This World Can't Handle A Cultivating Bad-boy.

Chapter 75: Ch 75: The Plot.


Sharp blooms of pain erupted over his body. He fell to the floor trying to regain balance but he already knew—he couldn't draw anymore.

He could still move his hands—but barely. His muscles felt like they were both numb and burning. But the assailant wasn't backing down.

He slid into his stance like flipping a switch— calm face, but his whole body buzzing, ready to launch.

Feet spread just wider than shoulder width, the rear foot angled out, the front foot pointing toward the opponent. Light on the balls of his feet, heels barely kissing the ground, so he can spring forward or vanish back in a blink.

His knees stay bent, giving him that coiled-spring energy.

"Oh shit." Aegon cursed as he watched him take his position. He already knew who this was.

Though not remembering everyone he could always recall the most important heroes and villains in the novel. And seeing his stance alone he could already tell he was going to get his ass kicked.

The person who stood opposite him was none other than Ren Yamamoto.

• · ─ ·✶· ─ · •

Name | Ren Yamamoto.

Faculty of Elementals. | Affinity: Shadow.

Rank | Adept.

• · ─ ·✶· ─ · •

Ren Yamamoto of the Yamamoto Clan. Who's supposed to be one of the MC's, Micheal's, greatest adversaries.

Not only is he powerful and trained but his clan teaches their members the technique to temporarily sever someone's reach to Aether by targeting pressure points.

"Ren?" Aegon said carefully. "Why don't we take a breather."

Ren titled his head. "How do you know my name?"

Aegon took a step back, not answering him. And then he lunged forward. Sharp blooms of pain still lingered in Aegon's body, but adrenaline shoved them aside.

He lunged forward, fists swinging in a clumsy rush.

Ren didn't flinch. His eyes narrowed, his stance tightening, and then—like a whip crack—his rear leg snapped up.

The kick wasn't wild. It was precise. Aegon barely saw it before it hammered into his ribs, the impact echoing like a gunshot inside his chest.

He staggered sideways, coughing, but forced himself to stay upright.

Ren's face remained calm, unreadable. He stepped in, light on his feet, every movement measured. His front leg slid forward, his body coiled, and then another strike—this time a side kick aimed at Aegon's midsection.

Aegon twisted, barely dodging, the edge of Ren's heel grazing his stomach.

He stumbled back, boots scraping against the dirt. His hands clenched, nails digging into his palms. Compared to Ren he wasn't trained, not at all, but he wasn't going to just fold.

He scooped a handful of sand from the ground, flinging it toward Ren's face. The grains scattered in the air, catching the dim light.

Ren tilted his head, blinking once, but his guard never dropped. His arm rose instinctively, blocking Aegon's desperate follow-up punch.

The counter was brutal. Ren's elbow drove into Aegon's shoulder, sending a jolt of pain down his arm. Aegon hissed, teeth grinding, but swung again—wild, sloppy, fueled by desperation.

Ren slipped past it. His footwork was sharp. He pivoted, rear leg chambered, and unleashed a roundhouse kick.

The arc was clean, slicing through the air. Aegon ducked at the last second, the kick brushing his hair, but the force of wind alone made him flinch.

He tried to close the distance, thinking maybe grappling would give him a chance.

He lunged, arms out, but Ren's knee shot up, slamming into his stomach. The air rushed out of Aegon's lungs.

He collapsed forward, gagging, but forced himself to shove Ren back with his shoulder.

For a moment, Ren actually shifted. Aegon's shove bought him a second of space. He swung again, this time connecting—a fist crashing against Ren's jaw.

The sound was dull, flesh against bone. Ren's head snapped slightly to the side.

Aegon's heart surged. He'd landed one.

But Ren's eyes sharpened, no anger, just focus. He spat on the floor and reset his stance instantly, feet sliding across the dirt, body loose but coiled.

His heel tapped the ground once, then lifted.

The next kick was merciless. A spinning back kick, his body twisting with perfect balance.

The heel slammed into Aegon's chest, sending him sprawling onto the ground. Dust rose around him, clinging to his sweat-soaked skin.

Aegon coughed, spitting grit, his lungs burning. He clawed at the dirt, scooping another handful of sand. He flung it again, this time catching Ren's cheek. Ren blinked, his vision dulled for a second.

Aegon scrambled up, swinging wildly, fists hammering forward. One punch landed against Ren's ribs, another grazed his shoulder. For a heartbeat, it felt like momentum.

But atlas, counter was immediate. His leg lashed out, a low kick sweeping Aegon's shin. Pain shot up his leg, his balance crumbling.

He staggered, arms flailing, and Ren pressed forward.

Every strike was clean, efficient. A front kick to the stomach. Aegon doubled over. A hammer fist to the back. He stumbled forward, choking. Ren's footwork never faltered—light, precise, always ready.

Aegon tried to swing again, but his arms felt heavy, his body still sluggish. Ren's knee rose, striking his chest, and Aegon collapsed against the dirt once more.

He rolled, coughing, dragging himself up. His vision blurred, sweat dripping into his eyes. He spat blood, wiped his mouth, and forced himself to stand.

Calm face, body buzzing, every muscle tuned. He stepped forward, rear leg sliding into position. His eyes locked on Aegon, sharp and unyielding.

Aegon raised his fists again, trembling, his body screaming at him to stop. He shuffled back, boots dragging, but Ren closed the distance.

The final moment hung heavy. Ren's body coiled, his rear leg chambered, ready to unleash the decisive strike. His heel hovered, the air tense, the silence deafening.

Aegon's breath rattled in his chest. He knew—Ren was about to end it.

His heel came slamming down onto Aegon's head. But met metal instead.

"ARGHH!" Ren screamed to the ground in pain, clutching his heel and rolling in agony.

Aegon finally opened his eyes to see a steel pole hovering inches above his head.

The pole began to retract to its user and Aegon's eyes followed it until Micheal's arm shrunk back to size.

Micheal ran to him. Helped raise him from the ground and began dusting off his hands and knees.

"Are you okay man?" Micheal asked, sincerely?

Aegon had gotten up but couldn't believe his eyes. He continued to blink at Micheal making sure his body was actually there.

'How much did I fuck up the plot?'

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