Micah looked around until he found Rego. He immediately realized what Rego was doing when he saw others groaning in frustration and handing him pol or trying to get back the pol they placed as a downpayment. Micah smiled a little before deciding to loot through Dennis' pockets himself. Since Rego was busy gathering pol his way, Micah didn't need to give him more things to do than he could handle by asking him to rummage through Dennis' clothes.
And since most of the spectators' attention was on getting back their bets, no one bothered Micah while he quickly looted twenty bronze coins. It was less than he got from Rego and Bunt, but considering that Dennis absorbed most of his pol to grow his strength, it was more than he expected.
After taking Dennis' pol, Micah stood up and looked around for the next target.
According to Rego, Dennis was unofficially ranked third in their group, which meant that there were two people above him. And if Micah wanted to subdue the entire group, he would also have to put those two under his thumb. He had been a little worried about how easy it was going to be since they were supposed to be stronger than average men, thanks to having absorbed enough pol. But it seemed like his worries were redundant.
Micah looked around the lawn and the house until he finally found someone who matched Rego's description of Chris, the second-ranked person in the group. A moderately tall man with conventionally attractive features and a well-trained body. His slicked-back blonde hair looked a little tidier than Dennis' ruffled hair, but Chris himself looked like a greasy person, personality-wise.
"You're next, then?"
With Micah pointing at him and talking to him loudly enough that the people clamoring about getting their bets refunded heard and turned around, Chris couldn't just feign ignorance.
"What is this? Some kind of dojo challenge?"
"Not at all. It's just that I'm new in town and getting to know everybody while making sure that you all also know me."
"..."
"Now, come over here and get to know me."
Micah spoke as if he had invited Chris over to join him at a bar and share some drinks. However, they were outside, there was no bar, and there was a corpse next to Micah's feet. And the corpse belonged to someone Chris knew quite well, so he was naturally not swayed by Micah's seemingly easygoing attitude.
If anything, Micah's attitude seemed to be the trigger that Chris needed to step forward and put Micah down.
"I'm not going to lie. You handled Dennis pretty well."
"He was easy to handle."
"That's right. Dennis wasn't very strong or good at fighting. But I'm different."
"Sure you are."
Micah just chuckled and raised his guard, ready to fight the man wearing a tank top two and a half sizes too small. Chris snorted and did the same, although he took a slightly bouncier stance. It was clear that he was going to do what Micah had done to Dennis and dance around his opponent to tire him out.
However, Chris had forgotten that Dennis was agitated and wildly flung his fists with all his strength in an effort to strike Micah. Micah was as cool as a rock as he waited for Chris to attack.
Realizing that he would have to make Micah move around to tire him out, Chris began attacking with light jabs. Chris' moves were faster, much faster than Dennis', and Micah had trouble dodging them all. So, he began deflecting and blocking them instead.
However, Micah hadn't taken a single step toward Chris during their fight so far. If it continued, Chris would be the only one getting tired.
But it looked like Micah wasn't that dangerous. He had just managed to play Dennis like a fool. Chris decided it was time to stop playing around. The faster he could finish the fight, the faster he could take Micah's pol.
Chris, who was jumping in place about two steps from Micah, suddenly took one large stride forward as he lunged with his entire body and swung a full-powered fist straight toward Micah.
However, he didn't see his fist strike Micah, partly because it didn't. And partly because of the dirt Micah flung in his eyes. Chris didn't even have time to think about how Micah had hidden a pile of dirt in his fist during their fight before he felt someone grab the arm that he reflexively started to retract to rub the dirt out of his eyes.
Before Chris could react, Micah tugged on the arm and turned around, which seamlessly led to a shoulder throw. Chris, disoriented by the dirt and destabilized by the tug on his arm, couldn't defend himself before Micah threw him over his shoulder and slammed him into the ground.
Getting slammed into the ground naturally made Chris lose his breath. It wasn't as severe as it was with Dennis, but he was still completely defenseless, and before he could get up or even catch his breath again, Micah put his shoe on his throat.
Chris ignored the stinging in his eyes, and he flung open his eyes and mouth as he looked at Micah in order to hurry and plead for mercy.
However, he was too slow. Before he could get even a syllable out, Micah, still holding his arm, pushed down on Chris' neck, squishing it flat. Micah let go of Chris' arm as he watched the light begin to fade from Chris' eyes after a few moments. It wouldn't have mattered even if he had managed to squeak out a word. Micah's ruthlessness was more than enough proof of that.
With a broken throat, his brain quickly lost oxygen, and Chris passed out before dying shortly after. Of course, since they were in Hell, and he was already technically dead, he would recover in a while.
Micah looked around at the astonished gazes of the spectators for a few seconds before bending down to loot Chris' corpse.
Considering how the fight had gone from Chris dominating Micah, moving so fast that Micah couldn't react and dancing circles around him, to Chris lying dead on the ground in an instant, the spectators were naturally shocked.