CHAPTER 127: THE SECOND SMASHER

Chapter 127

The match between Aiden and Almighty had lasted no more than ten minutes, leaving the stage entirely unscathed. With no need for repairs, the seventh match was ready to begin without delay.

From the stage entrance, a figure stepped forward—a young girl in a white hoodie that hugged her head perfectly. She wore pink trousers that matched the soft hue of her eyes. Her stride was calm, focused, yet brimming with confidence. It was none other than Clara Mason.

She waved lightly to the cheering crowd, her smile warm but distant. Her mind wasn’t on the cheers—it was calculating. Her opponent was a Smasher. The second Smasher. Not exactly the kind of fighter anyone wanted to face, but Clara had no choice. She had to win.

Her eyes flicked toward the Class S section where her brother sat. He gave her a reassuring smile, and she returned it with one of her own. Then her gaze drifted to another VIP section where a stern man sat silently—Reynolds Mason, her father. His expression was cold, tinged with visible frustration. Still angry, Clara thought, but that doesn’t matter now.

In the distance, she spotted Han and the others in another VIP booth, cheering and giving her a thumbs-up. It should’ve felt embarrassing—but instead, it made her feel grounded. Supported.

I will win, she vowed, clenching her fists with quiet determination.

As she reached her side of the stage, she turned to wait—and not long after, her opponent emerged.

Kalen.

The girl strode out with mechanical grace, her short black hair swaying gently with each step. Her face betrayed no emotion. Silent. Composed. Beautiful in a way that rivaled Clara’s own striking presence. Yet there was something icy about her, something unapproachable.

The crowd roared—not because they favored Kalen, but because they wanted a spectacular fight. Kalen didn’t react. Her eyes never left Clara.

There was no acknowledgment of the cheers, no glance toward the VIPs, nothing. Only Clara. As if the rest of the world didn’t exist.

She took her place across the stage, their gazes locking like magnets drawn together by tension alone. Seconds passed—heavy, quiet seconds—until Clara finally broke the silence.

"Nice meeting you. I’m Clara," she said with a small, strained smile.

Kalen didn’t respond.

She stared a moment longer, then turned toward the announcer, signaling with a nod for the match to begin. Clara let out a soft breath, offering a self-deprecating smile.

So much for sportsmanship.

She could feel the tension in the air, thick and sharp like the tip of a blade. The bloodlust emanating from Kalen was unmistakable. She’s here for revenge, Clara realized. She wants to avenge her fallen teammate... by killing me.

Too bad. Clara’s eyes sharpened. I’m not planning to die today.

The announcer stepped forward, as theatrical as ever, introducing both fighters with exaggerated flair. The moment he finished, he snapped his fingers with a loud bang, signaling the start of the match.

Kalen moved instantly.

A blur of black and white, she exploded forward, her fist pulled back with lethal intent. She aimed straight for Clara’s face.

Bang!

A thunderous impact echoed across the arena—but her punch didn’t land.

Just inches from Clara’s face, it slammed into a white, glowing sphere. A shield had formed—a rectangular barrier of shimmering energy—blocking the blow at the last second.

Kalen leapt back, her eyes narrowing as the glowing white sphere retreated and merged with the others orbiting around Clara like loyal satellites.

So... she’s a bit competent, Kalen thought, adjusting her stance.

But then she stopped.

Her sharp eyes caught the spheres converging. They began attaching themselves to Clara’s body, one by one, forming sleek white plates over her frame. The plates fused seamlessly, reshaping into a futuristic battle suit. The limbs sharpened at the edges, turning sleek and deadly. The helmet enclosed her head last, its contours clean and refined.

The entire suit shimmered—then suddenly shifted from white to a deep, glowing blue, as if infused with energy. Thin white lines ran across the armor in intricate patterns, forming circuits that pulsed with power.

A digital HUD blinked into existence in Clara’s vision.

[TechBot Armor – Version 1.0 Active]

The suit’s interface confirmed activation.

Clara, now hovering gently in the air, looked down at her opponent. Her expression was unreadable, distant. The old Clara—the one waving to the crowd—was gone. This Clara looked forged for war.

Kalen didn’t move. Her face remained blank, but her clenched jaw gave her away. She had wanted to end Clara using only brute strength—her raw, honed physical power. But with this suit on the field, that plan was no longer realistic.

So be it, she thought coldly. Time to use my skills.

"Pincer Laser."

Clara’s voice rang out, calm and commanding. She raised her hand and pointed at Kalen. In an instant, multiple searing lasers fired from her fingers, crisscrossing the air and homing in on their target with deadly speed.

Yet Kalen didn’t even blink.

As the beams closed in, she opened her mouth—and let out a deafening sonic scream. The soundwave tore through the air, invisible but overwhelming. It collided with the lasers mid-flight, shattering them like glass on impact.

Clara raised an eyebrow. She hadn’t expected the lasers to end the match, but for them to disintegrate so quickly...

That scream—it’s a skill, she realized. A powerful one.

This battle had just gotten harder.

But Clara wasn’t finished.

Opening her palm, she began condensing a blinding white beam of energy.

"Jet Beam."

Fwummmm!

The condensed energy exploded forward, ripping through the air toward Kalen at terrifying speed. Before she could react—before another scream could be summoned—

BOOOOOOM!

The stage lit up in a flash of white and blue, the force shaking the arena.

—

Meanwhile, in the infirmary...

A sterile white room lay tucked away from the roaring arena. On the bed, a young man with blond hair lay unconscious, his breath shallow. Two nurses stood over him, carefully checking for injuries.

They found none.

"No fractures, no burns, not even bruises," the younger nurse said, her brows furrowed. "But... that’s impossible."

Her colleague didn’t look up. "From what I heard, he fought someone far above his level. He should be critically wounded."

"But we can’t see anything," the first nurse replied, frustrated.

"Exactly," the second nurse said gravely. "It might be internal. Something even worse. If that’s the case, only an A-rank healer—or someone stronger—could help him now."

The first nurse looked down at Aiden, pity softening her features.

"I’ll go get a... sleep stabilizer," she said, heading into the next room to fetch the serum.

She searched through drawers and vials, finally locating the right one. But when she returned...

She froze.

"...Where is he?" she whispered.

"Huh?" the second nurse asked distractedly, still mixing a fresh potion.

"The patient," she said louder, her voice tight with confusion. "He’s gone."

The second nurse turned—and froze.

The bed was empty. The blankets were still slightly rumpled, as if he had just been lying there. But the patient—the severely injured, unconscious boy—had vanished.

The second nurse’s thoughts spun.

Where could an unconscious, critically wounded man go... on his own?

Meanwhile...

The patient—Aiden—was sprinting through the city like a man possessed, each step faster than the last. His muscles screamed in protest, but he didn’t slow down. Not even for a second.

"Those witches really tried to put me into a partial coma..." he growled under his breath, bitterness flashing in his eyes.

He had actually enjoyed the company of the two nurses... until he overheard them talking about sedating him with a semi-coma serum. That had snapped him out of his feigned unconsciousness real fast.

What would Han and the others think if they found me in a half-dead state? No thanks.

He wasn’t about to stick around and find out.

With a final burst of strength, Aiden vaulted across rooftops and landed atop one of the tallest buildings in the city. He crouched there for a moment, catching his breath, his gaze sweeping over the horizon.

It was time.

His search was about to begin.

---

Back at the arena...

Clara stared into the fading smoke left by her devastating attack, her brow furrowed. The Jet Beam had hit dead-on. She was sure of it.

So where is she?

Kalen had completely vanished. Clara scanned the stage, her sensors running diagnostics—but there was no sign of her opponent. She considered, for a moment, that maybe she had disintegrated her. But no... even Jet Beam wasn’t powerful enough to do that to an Awakened, and she hadn’t confirmed whether Kalen was fully awakened or not.

Then—

Blink. Blink. Blink.

The radar in Clara’s HUD flashed red—danger detected.

Her eyes snapped upward.

There—hovering above—was Kalen, her hand gripping her throat, her body trembling slightly as she contained a dense, vibrating energy in her neck.

Clara’s heart skipped.

That energy... it was concentrated, volatile—deadly.

Kalen opened her mouth.

The air pulsed.

Clara didn’t wait. She triggered both layers of her tech suit’s dual barrier, a shimmer of energy forming a double shield around her.

HUMMMMMMMM!

The sonic blast tore down like an executioner’s blade.

The first barrier shattered on impact.

The second cracked, held for just two seconds—then exploded like glass under pressure.

And the wave didn’t stop.

It crashed into Clara’s suit, tearing at the metal with its invisible force. Inside, Clara screamed as the pressure hit her body directly. Her internal systems flared with red warnings. The stage cracked beneath her as she slammed into it with a violent crash.

BOOM!

Her faceplate flew off, clattering across the ground.

Kalen landed softly, her cold gaze fixed on Clara’s unmoving form. She clicked her tongue in disappointment.

"Tch. I expected more from someone allied with Argon Killer," she muttered. "But I guess... this is all you’ve got."

She stepped forward, preparing to finish the job.

Then... the suit moved.

Clara’s body rose shakily from the debris, steam pouring from the damaged tech suit. Her breathing was ragged. Her face, bruised and pale, twisted in pain—but she stood.

The look she gave Kalen was a mix of fear, awe, and a grim understanding.

If I hadn’t activated that dual barrier... I’d be dead right now.

She clenched her fists.

Kalen’s killing intent was overwhelming, nearly suffocating. It reminded her of Argon. The same monstrous pressure. The same sense of inevitable death.

If this keeps up... I won’t survive.

Clara inhaled deeply and straightened her back.

"I guess I have no choice," she muttered.

She looked at Kalen with a stoic expression, concealing her fear behind a wall of calm.

"Blame yourself for whatever happens next," she said coldly.

Then she tapped the center of her chestplate.

"Activate Version 2.0."

TO BE CONTINUED...