Spirit Hunting Union

"Empty it out! Dance of Fart!"

Quinn cried. While sprinting non-stop.

An air with a decaying, nauseating scent covered the alley immediately. It smelled so suffocating that Quinn himself pinned his palm to his nose.

Where did that come from? Oh, the ability!

The Spirit had covered his nose as well. While Rhen threw up vomit.

Quinn's brows knitted.

This is good. Very good! Buys him enough time to catch up before the man would hurt Rhen.

Quinn's throat thickened with saliva. And every slight inhalation was like putting the body of a rotten animal close to your nose.

'But I can still move!'

Thankfully, Quinn inched closer to the man in time.

But that was when the truth sank in. Even now, there was absolutely no way for him to deal real damages.

Maybe he tries his fists out again? Yeah, maybe.

Quinn yelled,

"I'm here!"

But he froze in place when he met the man's icy glare.

The Spirit groaned back,

"Yeah. Thanks."

What?

Then he spaced a metre to the left, away from Rhen.

Nonetheless, Quinn closed the distance.

He swung his punch with practiced precision.

But as Quinn had expected, the asshole weaved past his attack. Just with enough speed to stand by his side. And horizontally drive the beam towards his neck.

Quinn's heart throbbed.

Then it kicked in. He had once attempted a similar, sneaky attack against that girl! The golden-haired one from the Union.

As a matter of fact, he recalls how she had evaded it.

Instantly, Quinn followed the instructions that were playing in his mind.

Lean your waist away from the attack range. As fast as you can!

With that, Quinn successfully made a sidestep.

Still, the man's weapon drew a thin line across the side of his neck. Curse it!

As soon as Quinn stabilised himself, Rhen cried out,

"Are you okay?!"

Quinn stared far behind the unyielding creature. There, Rhen was kneeling. All that his face said was "fear".

Quinn nodded back.

"Yes…"

But he struggled not to wince. As the cut across his neck stung.

Anyhow, he drew his attention back to the man.

At least now, a few things were clear to him. He had the minimum agility rate to evade some of the attacks. No matter how fast the Spirit is.

And this brought Quinn to a conclusion that their strengths weren't that far apart. If there was a difference, it was just as little as the brain left in the creature, to be honest.

Quinn pants hard.

The man started approaching again.

And at that same moment, the red screen came up before Quinn,

[Mana Point: 20/40]

[Fatigue: 70/100]

[When fatigue reaches 100, you will be completely paralysed.]

Sweat trickled down Quinn's face. For some moments, he held his gaze on the screen.

He really would be unable to move any more? No wonder…

But he clenched his fists with undying resolve.

'I can finish this before then!'

Then, suddenly, the Spirit's voice cascaded to him,

"That's the solid difference between us. You guys get tired, but we don't."

Quinn's body trembled.

He took laboured breaths. It was like there were fewer air molecules in the alley.

But does it even matter? Quinn asked himself.

That he gets paralysed doesn't mean he can't keep on fighting. Even if his entire body goes against him… there's always a way to keep moving!

Willpower is more spiritual than physical.

Quinn then gave a silent command,

"Hey, you… Use up my mana point. Spend it till nothing's left. Every last bit of it… Use them up."

His tone was strong.

MP - Mana Point - wasn't a foreign thing to someone who reads manhwa.

In the blink of an eye, red flames wrapped around Quinn's fists. They gave him thrills that whispered to him,

You can do it.

With a loud yell, Quinn jumped forward. He lunged. But the Spirit dodged and slashed his chest.

Quinn threw another punch.

And the Spirit? Same thing as well.

Shoes crunched over the ground.

Blood sprayed.

The alley rang with rushed movements.

But despite losing, Quinn didn't stop. Perhaps this immense pain burning throughout his body was a need to win.

Not to back down in defeat.

Tears streamed down his face.

Still, he attacked more.

The screen popped up in his face… Curse that!

Memories built up in his head.

Of the hall! To all that the damned girl said to him! To every bloody pain he felt…

And at a perfect time, time seemed to slow down in his favour. Quinn could see the bewildered look in the Spirit's eyes. The hesitation to raise the beam again.

The kind of expression you hold when both confused and afraid!

Quinn tightened his fists.

And lunged again with all his remaining strength. So, his mana-infused fist connected with the man's face.

Pow!

…

The hit sent Mr Miller flying. And crashing into the nearest fence.

Bricks crushed beneath him. Sending a crumbling sound down the alley. He lay motionless on the rubble, half of his face now a messy paint of blood and flesh.

But, Quinn also lost his balance. And fell on his knees, panting so hard.

He noticed a shadow approaching leftwards.

It was Rhen who knelt beside him quickly and clasped his shoulders.

The high schooler's worried voice echoed,

"Quinn… are you okay?! Let's get out of here now."

But Quinn shook his head. He mumbled in a weak tone,

"I can't."

"Why?"

Quinn slowly rose to his feet. He sighed heavily.

"You won't understand."

Rhen's response came faster than he had expected,

"Have you gone nuts?! Don't you see who you are up against? He can…"

Quinn glared at him with a tilt of his head.

"And can't you see who you are talking to either?"

Rhen's lips parted. He stared at Quinn with wide eyes.

"How were you even able to know it's me? That's something to worry about. My face has changed, after all."

The question left Rhen completely speechless. But Quinn dismissed that and walked towards the rubble…

"Don't worry. I don't get anything either. Just pretending I do not to run mad."

He limped for a couple of seconds until he got close…

Quinn's legs froze. His lips parted.

The man wasn't there anymore!

'Damn it!'

He quickly spun around. Only to meet a sight that stole his breath away.

"Rhen!"

The Spirit was over there. Having stabbed Rhen in the back!

Quinn watched, breathlessly, as Rhen's body slumped onto the ground. In his own pool of blood.

"No… no… this can't be!"

Quinn cried as he dashed towards him.

But mid-step, the man washed past him. Drawing a sharp slice across his abdomen. Quinn froze.

Blood rushed out of him like a waterfall.

He slowly looked down at his stomach. He definitely saw a white material peeping from beneath his cloth.

How could this be?

The screen flashed up,

[HP: 115/120.]

[Fatigue: 98/100]

[When HP reaches zero, you will die.]

His entire body stiffened.

Multiple steps echoed from behind him. And he heard,

"I had fun."

Quinn could only ponder,

Why does he always attract danger to everyone close to him? Rhen was completely innocent. Had always been. Why?

The Spirit's shadow loomed closer. That cold voice, sharp as glass, murmured behind him,

"It's over."

Quinn's breath caught. He wanted to scream. To swing. To at least do something. But his legs betrayed him.

They wouldn't bulge.

The man raised his weapon high in the air.

And, Quinn, frozen, could only watch as the blade descended straight for his throat.