CHAPTER 160: VOLTAGE REIGN

The arena reformed like it always did—blocks of stone shifting and settling into place, dust clearing as the system’s gears turned overhead. No one flinched anymore. Not at the smoke. Not at the sudden tremors. It had become the rhythm of this hellish tournament: calm, chaos, then reset.

Inside the observation prism, Jin stood still as the flickering lights of the roulette wheel spun again. He didn’t look tense—not anymore—but the slight twitch of his fingers against his thigh said otherwise. The wheel spun faster this time, like the system itself was eager.

Then—click.

[Combatant Selected: Joon Min-Hyuk]

Jin blinked. Then a breath slipped past his lips.

"Finally," Jisoo murmured beside him. "About time he got his shot."

Yujin nodded. "He’s one of ours. Let’s see what he learned."

Joon’s name flashed bright for a second before dimming again, followed by the next name.

[Opponent: Tamar N’ghal]

The name didn’t ring a bell for Jin, but the murmurs in nearby prisms showed it wasn’t a nobody. Tamar had fought already—and clearly survived.

The arena lights dimmed briefly, casting a spotlight over one side. A sharp whirring noise built in the air like a charge winding up.

Then, from above, Joon descended.

Not walked—descended—riding the thin, humming disk of blue-white plasma that crackled under his feet. His arms were folded. Sparks crawled across his skin like loyal pets. His eyes swept the arena with the casual air of someone who’d already calculated the win conditions.

The disk curved slightly and lowered him to the ground in one slow, smooth motion. His feet hit the stone with a soft thump, and the electric trail behind him fizzled out.

Opposite him, Tamar N’ghal stepped forward through the opening gate. Taller than Jin. Dark bronze skin and a chest covered in sand-textured armor that looked like it had been grown, not forged. He carried a massive hammer—a blunt block of compacted earth that glinted with crystal veins.

The Dokkaebi’s voice echoed across the air, smug and amused.

[Begin.]

Joon didn’t wait.

His fingers twitched—and in that instant, three orbs of voltage formed around him. Pure electric spheres, each one spinning at a different speed, humming with a hungry frequency.

The system called him "Lightning-Touched." The team just called him Joon. But everyone watching?

They saw a storm bottled into a body.

Tamar moved first—launching his hammer forward with a grunt that echoed through the arena. As it arced, Joon didn’t step aside.

He skated.

The disk reappeared under his feet with a crack and swept him sideways in a crescent blur. The hammer smashed the ground behind him and embedded itself deep into the floor—ripping up stone in a cloud of dust.

By the time Tamar blinked, Joon was in the air.

He raised his right hand—fingers spread—and the voltage orbs flicked toward the grounded hammer. They didn’t just explode.

They detonated, releasing shock pulses that rippled outward like miniature EMPs. Sparks danced along the surface of the weapon. Tamar tried to reach for it—only to be blasted back with a thunderclap that left scorch marks behind him.

Joon landed lightly, knees bent, then straightened with a faint smile.

He rolled his neck once. "I said I’d finish this quick."

From the glass prism above, Jin narrowed his eyes.

He wasn’t just fast. He was flying now—floating inches off the ground, moving frictionlessly in curves and bursts. Not teleportation. Not illusion.

Just mastery.

Tamar roared. The earth behind him split—and four jagged stone spires rose up like claws, surrounding Joon’s position.

Too slow.

Joon flipped backward midair. The disk caught his heels again and threw him upward. The spikes missed by inches, crashing together with a heavy boom.

Mid-flip, Joon formed another sphere of electricity, compressed tight like a ball of lightning in his palm.

He hurled it downward.

Boom.

The blast wasn’t large—but it was deep. Focused. It hit the ground like a drill made of thunder, cracking the stone directly beneath Tamar’s feet. The other fighter stumbled—forced to leap away—but his massive hammer was now behind him.

And Joon?

Joon was already airborne again, hand outstretched, grinning.

"Let’s try a chain reaction."

He extended both hands, and eight more voltage orbs spun into existence around his body like satellites—crackling, shifting, shifting patterns around him in real-time.

He wasn’t fighting like a lightning user.

He was fighting like lightning itself.

Tamar pulled his hands together. The sand around him spiraled up into a shield, forming a protective dome just as the first orb slammed into it. The blast cracked the shell—then a second orb hit. Then a third.

Each one louder than the last.

Each one a storm distilled into one sharp breath.

Jin exhaled, fingers tightening around the edge of the prism wall. "He’s not just faster."

"He’s unstoppable," Yujin whispered.

Inside the arena, Joon’s smile hadn’t wavered.

Not once.

Not when Tamar burst out of the sand dome.

Not when he launched another earth-laced spike straight for his chest.

The disk dipped, dodging left. Joon skidded along the air, threw a hand out—and caught the spike mid-flight with an electric grip that melted it into glass in his palm.

He tossed it aside with a flick.

Then surged forward, faster than eyes could follow.

Tamar raised his arms to guard.

Joon’s voice cut clean through the static.

"Overclock Drive."

And the sky fell with him.

The descent wasn’t a fall—it was a storm front.

Electricity surged down Joon’s body like rivers of light, twisting from his arms and channeling directly into the twin orbs at his sides. They whirled, accelerating their spin to a deafening pitch, trailing arcs that lit the air with blue fire.

Below, his opponent didn’t flinch.

The man raised a hand—and slammed it into the ground.

The floor fractured.

From the cracks, a wave of sand and stone surged upward, forming a thick dome in seconds. Not jagged. Smooth. Hardened by intent. The surface rippled once before settling into a dense amber hue, layered like petrified bark.

A shimmer of green light traced along its edge.

Item Activated: Gaia’s Embrace – Lesser Construct Amplifier

Joon didn’t stop.

"Thought that’d be enough?" he muttered mid-air, voice carrying on the roar of his descent. "Let’s see what you really invested in."

He hit the dome like a meteor.

The moment his foot struck the shell, a shockwave burst outward. Electricity crawled over the entire construct, seeking weaknesses, testing for openings. The sand hissed and turned to glass beneath the voltage—but the core held.

For two seconds.

Then—

CRACK.

The orb at Joon’s left side spun back and retracted into a hard disk. He grabbed it mid-fall, flipped forward once, and drove it like a blade into the softened section of the dome.

Boom.

The shield cracked—a webbing of fractures snaking across its face.

Below, the earth-user grunted. He was breathing hard now, one palm pressed to the stone, the other retrieving a short, square hammer from his belt.

He hadn’t spoken once.

Until now.

"You’re wasting power."

Joon blinked through the light.

The man stood in a hollowed-out crevice behind the fractured dome, calmly stepping forward.

"Overclocking without purpose burns out the system."

Joon landed lightly on the edge of a melted stone column, lightning still coiling around his ankles. "And talking mid-battle gives me time to recharge."

He snapped his fingers.

The orb retracted, spun mid-air, then shot down again—this time directly at the ground behind his opponent.

The man barely turned.

The sand caught the impact, reshaping like a wave mid-crash to absorb the kinetic energy. A geyser of glass shards sprayed upward, followed by another quake as Joon launched after the orb, both hands sparking.

He twisted in air.

Charged a right hook with raw energy.

"Voltage Bloom—Second Circuit!"

The punch landed just as the orb reached its apex.

It wasn’t just a strike—it was a detonation.

The air rippled outward in concentric rings of sound and heat. The floor beneath the earth user cracked wide, his footing shifting just enough to make his hammer swing falter.

That was all Joon needed.

He didn’t push back.

He pushed through.

He dropped into a low crouch, both feet dragging sparks, then zipped forward with a thunderclap, moving faster than his opponent’s eyes could adjust.

Another strike.

Then another.

The hammer rose to block, barely catching one—but Joon ducked low, planted a foot, and uppercutted a disk of electricity directly into the man’s gut.

Thud.

The impact lifted him off the ground.

But the sand caught him.

Not gently—but like a living cradle.

Joon exhaled.

"Man. I almost thought you’d be fun."

The earth-user didn’t respond.

Instead, the green glow across the dome’s remnants pulsed once—and the sand surged upward.

Not in a wall.

Not in a weapon.

A giant.

A towering shape formed from golden dust and cracked stone—roughly humanoid, roughly nine feet tall, and with fists the size of small motorcycles.

It loomed over Joon in an instant.

He clicked his tongue.

"Ah. So you were saving something."

The golem charged.

And Joon didn’t move.

He stood still—shoulders loose, eyes steady—as the titan’s fist came crashing down.

Then vanished in a blur of blue.

He reappeared mid-air, upside down, one foot planted on the edge of his spinning orb, surfing across a line of pure lightning.

He raised one hand toward the construct.

"Let’s see you patch this one."

"Overclock Drive – Level Two."

Both orbs clicked and rotated in sync.

Lightning condensed.

Then—

He snapped.

The orb beneath his foot launched him into a spiral. Electricity surged from every pore, coating his limbs in jagged arcs of white-blue plasma. He rotated once. Twice. Then crashed downward, both fists glowing like miniature suns.

Impact.

The golem exploded.

Not in a burst.

But in a full-on disintegration—its body dissolving into glass dust and sparks, sand boiled into air. The blast radius stretched halfway across the arena, ripping up half the stone floor.

Silence followed.

Then a slow breath.

From Joon—who stood, steam rising from his shoulders.

His opponent was still conscious.

On one knee.

Burned, bleeding, armor cracked in multiple places—but breathing.

He looked up, finally meeting Joon’s eyes.

"...You’re a monster."

Joon gave a lazy smile.

"And you’re durable."

He twirled one orb on his fingertip, then caught it with a snap.

"But durability won’t stop someone who never runs out."

He raised a hand again—one final surge, one final bolt gathering at his palm.

The earth-user lowered his gaze.

And slumped forward.

The system spoke before Joon could finish the move.

[Victory: Joon Hyeok.]

[Combatant eliminated.]

Joon blinked.

Then lowered his hand.

"...Tch. Was hoping to test a few more things."

He turned, eyes scanning the still-rebuilding arena, then glanced up toward the glass cubes above.

He spotted one.

Raised a hand in a lazy wave.

Jin didn’t return it.

But he smiled.

Because now?

Now he remembered exactly why Joon had always been the most terrifying one on their side.

And if he could still hit that hard...

Then the next rounds?

Were going to be wild.