My Borderline Supervillain-Slash-Hero System-Chapter 164

The remaining assassins hidden throughout the bamboo forest no longer hesitated.

They had seen enough.

The youth's reaction speed. His effortless dodging.

The way he treated their strongest striker like a training dummy.

This was no ordinary target.

One by one, they gathered mana—violent, dense, and blazing with killing intent.

The grove trembled as nine assassins chanted mantras and wove complex hand seals.

A chorus of deadly spells erupted:

"Earth-Shattering Strike—activate!"

"Thousand Petal Swords!"

"Shadow Dance!"

"Scorpion's Pincer Attack!"

The night air twisted with magic. Leaves tore from branches, bamboo groaned, and the temperature of the grove shifted with every spell cast.

All nine assassins stepped into their peak forms while the tenth continued exchanging blows with Zane.

Then—

they flickered.

A coordinated assault swept in like a black tide.

Long-range casters launched their spells in perfect timing, weaving them between the melee fighters who closed in from every angle.

Sword-lights flew. Shadows writhed. Stone spikes erupted.

Everything synchronized.

It should have worked.

It always worked.

Except—

Zane dodged everything.

Not with flashy movement.

Not with leaps or rolls.

He simply wasn't there.

Every attack passed through empty air or struck the ground where he had been a heartbeat earlier. Spells collided with each other. Bamboo exploded. Dirt plumed upward.

To an outsider, the scene would have looked impossible:

Ten assassins dancing wildly, unleashing their most lethal techniques—

And at the center stood a calm youth who seemed to barely move at all.

Minutes passed.

Five minutes.

Ten minutes.

Their coordinated attacks grew more frantic.

Their breath turned ragged.

Their mana fluctuated from overuse.

But Zane's breathing remained steady.

His expression unchanged.

As if this was nothing more than a light jog.

Finally, after another series of desperate strikes failed to even graze him, realization dawned on the assassins one by one:

Their techniques weren't failing.

They weren't failing.

They were simply completely—

utterly—

out of their league.

The grove fell into a thick, suffocating silence as the assassins exchanged wide-eyed glances behind their masks.

Zane chuckled softly.

"What? Is this all you've got?"

His eyes swept lazily across the ring of killers.

"Fine. I'm getting bored. Let's end this."

A single thought thundered through all their minds—

Run.

Run now.

Run and live.

But before the instinct could translate into action—

before their legs could even twitch—

Zane moved.

He was already standing before the nearest assassin.

His hand rose.

A single flick.

Bang!

The assassin's head exploded like a ruptured melon.

The others saw it clearly—too clearly. The spray of blood. The collapsing body.

Their masked faces twisted beneath their grotesque visors.

Fear flooded them.

A few finally tried to run.

But Zane was faster.

He appeared beside the next assassin—

Another flick.

Another explosion.

Another corpse hitting the grass.

He did not slow.

One flick.

Two.

Three.

Bodies dropped in every direction.

Within seconds, all ten assassins lay sprawled across the grove, lifeless and still, blood soaking into the earth.

Zane stood alone among the fallen.

He looked around with mild annoyance, then sat casually on the grass.

"Are you still not going to act?" he called out, voice laced with mockery.

"Damn. All of them were just cannon fodder."

The grove grew silent again—

But this time, it wasn't the silence of fear.

It was the silence of something watching.

Something dangerous.

Something waiting.

Zane lingered in the grove for five minutes, arms crossed, eyes half-lidded.

Nothing happened.

Nothing moved.

With a long yawn, he stretched his shoulders.

"Fine! If you're just here to watch me, I'm leaving. I thought I'd get to stretch my body today."

He turned and began walking toward the direction of the Sunflower Hotel.

That was when the wind whispered.

A figure materialized before him—a tall man clad in a dark green hood. A thick white beard hid much of his face, but not the cold, predatory intent in his posture.

Zane didn't stop walking until he was three steps away.

In a murmur, he said,

"System, tell me everything about him."

Ding!

[Scanning Completed!]

[Strength: 59,450]

[Agility: 60,278]

[Intelligence: 60,200]

[Health: 65,700 / 65,700]

[Mana: 78,000 / 78,000]

[Class: 5-Star Mana Core Expert]

Oh? A 5-Star Mana Core Expert.

Same level as Shelby, Zane mused.

So what? I'll still fight you.

The middle-aged man studied him with cold scrutiny.

When he finally spoke, his voice was gravel and venom.

"Demon child… you're exactly like your devil of a father. Your combat skill is top-tier for your generation."

He took one step forward.

"But that won't save you today. I'll give you the honor of stating your last words."

Zane burst out laughing—deep, loud, uncontrolled.

It echoed through the bamboo like a taunt from hell itself.

The man's brows knotted, fury twisting his expression.

"You obnoxious devil-spawn!" he roared, jabbing a finger at Zane.

"Alright, alright," Zane said, smirking. "My last words?"

He tilted his head.

"I'll make this grove your resting place."

"That's it!" the man spat. "You don't deserve to breathe the same air as humans!"

His figure flickered.

Shadows. Speed. Death.

His right palm sliced across Zane's chest—so fast it blurred into nothing.

Had this been before Solaris City, Zane would've been dead.

"Luminous Steps!"

Mana burst into Zane's legs.

He shifted—barely.

The attack grazed him, shredding his shirt and carving four shallow lines across his chest.

The man skidded to a stop, staring at his hand, disbelief widening his eyes.

"That's… impossible."

Zane grinned.

"What are you so shocked about, old man? Is that all you've got?"

The man snarled and vanished again.

This time he moved even faster, air ripping behind him.

Zane answered in kind—flooding his legs with mana until his speed doubled, then tripled.

The middle-aged man launched a barrage of boxing strikes, each one carrying lethal force.

Blows cracked the air around Zane's head and ribs.

But Zane weaved through them—smoothly, expertly—dodging every intricate attack.

The grove erupted into a storm of motion—

a 5-Star Expert striking with the fury of a hurricane

against a youth who moved like flowing light.

And neither had shown their true power yet.