Chapter 279
STUPID (3)
IAM shook his head a few times, blinking until the room stopped tilting. The vertigo eased out of him in slow increments; with a low grunt he pushed himself fully to his feet. He took a breath, letting it clear the last fuzz from his vision.
For a moment he considered reaching for KASSARA—a quick shot to Blaze's leg would finish things cleanly and keep him from recovering. He pictured the exact spot that would incap the other without risking a fatal shot. But thought waned.
He didn't want an accident, didn't want that single, careless instant where the killing intent took over and turned a controlled situation into something irreversible. So he let the idea go.
Blaze was a wreck on the floor, he was still clutching himself and gasping. In his current state there was no need for another bullet; the man could be subdued without one.
The problem, though, didn't vanish—there was still the locked room. The hour hadn't run out; time was still against him. Blaze might recover enough to fight back before the doors opened, which meant IAM had two clear options left in front of him: knock Blaze out now, or buy time and stall until the lock released. He weighed them with the same calm calculation that had guided every choice tonight, feeling that cold, steady focus settle back into his limbs.
IAM watched Blaze's form with narrowed suspicious eyes and said calmly, "Tell the system, or whatever you call it, to open the doors."
Blaze didn't respond. He was still clutching himself, the agony written all over his face. IAM frowned, a deep crease forming on his forehead. He didn't trust it—not for a second. Something about the sight felt off. Was Blaze actually in pain, or was he acting, waiting for IAM to lower his guard before counterattacking?
The hesitation wasn't baseless. Blaze had been in the academy far longer than IAM, and someone like him wouldn't just leave himself in such a vulnerable state unless there was a reason behind it. He also had access to his own path methods; pretending to be helpless could easily be a setup.
IAM's instincts screamed that this was a trap. Yet, without using KASSARA or stepping closer, his options were painfully limited.
"I know you're acting right now," IAM said, his voice was flat. "You were fighting with a bullet hole in your shoulder, and now you're still on the floor after a few minutes because I hit you in the balls? Get a grip."
Blaze's moans cut off mid-phrase. He forced himself up, black lines streaking across his face as rage twisted his features. "Tch—fucking little spawnling. When I get my hands on you…" he spat.
IAM let out a quiet inward sigh. He'd been right not to close the distance too quickly — it would've been exactly the kind of trap Blaze wanted.
"Just so you know," Blaze said, pointing a finger at IAM, "that sneak shot didn't even hurt!" His face twisted into an indignant scowl, his voice carried a lot of pride.
IAM glanced down at Blaze's slightly trembling legs, an amused smirk flickered across his lips. "Suuure," he said.
Before he could even finish, a blur filled his vision—a foot was already flying toward his face. IAM ducked instinctively, he felt the rush of air graze his cheek, then grabbed Blaze's leg mid-motion and shoved him backward. Blaze hit the ground but didn't stay there long—his other leg shot out in a swift counter, aiming straight for IAM's neck. The move forced IAM to release his grip and twist away, narrowly avoiding the kick as his shoulder brushed the ground.
He rolled away, barely regaining his footing before Blaze followed with a fierce shout, diving in without hesitation. To IAM's disbelief, Blaze went for a brutal low swipe aimed directly at his balls.
Seriously? IAM thought, exasperated. As a senior, can you not be so vengeful?
He hurriedly blocked the attack and sprang to his feet, sending out a sweeping kick in retaliation. Blaze caught it with his shin and shoved forward, forcing IAM to backpedal as their scuffle turned into a full-on brawl.
Each strike landed with echoing force—fists, elbows, and knees colliding in quick succession. Blaze fought with reckless ferocity, every move fueled by rage, while IAM relied on agility and precision to keep up. He was physically weaker, so his blows were lighter, but he compensated through parrying, deflecting, and throwing in sharp jabs to break Blaze's rhythm.
But Blaze's offense was relentless. His movements were heavy yet fast, like someone who could turn a charged attack into a light one in gaming terms. Every strike carried a lot of force, forcing IAM to bend, duck, or pivot away just to keep from being overpowered.
But as the fight dragged on, Blaze began to notice something that made his eye twitch in irritation. Every strike—every jab, kick, or feint from IAM—was aimed at the same spot: his injured shoulder.
It wasn't random. IAM was deliberately targeting that side, forcing Blaze to block again and again with the arm that throbbed in pain every time it moved. What should've been simple exchanges became labored, his movements were stiff and awkward as the strain built. Each counterattack faltered before it could gain momentum, and frustration started to boil inside him.
Seriously? Blaze thought, exasperated, a vein bulging near his temple. As a junior, can you not be vengeful?
As both harbored such *kind and positive* thoughts about one another, Blaze suddenly let out a sharp, guttural shout. He seemed to have activated a path method. The air around him shimmered with heat, his body radiating a wave of strange energy that distorted the space nearby. IAM barely had a moment to register what was happening before Blaze moved—a blur of shadow faster than his eyes could follow.
In an instant, Blaze had closed the distance and seized him by the collar. The force of his charge was like being hit by a runaway beast; IAM's feet left the ground before he could even brace himself. With the sheer momentum behind the attack, Blaze slammed him mercilessly against the wall of mirrors. The impact echoed across the training room with a thunderous bang, and the mirror spiderwebbed, then shattered violently around them.
Shards rained down, glinting in the light, scattering across the floor like fragments of their battle. In the broken reflection, IAM's image appeared fractured— his reflection splintered into a dozen uneven pieces.
Blaze's blue eyes burned with fury, his expression twisting with a mixture of rage and satisfaction. IAM, pinned and gasping, felt his chest heave as he struggled to draw breath. But then—something changed.
In that moment, amid the shards, IAM's eyes slowly lifted to meet Blaze's. Their depth deepened. calm yet bottomless, as if something within him had awakened.
Darkness met the blue.