A Level 2 Ascended Genome, and one with a transformation ability that grants him physical enhancement. Obviously, a Level 0 had no place fighting him, but that’s only if both were aiming to win the fight, and in this case, neither had any intention of doing so.
The furry bastard was basically a super-cop and would likely aim to restrain him. Dante was betting on that to try something, which was a pretty dumb idea, since he would be incriminating himself even more, but for some reason he wasn’t thinking straight right now.
Keeping his eyes pinned on the hero, Dante didn’t falter and timed his movements and held his hand up just as a white fist came at him. It collided with the back of his hand and veered off path, barely missing him.
Not paying the pain any mind, he moved the same hand aside and pushed the second punch thrown at him. Taken aback, Werewolf went for a kick, but his foot was blocked just as the motion started.
Several blows were thrown, but each was blocked, parried, and deflected. Werewolf was the faster between the two, but it didn’t look like that from the side. Anyone watching would assume they were on the same level, and those with good eyes would tell you the red-haired youth was far more skilled, but both would be wrong.
The reason Dante managed to stand his guard was very simple: Werewolf was holding back. The kick he landed on him when he first arrived made it obvious. A Level 2 could’ve broken Dante’s Basic human arms with ease, rendering all of his efforts to soften the blow useless.
If the furry hero hadn’t pulled back his punches, or in this case, his kicks, Dante would’ve ended up with two broken arms and a fractured rib or two. The blow did hurt, though, and Dante wasn’t one to let debts go unpaid.
Having remained on the defensive from the start, Dante was slowly pushed back. Werewolf’s strikes were growing stronger and faster, too, showing that he was starting to take the fight a bit more seriously after failing to land a single hit.
That’s why Dante decided it was time to change tactics.
Watching as another fur-covered fist came flying at him, he made a move to block it with his left hand but ducked instead, letting it pass over his head. In the short moment he bought for himself, his right hand shot out like a bolt of lightning, delivering a piercing jab to the hero’s chest.
Before it could settle in, he followed with two more then evaded another punch and went for a low hook, planting his fist right into Werewolf’s flank. Of course, unlike the hero, Dante had no reason to hold back, which is why each of his blows contained every bit of power his Level 0 body could produce.
Though his transformation ability granted him higher durability, the Level 2 Ascended Genome still felt the weight of each blow. As he studied his every move, Dante caught the exact moment the hero’s anger spiked. His eyes grew sharper, his fur-covered fists unfurled, and his claws extended, growing sharper right in front of Dante’s eyes.
’Who in the world is he?’
The question crossed Werewolf’s mind soon after he realized that none of his blows had landed. Nothing about the red-haired youth suggested that he was more than the average thug. The lines on his hands hinted at a bone-enhancing implant, but that alone wouldn’t have granted him that level of skill.
The likely explanation was that he was making use of an SRE. Nowadays, it isn’t so strange to find some that are loaded with the expertise of masters in all kinds of martial arts, but the human body wouldn’t be able to make use of such enhancements without proper training.
That would mean either the boy had practiced enough so that his body would make the most of those implants, or that he didn’t have one in the first place, and that all of his movements were the result of pure skill.
Just as he realized the mistake he had made by underestimating him, the first blow struck Werewolf, then more followed. Not only was the red-haired youth skilled enough to stand his ground, but now he was fighting back, seamlessly switching to a boxing style to deliver jabs and heavy punches.
’This one... is dangerous...’
The time for games was over. Having recognized him as a threat, Werewolf changed his fighting style as well and accelerated his movements. With his fists no longer clenched, his hands turned into spears which he thrust several times in quick succession, aiming to pierce the difficult opponent he was facing.
The red-haired youth evaded the first thrust and second, then the third and fourth, but the fifth thrust got him in the shoulder, although it only tore his jacket. The sixth almost pierced his forehead when he lunged forward. If Werewolf hadn’t adjusted his thrust at the last moment, he would’ve killed him right then and there.
That moment of indecisiveness came with a jab from the youth who then weaved under another thrust, twisting his body as he prepared to follow with an uppercut. Werewolf couldn’t allow that one to connect no matter what, so he craned his head back, evaded, then used the motion to somersault and strike the youth’s hands, causing him to stagger back.
Landing a short distance away, he was about to chain another attack, but that’s when three words reached his ears.
Werewolf’s extended claws halted mere centimeters from the youth’s chest, almost touching his shirt. A gentle gust followed the abrupt stop, caressing his pure white fur. Looking up, he was met with a strange sight.
The red-haired youth was standing straight with his hands in the air. The determined expression he wore before was gone, replaced with a nonchalant smile hanging on his sweat-covered face.
"What... did you say?" Werewolf asked.
"I give up," the youth replied. "You win."
It took a few seconds for what happened to settle in, and that left Werewolf entirely confused. After everything that had just happened, he decided to give up just like that?