Standing in the middle of a giant crater with black mist covering the entire area, Apollo raised his clenched hand.

A stinging pain shot from his right fist—the one he'd used to punch the Devil. It was covered in cuts, with black blood oozing out, stretching all the way up to his elbow.

"I didn't see it," Apollo muttered, a frown creasing his face. He recalled what had happened… and still, he hadn't seen a single thing—how his hand ended up in this state.

"You f*cker!"

Suddenly, a thunderous voice reverberated across the Wadis.

Turning toward the sound, Apollo saw the Devil floating high in the sky.

Their robes and hair fluttered wildly from the intense wind, and black water covered their body like armor.

Apollo narrowed his eyes. He could see pure rage etched into the Devil's face.

"What do you mean I'm a fcker?!" Apollo shouted back. "Did I fck your mom or something?!"

Then he raised his middle finger in a taunting gesture.

Although the Devil didn't understand the meaning behind the raised finger, Apollo's words alone were enough to ignite their fury, erupting in a violent burst of pressure.

"You will pay for what you did!" the Devil roared in rage.

The Beggar lowered his stance, preparing for combat.

This guy did something to my hand… I have to be very careful, Apollo thought as he began gathering the surrounding Qi, refining it into his own and directing it into his Core.

Within seconds, his Core beneath his Dantian began to overflow.

Apollo quickly cycled through the Techniques stored in his mind to boost his strength—Simple Movement Technique, Simple Sword Technique, Water Blade Disintegration Technique, True Hardening… every variation that could help him was activated.

Unlike the original Apollo Leone, the current Apollo couldn't combine all the Techniques into one flashy, powerful move—the kind he had seen. For some reason, every time he tried, the Techniques refused to merge.

But he could still use them in tandem, allowing his body to draw power from each without forcing them together.

"Come!" Apollo shouted, his blue aura from the Great Serpent Ascendant Technique flaring even brighter.

But just as his voice echoed—

The Devil blurred.

Apollo's instincts screamed. He dropped into a defensive stance, ready to counter—but no attack came.

"What the…?" Apollo blinked, stunned, staring at the now-empty space in the sky.

Then he spotted it: a black streak far in the distance, flying fast.

"This motherf*cker ran?"

Apollo stood there, speechless. He had braced for a battle—and the bastard was fleeing.

He shook his head and gave chase without hesitation.

A loud bang echoed behind him as he launched forward, using a variation of Wind Blast. The modified Technique blasted him off the ground like a rocket, and combined with his other abilities—and the natural flight granted to a 4th-Step Qi Condensation cultivator—Apollo shot through the sky, instantly closing the distance to the fleeing Devil.

"Hey! Why are you running? Why… are you running?!" Apollo shouted, his tone weirdly playful, seemingly trying to mimic a meme from his previous life.

"I'm not running away!" the Devil shouted back, clearly trying to increase their speed.

But Apollo fired off one explosive Wind Blast behind his back—and instantly caught up.

This time, he appeared in front of the Devil. Raising his hand, he delivered another punch, layered with multiple offensive Techniques.

"Don't try to push your luck!" the Devil snapped—but instead of meeting the blow head-on, they suddenly stopped mid-air and 'jumped' backward.

Apollo's frown deepened.

Why the fck is this Devil dodging?* Shouldn't this bastard be fighting him head-on instead of acting like some scaredy-cat?

From Apollo's first impression, this Devil was cunning and powerful—someone unafraid of a battle. But what he was seeing now? It completely contradicted that.

The turn of events confused him, and the more he thought about it, the more frustrated he became.

It was like realizing all the answers he'd been so confident in… were actually wrong.

Apollo started doubting himself for no reason, scared that he'd met an opponent strong enough to kill him instantly.

But the poison is real… I'm going to die in 30 minutes. Then why the hell does this Devil not seem to want to fight me? Apollo thought as he slowly floated toward the Devil—who only responded by floating back.

"I don't understand what's wrong with you," Apollo said, voice cold and low. "Let's fight. I don't care about your bllsht challenge anymore."

"Fight? The Contract only said that you lose if you run away. It didn't say anything about me runn— going somewhere before coming back," the Devil said, tone flat. Their face was calm, but the air around them shifted, becoming once again serious and enigmatic.

Apollo didn't respond. He knew the Devil was technically right.

But there was no real Challenge. No Contract. That was all bullsh*t the Devil made up just to poison him. And because he didn't know much about Devils, he fell for it.

That thought pissed him off every time it crossed his mind.

"Alright, you're right… but…" Apollo narrowed his eyes, glaring. "Do you want to know my answer? I'll tell you now."

"Oh? Then tell me," the Devil said, raising an eyebrow. "But don't come near me. If you try to attack me one more time, the Challenge ends with me as the winner."

Apollo stopped mid-air. They were only a few meters apart now.

"Your lie… you f*cking lied about everything. This Challenge, this Contract—it's all a lie you made up to poison me. Am I right?"

The 'Devil' went silent.

Their eyes twitched, just briefly, before they quickly turned serious again. That tiny movement, along with the sudden heavy breathing—which calmed almost instantly—was all caught by Apollo, who had heightened his senses to pick up everything. He wasn't going to let himself be blindsided again.

Eyes shaking. Breathing heavy. Lips twitching.

It was fast—but it happened.

And from those small, nearly imperceptible reactions, Apollo formed another theory, one that had the highest probability of being right.