Chapter 12: The Commander Vs Greg

Jamie and Greg were locked in, the Commander had closed off their exit with human bodies. They found themselves in a difficult predicament.

“I know only two of you are left!” he said, threatening but persuasive.

“Open the fence,we might show you mercy!”

No reply came. They stayed silent, the door still open.

This was the scenario Jamie had promised to handle—and he would have—but truthfully, they were outnumbered. They would face certain doom.

“What should we do?” Jamie inquired, his voice low.

“Just follow my lead,” Greg suggested.

“Yoh!! The talkative guy!” Greg mocked, shouting as he stepped out of the house, his voice loud enough to be heard outside.

Jamie looked at him, his eyes shouting at him to stop—stop giving them more reasons to be hated.

“Ah, the long-haired idiot!” The Commander replied, relieved.

“Why are you pretending?” Greg challenged.

“What do you mean by that?”

“You’re acting like you can’t break the fence!”

Silence fell for some seconds.

“I knew you were a bright one,” the Commander sneered.

Jamie was surprised by the revelation. All along, the Commander had acted like the fence was a barrier, but it never was. He just wanted to mess with their heads.

An evil grin formed in Jamie’s mind, picturing the Commander enjoying every second of the moment.

The fence shattered—pieces of bricks scattering across the green grass. The inside was now clearly visible.

Slowly, the Commander walked in, a grin covering his face, proud of what he had become. Strands of his hair shimmered, some strokes changing color to blue.

“You’re no longer special, Broken Shields,” he said, his gaze locked on Greg, who stood unshaken, his aura steady.

“Don’t be too cocky,” Greg warned.

The Commander laughed in return, his five minions following suit.

It was an intimidation tactic, but it never seemed to work on Greg.

For Jamie, though, it shook his head, pushing his confidence to its limits.

Chuckles echoed, then faded.

“Boys, leave this guy to m—!” His words were cut short when Greg’s surprise right punch slammed into his face, his skin vibrating from the impact.

His legs buckled—then he was instantly catapulted to the other side of the residence.

Gasps followed. Confidence surged again. They could actually pull it off.

But then—

An instant step echoed. The Commander stood up in style.

No blood on his face. Not a scratch.

His minions gasped in awe, praising their leader.

Click. Click.

He relocated his chin, the painful procedure leaving no negative effect on him.

Greg looked at him, surprised, but in a way he had anticipated the response.

“Don’t be hasty to fight,” the Commander said, his voice unwavering as he walked back toward Greg.

“Your voice bore’s me.”

“I hate that.”

Instantly, another surprise punch flew toward his face. The force had not diminished—but this time, the tide had shifted. The Commander caught the punch in his hands.

Greg’s arm didn’t even flinch. The Commander had adapted.

A loud smirk spread across his face.

“I will handle him. You take care of that kid!” he commanded.

Jamie heard the order. His heart skipped, but he stepped into a stance he remembered from a fighting game.

The minion nearest nodded. His physique was impressive—his stats surely matched.

He tilted his head, signaling the attack on the house. Quickly, they rushed with joy at the thought of easy prey.

Suddenly—

Greg’s spear beamed in his left hand. With his fingers alone, he catapulted it with extreme force through one of the minions’ heads. Instantly, the man fell, blood spilling like a fountain.

Jamie froze. Relief mixed with horror.

The minions stared at the corpse in shock. Then their shock twisted into rage.

A bloody battle was inevitable.

“Keep going! I’ll keep him occupied!” The commander said, the smirk never leaving his expression.

The attackers turned, closing in on Jamie.

“Now that you’re alone, you’re a piece of cake!” one sneered.

“I heard he doesn’t even kill!”

Jamie stood focused, still.

“This is the time I prove myself to everyone!” He thought, kali sticks beaming into his hands.

—

Greg’s system screen appeared. A bright notification:

[You’ve acquired > +50 Blue Points]

Greg glanced at the screen, his eyes blank, emotionless.

“He hadn’t used his points?”

“Yes. He was useless. I should’ve killed him instead,” the Commander replied, unfazed by the death of his comrade.

“Shall we begin?” the Commander inquired, his hand still imprisoning Greg’s right arm.

“Already did,” Greg muttered.

He tore his hand free from the Commander’s grip and stepped back a few paces.

“I will enjoy this.”

The Commander rushed forward. A single punch smashed into Greg’s gut, throwing him back. Greg twisted in mid-air, landing dramatically on his arm before pushing himself upright.

He charged back, lifting his leg slowly, collecting force. The kick aimed straight for the Commander’s head.

Two arms crossed in defense, creating a biological shield that fended off the strike like nothing. Greg slid back, instantly resuming his stance, bouncing lightly on his feet. His hands danced to the rhythm of his jumps, his face emotionless.

Who is this guy? the Commander thought, his full concentration on Greg.

Even in this upgraded form… he can still keep up with me!

But Greg hadn’t even shown his special skill. That was bad.

The Commander pressed his ring. A dialogue box appeared:

Strength: 110

Agility: 60

Endurance: 70

Speed: 70

Intelligence: 30

Mana: 60

Combat Experience: 80

“Alright. Twenty Blue Points—go to Strength. Thirty—go to Speed!”

Blue aura erupted from his body like mist, flooding the entire area.

“Is that supposed to intimidate me?” Greg provoked, his voice low, underestimating.

“No,” the Commander replied calmly, firm in his belief. “It’s to show you the difference in our power.”

Instantly, he vanished. Too fast to follow.

A deep punch buried itself in Greg’s gut.

What the—!

Before Greg could look down, another fist rocketed into his chin, sending him flying upward.

Before he could recover, the Commander rushed, grabbed his legs like he was nothing, and slammed him into the fence, breaking it apart.

Greg staggered up, unbalanced, fresh bruises forming. The attacks were taking a toll.

“My life is guided by one principle,” the Commander said, walking toward him.

“Beat the best… to become the best.”

“And that’s what I’m going to do to you!”

Greg stared at him, then at his own battered body.

Calmly, he muttered:

[Special Skill > Overhaul]

Mana surged, wrapping his body. Bruises vanished instantly. His frame grew heavy, his feet sinking slightly into the ground. His eyes sharpened, deadly, as streaks of gold bled into his hair. Intensity flooded the residence.

“What’s going on?!” the minions surrounding Jamie shouted as the pressure crushed the air.

“That’s the power of a special technique!”

The Commander smirked, impressed.

“That technique amplifies your stats,” he shouted.

“You have a good eye!” Greg replied, his voice heavy.

“Don’t worry,” Greg added, his aura flaring. “I’ll end this quick.”

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