Witnessing the severe beat-down they were receiving, some of the men could not help but hesitate to attack.
"Where are you from young chief?" One of the men who was grimacing in pain from a kick to the shin finally took the opportunity to question Mwana. At this point, no one dared to continue attacking.
"Hoooo, now it isn't 'bastard', 'rascal', or 'uncircumcised brat' anymore. It is now young chief?" With a throaty laugh and a mocking smirk plastered across his face Mwana could not control his tone as he replied.
Internally, he kind of felt gleeful that these jerks were finally learning their lesson. In fact, he was doing his best to prevent a wide grin from breaking out on his face. 'It is soooo hard to be a good guy, haish.'
After gathering himself, Mwana continued questioning the man who had asked his origins, "Where am I from? What are you asking? Don't all humans come from the same place? Hmmmm or are you asking my origins? Are you asking for the specific location? Or is it the village? Hmmm, even if you knew everything about my background, it would not help you much, that probably means you are asking about the organization I come from right? Preferably a rival force? Someone you can dump the blame on to your bosses?"
"Right right, at least let us know on whose behest you are doing this? Who sent you?"
The man did not deny Mwana's reasoning and shamelessly admitted his purpose. If they did not succeed today, at least they would have someone to blame. If it was a rival gang like the Umbrella Assassins then even better. Their superiors might even feel bad for them and seek revenge on their behalf rather than punish them for the failure.
"Well sorry to burst all your bubbles, but this was completely random. If you did not destroy my things, insult me, refuse to pay up, and even attack me, none of this would be happening. There is no higher force! Your actions are the only thing that led to this moment…" Before Mwana could finish his statement, someone managed to grab onto him!
Code G, the Grappler!
"Got you…" The man happily exclaimed.
"The fight is won!" Everyone else let out a sigh of relief.
Why did they have so much faith in this man? Well just like his name, once Code G got a hold of someone, the fight was pretty much over. That was how lethal his grappling skills were. Takedowns, locks, sprawls, groundwork, submission holds, etcetera he was simply the best. However, what everyone else failed to notice was the change of expression once the man firmly caught Mwana. His smile was short lived as he had only caught an afterimage!
"You want to catch me?" Mwana quipped as he speedily slipped past the man's outstretched hands and delivered a high knee to his opponent's stomach.
Before the man behind his current opponent could circle around, Mwana had already stepped back and delivered another devastating attack. As this was a back alley of a mostly business area, the buildings in this region did not have residents at night. Their entrances were also located on the opposite side facing the main street. However, there were a few buildings with heavy steel back-doors at the back-street mostly for throwing out trash and bringing in supplies; stuff like that. It was at one such thick metallic back-door that Mwana dug his fingers through the reinforced bricks of the building and literally dug out the door to forcefully open it. In the process, he broke the reinforced metallic lock like it was a withered stick.
When Mwana's opponent charged at him, he was met face first by the forcefully opened thick metal door. He was rammed so hard that his face flattened, his nose broke, and his teeth shot out of his mouth like bullets before the man himself flew out faster than he had charged while spinning in the air dozens of times before crashing down. The force that hit him was so powerful that his flying body cleaned out 2 more men behind him before coming to a stop.
"Demon King, Binding Grasp."
Before Mwana could relax after taking down that gang member, a shocking attack approached his back threatening to tear him apart. With a roll, he was able to narrowly evade the attack but a large boulder and a wooden chicken coop in the attack's path were not so lucky. If any chickens had been in there, they would have instantly been ready for the table. The technique easily tore through solid rock and carved through wood like it was butter.
The attacker was Code D, the Demon; someone who used grasping and tearing hand techniques. His hands were like a demon's claws: black-red with purple veins. Whatever physical martial arts he had practiced, it had even changed the structure and appearance of his arms.
"Whaa, you almost tore my overcoat, my mother made this for me." Mwana exclaimed in shock. That had truly been close. His roll on the ground immediately transitioned into a spin that took him in the before he launched a jump spin kick. At the point where Mwana leg and the Demon's hand collided, a loud burst like an explosion emerged blowing the rocks, leaves, and sand in the vicinity away.
After the collision, both opponents separated but Mwana was once again on the Demon's neck. In an instant, a horrifying kick approached the man's neck. From the force alone, the Demon realized that it was far more powerful than the boy's previous kick. 'What are kids nowadays eating!' Even for a stone-faced man like him that never showed emotions, he could not help but lament internally. He felt as if this kick would decapitate him or at least fracture his neck.
'At this distance, I cannot dodge it!' With that in mind, he could only guard with his hands.
Craaaack!
It was an unmistakeable sound; the breaking of bones.
"Did that brat break his legs on the Demon's steel-like claws?" Although someone asked the question, no one answered. At this point the gang-members morale was down and even if they won, they would not believe it for at least a few minutes. Even the person who asked the question did so in a doubtful tone.
Expectedly, Mwana's next words confirmed their worries, "You are lucky. If you had actually torn my overcoat, a broken arm would seem like mercy to you. In fact, you would have welcomed it."
Mwana was naturally concerned for this coat as with his mother's weakening condition, it was the last thing she had made for him with her own hands. At several moments, he even had to pry the sewing materials and needle from her arms due to her tremoring hands.
In the clash with the Demon, Mwana was indeed the victor and his opponent retreated with one of his arms drooping like a broken stem. The hardened skin on the Demon's left arm fell off like flakes of hardened paint. His bones had been broken and his demon skin had been shattered. What technique could possibly be strong enough to cause such damage?
100 Iron Breaker Kicks – this was a derivative technique of the [100 Steps in an Instant] movement technique. After all, 100 steps could be translated into 100 kicks. If you could run fast, naturally you could also kick fast. The Iron Breaker Kick was a kicking style that utilized absolute speed to deliver extremely powerful kicks. After-all speed is power.
In the short clash between Mwana and the gang, 3 strong fighters had already suffered a crashing defeat and 6 more mid-level fighters had been moderately to severely injured. How did a simple mission turn into such? Suddenly, the young boy before them looked like a demon even more than their own member, the Demon himself. If things continued like this, they could only rely on their reclusive leader who always hid in the shadows, Code A, to resolve this matter.