Chapter 465: My Ribs for a Thirty-Second Buff
Maki’s purr intensified, her entire body vibrating with smug satisfaction.
Little monster knew exactly what she was doing—playing the innocent cat while ntally taking notes on which of my won she could manipulate most effectively.
"I need to train," I said, forcing myself to focus on the practical concerns of surviving Wednesday’s duel.
"Against who?"
"Anyone dumb enough to volunteer."
"Raphael’s in the gym. He’s been punching the heavy bag since four in the morning." Celeste’s fingers found that sweet spot behind Maki’s ears that turned the deadly supernatural predator into absolute jelly. "Braxton said sothing about excess energy and property damage concerns."
Perfect.
Raphael would hit hard enough to test Kinetic Absorption properly. If I could handle his Kinetic Overcharge punches, I could handle most of what Reyna would throw at .
"Thanks," I said.
I turned toward the hallway that led to the basent gym.
"Satori."
I stopped, looking back over my shoulder.
Celeste’s periwinkle eyes t mine, and for a mont, all the careful warmth was gone. What replaced it was sothing sharper, more possessive.
"Don’t get hurt before Wednesday. I’d like you alive for the duel."
"Can’t make promises."
"Then lie to ."
"I’ll be fine."
She smiled—small, private, ant only for .
"Better."
I left her there with Maki, two dangerous creatures pretending to be harmless, basking in morning sunlight like they didn’t have fangs.
The basent gym slled like sweat, violence, and the distinct ozone tang of soone pushing their Aspect to its limits.
Raphael was exactly where Celeste said he’d be.
Shirtless, because of course he was.
Covered in a sheen of sweat that made his muscles look carved from bronze, each one defined with the kind of clarity you only got from either genetics or obsessive training.
Probably both.
His fists slamd into the heavy bag with rhythmic fury, each impact echoing through the space like distant thunder.
THUD.
THUD.
THUD.
Each impact sent shockwaves through the chain suspending the bag from the ceiling, the tal links rattling with the strain.
The bag swung wild on its axis, physics and force combining into a chaotic pendulum.
It ca back toward him.
He hit it again.
Harder this ti, golden energy crackling around his knuckles.
Like he was trying to kill it.
Like the bag had personally offended him and he was determined to make it pay.
"Raphael," I called out.
He caught the bag mid-swing with both hands, muscles bunching as he arrested its montum.
Turned to face .
His amber eyes were red-rimd and wild, the telltale sign of soone who hadn’t slept and was using violence as a substitute for rest.
"What," he said flatly, not bothering with the question mark.
"Spar with ."
His expression shifted through several emotions in rapid succession—surprise that I’d actually sought him out, suspicion about my motives, then sothing that might have been predatory interest.
"You sure? You’re still fucked up from the Hydra. Saw you limping yesterday."
"I’ll live."
"Your funeral." His grin was all teeth and challenge, the expression of soone who’d been waiting for an excuse to hit sothing that would hit back. "Rules?"
"No holding back. If I can’t take it, I don’t belong in the ring with Reyna on Wednesday."
Sothing approving flickered across his face, transforming his usual aggressive sneer into sothing almost respectful.
"Finally growing a pair, Nakano."
"Always had them. Just picked my battles carefully."
"Yeah?" He cracked his neck, the sound sharp and deliberate. "Prove it."
We moved to the center mat—a worn, padded square that had seen countless spars, stained with old blood and sweat that no amount of cleaning could fully remove.
No pads.
No protective gear.
No safety equipnt of any kind.
Just two idiots about to beat the hell out of each other at six in the morning because that’s what Hunters did when they wanted to get stronger.
Raphael’s Aspect activated first, golden energy gathering around his fists like miniature suns.
Kinetic Overcharge building with every passing second, storing potential energy that would explode outward with his next strike.
I didn’t activate anything yet.
Wanted to see what Kinetic Absorption could do with a completely clean hit—no Shade Cloak, no Steel Body, nothing to dilute the data.
"You gonna defend or just stand there looking pretty?" Raphael asked, rolling his shoulders.
"Hit ."
"Bad idea, man."
"Do it."
He shrugged, a gesture that said your funeral more clearly than words ever could.
Then he blurred.
Faster than I expected, even knowing his stats.
His fist slamd into my ribs like a guided missile finding its target.
Right where the regenerator brace had been attached just yesterday, probably because he’d noticed
favoring that side.
The impact was a sledgehamr wrapped in lightning and physics.
Pain exploded through my torso, sharp and imdiate.
Physics decided my body should fly backward into the concrete wall at terminal velocity.
But Kinetic Absorption kicked in before I could complete the trajectory.
Fifteen percent of the force just... vanished.
Absorbed directly into my cellular structure.
Converted into raw power with chanical efficiency.
A notification pulsed across my vision, bright and imdiate:
[TEMPORARY BUFF ACQUIRED:
5% STRENGTH,
5% AGILITY | DURATION: 30 SECONDS]
I caught myself mid-flight with a twist of my core, redirecting montum.
Landed on my feet.
Slid back three ters, my shoes squeaking against the mat.
But I was standing.
Not embedded in the wall.
Not broken.
Standing.
Raphael’s eyes widened, his aggressive confidence cracking into genuine surprise.
"The fuck?"
"Again," I said, straightening.
"You’re insane."
"Probably. Hit
again."
He charged, and this ti I dodged—let his fist pass close enough to feel the heat of his Aspect, the golden energy singing past my jaw by centiters.
Countered with a straight punch to his gut while he was overextended.
No Aspect activation.
Just physics, technique, and the five percent strength buff from his first hit.
Raphael grunted, the sound surprised and pained.
Stumbled back one step, his eyes going wide.
"You got faster."
"Keep up," I said, already moving.
We traded blows for the next ten minutes, falling into a rhythm that was part sparring, part mutual attempted murder.
Each hit he landed fed Kinetic Absorption like fuel into a furnace.
The buffs stacked with mathematical precision.
My movents sharpened with each exchange.
My reactions quickened, neural pathways optimizing in real-ti.
By minute eight, I was matching him strike for strike.
By minute ten, I was demonstrably faster.
Raphael realized it too, his expression shifting from aggressive confidence to focused intensity.
He stopped pulling punches entirely.
Started fighting like he actually ant it, like this was a real threat assessnt instead of a casual morning workout.
A spinning kick caught my shoulder with enough force to dislocate most people’s joints.
I absorbed the kinetic force, felt it converting.
Redirected the montum into a palm strike to his chest, all that stored energy releasing in a single explosive impact.
He flew backward like he’d been hit by a car.
Hit the mat hard enough to make the concrete beneath the padding crack.
Lay there breathing heavy, staring at the ceiling like he was seeing it for the first ti.
"What the hell did you eat for breakfast?" he gasped.
"Nothing yet."
"Bullshit." He pushed himself up on his elbows, golden energy still flickering around his hands. "You’re not this strong. You were barely keeping up with
last week. Now you’re..." He shook his head. "What changed?"
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