[Resuming Time]
Right in front of his eyes, the leaf he had poked before started moving again.
It slipped off his fingertip and drifted down slow, brushing past his arm before it hit the ground.
The air pushed against his skin again, the grass bent low, the forest alive once more.
Bill and his brothers moved too, their laughter bursting out loud where it had been stuck.
[Demonic Overdrive: Online]
[Scanning battlefield...]
[Highest Level Enemy Detected: Level 10]
[Adjusting Host Level 1 → Level 11]
[Stat Growth Calculated: +50 points]
[Default Distribution: +10 HP, +10 MP, +10 Defence, +10 Strength, +10 Agility]
[System Override: Combat Priority Detected]
[Redistributing for Survival Chance]
[+5 HP, +5 MP, +5 Defence, +15 Strength, +20 Agility]
[Final Stats Adjusted]
[HP: 100 → 105]
[MP: 100 → 105]
[Defence: 10 → 15]
[Strength: 10 → 25]
[Agility: 20 → 40]
[Stamina Cost: 10 per second to maintain]
[Passive Boost Detected: Second Wind]
[Girl proximity: 10 meters]
[Result: Net Stamina cost = Zero. Congratulations, Host, you lucked into an infinite loop.]
[Warning: Don't get cocky. You're fast, not immortal. A sword still cuts your head clean off.]
Liu Yang's grin stretched wide, twitchy and stupid. His eyes glittered. "Heh… infinite mode… papa's untouchable now!"
Liu Yang stood firm in his spot. He couldn't move back. If he did, he would step out of range of the girl and lose the passive skill, and that meant losing his "infinite mode."
His feet pressed down deep into the ground, toes curling inside his shoes like he was locking himself there.
The air around him felt different, heavier, like even the wind stopped to watch him.
The shadow under his chin grew longer, sliding up his face slow, covering his mouth, his nose, almost reaching his eyes.
From his body came a black smoke, thick, curling up like it was alive, wrapping around him again and again until he looked less like a man and more like something crawling out of hell.
[Combat Mode: Activated]
The first brother rushed in from the left, sword slicing through the air. The second came from the right, blade whistling.
But Liu Yang ducked down fast, his knees bending low, his back dropping quick, smooth like his body already knew what to do.
His hands never came out, they stayed stuffed deep in his pockets the whole time, like he didn't even need them, like dodging blades was as easy as breathing.
The blades cut empty air, missing him by inches.
The two brothers froze, their eyes wide under their helmets.
"What the fuck—" the first brother gasped.
Liu Yang straightened up, his lips pulling into a grin, his aura flaring hotter.
He lifted his right hand slowly, palm out, then bent his fingers one by one. His index curled, then the rest while his middle finger didn't curl, making that sharp gesture — the universal sign of a challenge.
"Come, you punks."
"Let me show you, what this crazy demon can do?"
"Let me show you what this crazy demon can do."
The brothers swung again and again. From the left. From the right. From the top. The blades cut the air sharp, but Liu Yang stood there, his feet planted in the same spot.
When the sword came from the left, he bent his body just enough, and it passed by.
When the sword came from the right, he leaned the other way, smooth, not even flinching.
When the sword came down from above, he tilted his head and shoulder, and the blade passed past him.
When one of them swept low, he lifted his leg high, balancing on one foot, even dropping his hand to the ground to keep balance, then dropping back into place like nothing happened.
Steel cut the air, sparks jumped from the ground, but not once did his feet move back.
Their swords got faster. Their swings got wilder. But his body kept bending, dodging, moving just enough.
They started to pant, hard, their breath coming heavy through the gaps in their helmets.
Each swing made their arms heavier, their steps slower. Their chests rose fast, pulling air but never enough.
But Liu Yang… his breath was steady. His body was glowing with black smoke. His stamina wasn't falling, it was filling again and again. [Second Wind] was working, keeping him alive, keeping him fresh.
His eyes caught every sword before it moved. The world slowed for him.
His ears picked up every sound of sword cutting through the air. He didn't just dodge—he knew where the blade was coming from before it even swung.
Liu Yang opened his mouth wide and let out a big yawn, his head tilting back like he was just waking from a nap. "I'm getting bored," he said, his voice lazy, while his body kept dodging every blade without even trying.
He dropped his shoulders, his grin fading into a sharp line. "Hmm… let's finish this."
His eyes narrowed. The world slowed in front of him. He saw it—the gap, the one clean opening between the swing of the blade and the soft part of the first brother's stomach.
Liu Yang pulled his elbow back, his fist tight, his arm shaking with black aura. Then he drove it forward.
The punch landed straight into the armor. The iron caved in, bending like soft tin. The imprint of his knuckles stamped into the chest plate. The soldier's body shot back like a broken arrow, flying across the grass, rolling until he crashed near Bill's boots.
"You bastard, how dare you hit my brother!" Bill roared.
Liu Yang spat to the side, his lips curling. "Shut up, and join him."
The second brother's sword came down hard from above. Liu Yang tilted his head, letting the blade whistle past his ear.
In the same breath he stepped forward, his hand snapping up, fingers locking around the soldier's wrist. The sword stopped cold in the air, frozen by his grip.
The soldier's eyes widened. He tried to pull free, but Liu Yang's hand only squeezed tighter, black smoke wrapping his fingers. Liu Yang pulled his other arm back, elbow bent, then smashed his fist forward into the soldier's stomach.
The armor dented, the mark of his fist burned into the metal. The soldier lifted off his feet and flew back, crashing hard to the ground on the other side of Bill.