The remaining three enemies... each have very distinctive appearances.

One is a thin, skeletal man.

Another has thin, curly hair and a grotesque face.

The third is completely bald.

These people have no idea what coordination means...

They just rush in screaming "wah wah wah," without any sense of sequencing, failing to leverage their numbers.

In such a narrow corridor, the result of them all charging together... is that they hinder each other.

Both the thin man and grotesque man lunged at Mukiwa side by side.

But the bald man, blocked by the thin man and grotesque man, couldn’t advance or attack, so he could only follow reluctantly behind them.

The second person to swing a sword at Mukiwa was this thin, skeletal man.

He adopted a lower rank stance, drawing the blade from the lower right to the upper left toward Mukiwa.

However — he didn’t maintain a safe distance from the grotesque man beside him, so his blade missed Mukiwa and instead slashed the grotesque man’s leg.

The grotesque man, unexpectedly struck in the leg, let out a wretched scream and fell to the ground.

"I’m sorry...!" The thin man instinctively apologized to his companion whom he inadvertently wounded.

Seeing the grotesque man fall in pain, the thin man’s apology, and the bald man blocked by them, Mukiwa seized this perfect opportunity. She dashed forward in a streak, slipped in front of the thin man, clenching her fists, and pummeled three punches into his chest.

Mukiwa’s actions were disturbingly orderly and methodical.

She wasn’t delivering chaotic strikes but channeled all her upper body strength into calm and precise punches, each blow punctuated by the sounds of skin tearing and bones cracking.

Anyone witnessing Mukiwa’s combat would surely find it unbelievable—how a 15-year-old girl, standing only 1.5 meters tall, with a slender build except for her chest and hips, could possess such formidable prowess.

After launching the third and final punch into the thin man’s chest, he staggered backward several steps, unable to disperse the overwhelming force lingering in his chest, and collapsed in a heap on the floor.

On hitting the ground, he gasped and coughed up a splatter of blood — though not completely unconscious, he fell into a half-dazed state.

After felling the thin man with three punches, Mukiwa didn’t pause; she pivoted on her left foot and delivered a downward whip kick to the grotesque man lying on the ground. Her toe struck his abdomen, and the grotesque man skidded backward across the floor, slamming his back against the corridor wall.

With a sharp "wah," the grotesque man vomited up everything he had consumed that night, filling the air with a pungent sour stench.

After heaving up everything, the grotesque man murmured a few incoherent moans before his head lolled to the side and he lost consciousness.

The last opponent standing... was this bald man!

This bald man was exceptionally fierce.

Even though he was alone now, there wasn’t a trace of fear on his face.

He swung his wakizashi in his right hand, slashing out arcs of piercing light, while his left hand formed a palm, attempting to grasp Mukiwa — the martial arts he employed was also kogusoku-jutsu.

Mukiwa’s petite form moved with flexibility and stability, without a hint of vulnerability. Her body twisted lightly and nimbly, maneuvering through the darkness of the corridor.

Every time the bald man’s blade or palm seemed poised to strike Mukiwa, she skillfully evaded with a slight twist of her body, dodging his attacks.

This "you attack, I defend" battle didn’t last long.

The bald man had strength, but lacked speed.

After evading another slash from the bald man, Mukiwa took the opportunity when he was withdrawing his blade and realigning his position to step forward forcefully, closing the distance while channeling power through her stepping foot.

The power rose from the ground — this is an unchanging principle of all martial arts.

The force generated from the heavy step traveled through Mukiwa’s calf to her waist, and then from her waist to her now tightly clenched right palm.

In less than a second, the channeled strength erupted from Mukiwa’s right palm — as her palm struck heavily into the bald man’s abdomen, he let out a painful cry, retreating several steps.

However, unlike the thin man, he didn’t immediately collapse; he gritted his teeth, forcefully enduring the fierce strike with sheer willpower and brute force.

Not falling straight to the ground — such determination is commendable, although ultimately futile.

Just as he steadied himself, Mukiwa swiftly advanced, her delicate feet lifting her slightly off the ground, and using the momentum of her jump, she delivered a knife-hand strike to the right side of the bald man’s neck.

Thud... a dull clash of flesh...

The bald man’s neck clamped onto Mukiwa’s knife-hand strike; his body stiffened momentarily, then his eyes flipped back, and he fell backward.

Coincidentally — as Mukiwa dispatched the bald man, Aoto perfectly finished incapacitating all the foes he was handling.

Aoto retrieved a piece of pocket paper from his pocket, wiping the blood and grease from the wakizashi’s blade, as he walked slowly towards Mukiwa, who had just ended her battle.

"Are you hurt?" Aoto eyed the defeated individuals at Mukiwa’s feet, inwardly amazed.