantly. This was a threat, and both men knew it. They locked eyes. Jack frowned.
“The second benefit is that I’ll help you,” Gan Salin continued. “I have many resources at my disposal. Where do you think Henry found his Dao Fruit?—which I’ll be taking, by the way. There are other things I can offer, too; a Dao Fruit is only the wolf’s tail.”
The expression rolled off his tongue naturally, like it was real.
“I can’t give you the Dao Fruit,” said Jack. “You gave it to Henry White. I took it from him. It belongs to me.”
“Nonsense. Come on, just say yes.”
He reached for a handshake. Jack slapped his hand away and stared him down.
“Keep your hands to yourself,” he replied coldly, “and stop ignoring me. I’m not giving you the fruit. I’m not fighting for you. You’re lucky I don’t kick your ass right now for unleashing a gang on my town.”
Jack’s words were biting. Gan Salin didn’t seem to mind. His nonchalance remained.
“That’s pretty bold. You understand that I’m going to kill you if you refuse, right?”
“Oh ho? Is that so?”
“But of course! I thought I made it clear earlier; sorry.”
“Mr. Rust!” Emilia’s voice came from behind. “Is someone there?”
“Stay in the house,” he barked back.
“You should be careful,” said Gan Salin. Jack noticed he was salivating again. No, it wasn’t saliva; it was foam. What the fuck? “Our levels might seem close, but a native could never match a scion. I have decades of experience on you. Just lay down and show me your belly, or whatever you guys do here.”
“I see you’re resolved,” Gan Salin continued with a mock sigh. “Very well. It’s a shame, but whatever you want. I’ll give you three moves so you don’t—”
Jack’s fist met his face before he even finished talking. Gan Salin flew backward, then flipped in mid-air and landed on his feet. He took Jack’s blow easily. “Wait,” he said. “I’m not done posturing.”
“Too bad.”
Jack punched out again, closing the distance in two steps. This time, the attack wasn’t hasty; it smashed into Gan Salin’s crossed arms and catapulted him back with tremendous force, sending him across the street and into an already-ruined house—probably from monster attacks.
The young man—the scion—stood up again.
“You pack a punch,” he said, grinning despite his pained expression. “Come on. I said three attacks. Do your worst.”
Jack raised a brow. This guy had been sent flying and still insisted on keeping his word; it was commendable.
However, Jack didn’t attack right away. He looked at his fist. This was an all-out attack. It should have dealt more damage. No; Jack had felt the impact. It had dealt damage. Was Gan Salin pretending? Or was he simply withstanding?
“Fuck your three attacks,” he said, looking up from his fist. “I’m not weaker than you. Fight me straight.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Very well.”
“Jack?” A voice came from behind him, and turning, he saw the professor’s head poke out of the door frame. “What’s going on?”
“Well, a douche—”
Gan Salin rammed into Jack with enough force to send him flying. He ripped through a wall of the house, then another, creating a see-through hole, then skipped across the street to imprint himself on another house’s wall.
Jack leaned against the ground, spitting a bit of blood. “Motherfucker,” he said, “that hurt. I thought you were honorable.”
“Hey, you’re the one who looked the other way,” came Salin’s reply as he stepped through the hole in the wall. He stood across the street from Jack, opening and closing his fists as if in warm-up. For the first time, Jack noticed his long fingernails. He also noticed five shallow, bleeding holes on his chest.
“Did you try to grab my heart?”
“You have strong skin.” Salin nodded. “Is it a skill, or do you focus on Constitution?”
“Like I’d tell you.”
“Yeah. Thank the Immortals I don’t really care.”
Jack stood up and dusted himself off. He wasn’t really hurt. “Prepare to die, dipshit.”
“Finally, some good posturing. I’m sure we’ll work together just fine after I beat you to the ground.”
Jack moved sideways, repositioning himself. This way, whoever was sent flying would only sail over street, not through houses. He then pounced, rearing his fists back and preparing to pound Gan Salin like fine dough.
His opponent smirked. Darting forth to meet Jack, Salin drew his hand back and spread it wide, sharp fingernails gleaming on each of his fingers. “Five-star Grasp!” he yelled. Jack raised a brow.
Punch met nails in a heavy collision. Salin’s hand was sent flying back, but small holes appeared on Jack’s knuckles. He struck again, nailing two jabs into Salin and following it up with a fierce straight to his face. Gan Salin didn’t retreat, either. He dodged the attacks, blocked, and dealt his own.
It was peculiar. His strength was nowhere near enough to harm Jack, but every time he clawed, the strike felt unstoppable. Jack almost hesitated to meet those strikes, imbued as they were with a sense of absolute confidence. It was a sensation that reached inside Jack’s soul; a Dao Root. But which one?
Gan Salin mirrored the thought. “What’s your Dao Root?” he asked between strikes.
“Shut up!”
“Is it Strength? Anger? Stubbornness? Or resolve, like me?”
Jack’s eyes flashed. So that’s what.
His Dao Root and Salin’s were close in meaning. His fist contained resolve. Resolve was carried out by the fist. They had significant overlap, but in the end, they differed. Jack’s fighting spirit burned. This wasn’t only a battle of men, but also of their Daos—and he would be damned if he let himself lose.
Fine. Show me a similar Dao and I’ll pulverize it with my fists.
Gan Salin’s eyes exhibited a similar resolve.
Jack punched and punched and punched. Salin dodged and slashed. The two were standing still, fighting at close quarters.
Heavy strikes rang out. Two steel-like bodies clashed together. Arms struck like hammers, nails whistled like blades. The street had gone silent, with only the sound of their strikes echoing.
Jack was impressed. The speed of his opponent was extraordinary. His strikes were light but cut like sharp blades, and when Jack landed the occasional punch, he took it like a champ. Moreover, his skill was nothing to scoff at. If not for Jack’s great Constitution, he would be helpless.
But he wasn’t.
In fact, as they fought, Jack steadily got the upper hand. He didn’t bother dodging, so he could attack harder, and their brawl fell in his favor.
Suddenly, Gan Salin disappeared.
“Canine Dash!” came a voice from behind Jack. He barely had time to turn around before Gan Salin was onto him, slashing like a wild animal. He then disappeared again, running circles around Jack. He was so fast that Jack struggled to turn around and follow the movement with his eyes.
Salin zigzagged wildly, pouncing and retreating at random intervals. These attacks carried momentum, so Jack couldn’t ignore them, and he was forced on the defensive. Salin circled him like a demon. His speed was such that Jack couldn’t even make him out clearly, let alone seize the initiative.
Shit! he thought, defending against an onslaught of nails. I feel like an earth bear!
His body was bleeding from many places, but he was still mostly fine. His regeneration closed the shallow holes almost as quickly as Gan Salin opened them. Moreover, with his clearly higher Constitution, Jack was confident he could outlast his opponent. The problem lay elsewhere.
Why the hell is he running on all fours!?
“Five-Star Grasp!” Salin shouted again, turning sharply and pouncing at Jack. Jack was ready. He let the strike land but grabbed tightly onto Salin’s hand, pulling him along as he sailed over the street and skipped on stone. His back slammed against a car, loosening his grip and letting Salin squirm out.
Jack groaned but recovered quickly. He pounced on Salin, raining his own blows and not letting him drop on all fours again.
“Five-Star Grasp!” Salin tried, but this time, he missed. Jack’s punch met his jaw.
“Why the hell are you shouting out the names of your moves?” he roared as he attacked. Edgar was doing the same, but not with such pretentious names!
“That’s what we’re supposed to do!”
“It’s fucking ridiculous!”
“Tail Swipe!” Salin’s foot slithered underneath Jack’s, knocking his feet out from below him. Jack was having none of that. He was getting angry by now. Not only was this guy fighting in such an annoying fashion, he was also making fun of him.
Even as his legs gave way, he grabbed Salin’s hair and slammed him on the ground. Salin quickly jumped back but Jack was on him again.
“And why are the names stupid as shit!?”
“Thats—what—they—are—called!” Salin called out between dodges; he could no longer take the hits in stride. Jack was pushing on now, advancing a step every time he punched, while Gan Salin was running backward and panting. “Why aren’t you shouting yours, you imbecile?”
“I—Because I’m not an idiot!”
“Like hell you aren’t!”
Jack’s momentum kept rising, his punches getting heavier. Despite fighting for so long, Gan Salin refused to give ground. He was only panting a bit. However, by now, Jack was flying into a rage. This guy was openly mocking him.
“You fucking bastard, I can shout my moves too! Punch that Breaks your Jaw! Fist that Cracks your Ribs!”
“Those are fak— Ugh!”
A good strike finally landed, sending Gan Salin flying into a large upturned dumpster. Jack kicked the lid closed, lifted the dumpster, smashed it with the lid on the street, and began striking its wall. The other side of the dumpster burst open as Salin jumped out.
Jack pursued. He wasn’t playing around. The banter died down as Jack’s momentum increased. He punched and punched harder, not giving Gan Salin a single moment of respite. When he tried using Canine Dash to fall on all fours and escape, Jack grabbed him by the leg and slammed him into the ground. When he tried to run away, Jack pulled his hair back and bitch-slapped the shit out of him.
Gan Salin yelped in pain. Jack was completely wiping the floor with him, not letting go of his initiative for a single moment, and Salin could only stand there and take a beating.
Finally, Salin let a punch meet his nose head-on, breaking it with a crunch and sending him flying.
“Fine!” he screamed out. “I wanted to let you live, but fuck you!” He took another punch to the gut, and this time, he didn’t try to defend. “Hit harder, you fuck. Come on. Hurry the fuck up.”
Jack frowned. Something was wrong. He stared into Salin’s eyes and saw the madness intensify, his irises taken over by a burning red. Reason disappeared as Gan Salin’s eyes turned into an animal’s.
At the same time, the Dao aura that Jack had been sensing shifted. This wasn’t resolve anymore. It was something else. Something wild.
Jack’s eyes widened. The fuck! He has two!?
He jumped back, then looked at his opponent again, for real this time. The previous Dao Root of Resolve had given way to a new one, but what was it? Jack got a confusing read.
Gentle appearance, ill-timed jokes, thinly-veiled madness. Foam at the edges of his mouth. Violence only barely held at bay.
Gan Salin reminded Jack of a crazed dog.
