My Magical Girl System

Morrow’s punch came in fast and heavy, forcing Andrey to activate Phantom Step to evade. The air displaced by the blow ruffled his hair as he reappeared a few feet to the side.

’Luckily, my opponent is fighting without refined technique—which means I have a chance to win. With Overdrive, I can reach S-rank territory. But I need to use it at the right moment.’

He moved forward, Ki flowing into his fist as he drove a precise strike into Morrow’s cheek. The impact was sharp, clean—a spray of blood flying from the larger man’s split lip.

The crowd erupted. A voice from the stands shouted, "You can do it, Mr. Manager!"

Another voice joined in, raw with excitement. "That was a solid hit! He made Morrow bleed!"

Morrow straightened slowly, rolling his jaw. His tongue probed the cut on his lip, tasting blood. He spat, and a single broken tooth tumbled from his lips, landing with a soft tap against the stone floor.

Morrow’s grin widened. "Heh. It’s been a long time since I’ve bled."

His aura shifted. The air around him grew heavier, denser, pressing against Andrey’s senses like a physical weight. The crowd’s roar swelled as they sensed the shift, the bloodlust in the arena rising to a fever pitch.

Morrow’s voice dropped, carrying an edge of cold excitement. "You’ve earned my attention, manager."

Morrow lunged forward again, his massive frame moving with surprising speed. Andrey braced himself, raising his arms to block—but the impact was devastating. The force of the blow sent him skidding backward, his boots carving deep furrows in the sand. His chest burned as Damage Absorb flared to life, the red glow flickering beneath his torn shirt.

Morrow didn’t give him time to recover. Aura began to coalesce around his fists—a thick, dark red energy that pulsed like a living heartbeat, coating his knuckles like liquid fire. His dead eyes gleamed with cold anticipation.

Andrey met him head-on, Ki flowing into his own fists as he tried to match Morrow’s rhythm. His strikes were precise, his movements sharp, but Morrow’s raw power and endless experience in the ring made every exchange brutal. Blow for blow, Andrey was being pushed back.

Morrow’s fist slipped through his guard and slammed into his chest. The impact lifted Andrey off his feet, sending him hurtling backward across the arena. He hit the ground hard, rolling, a sharp pain flaring through his ribs, blood spilling from his lips as he came to a stop.

The announcer’s voice boomed through the speakers, carrying a theatrical edge of excitement. "The Rookie Manager has been sent flying! It seems the weight of experience is finally catching up to our ambitious challenger!"

The crowd erupted, a wave of cheers and jeers washing over the arena. A voice from the stands shouted, "He’s still getting up! Look at him!" Another joined in, raw with disbelief. "He took a hit from Morrow and he’s still standing?!"

Andrey pushed himself up slowly, brushing the dust and blood from his torn shirt. He let out a tired sigh, adjusting his cracked glasses with a steady hand. "Seems like I’ll need to buy a new suit after this."

Morrow’s lips curled into a cold, mocking grin. "Don’t worry about that—you’ll be getting one in hell soon enough."

He lunged forward again, his assault more brutal than before. Andrey activated Phantom Step, his form flickering as he weaved between strikes, but Morrow’s raw experience in the ring allowed him to anticipate the movement. A heavy hand caught Andrey by the collar, and with a grunt of effort, Morrow hurled him across the arena like a ragdoll.

Andrey hit the ground hard, rolling, the impact forcing a sharp grunt from his lips. He pushed himself up to his knees, blood dripping from a fresh cut on his forehead.

Morrow walked toward him, his footsteps heavy and deliberate, his voice carrying a cold note of curiosity. "Why aren’t you using your weapons? There’s no rule against it here."

Andrey rose slowly, wiping the blood from his brow with the back of his hand. "I don’t want to use them."

He took a step forward, his stance shifting, his Ki beginning to flow more freely through his body. "I want to beat you with my own hands."

Morrow’s grin widened, a flicker of approval in his dead eyes. "Then let’s see how long that conviction lasts."

They clashed again, this time with equal ferocity—Morrow’s raw power meeting Andrey’s unyielding will, the arena shaking with the force of their collision. The crowd roared, the announcer’s voice rising to match the intensity of the fight, but Andrey’s focus remained fixed on the man before him.

Andrey moved with fluid precision, slipping past Morrow’s guard and wrapping his arm around the larger man’s throat in a tight chokehold. His muscles strained as he locked the hold, cutting off Morrow’s air supply.

But Morrow’s experience in the ring was too vast. His massive hand shot up, grabbing Andrey’s arm, and with a brutal twist, he pried the hold loose. Andrey was forced to release him, stumbling back as Morrow’s aura flared violently—a thick, oppressive wave of dark red energy that pulsed around his body like a living storm.

Morrow’s voice dropped, cold and commanding. "You don’t have a chance of winning, manager. Surrender now, and I’ll make your death quick and painless."

Andrey steadied himself, his gaze unwavering despite the blood still trickling down his face. "I can’t surrender. I can’t afford to die here."

Morrow’s eyes flickered with a hint of disappointment. "A pity."

He lunged forward, his aura surging around his fists.

But Andrey was ready. The stored energy from Damage Absorb blazed in his chest, and he released it all at once—a shockwave of raw, accumulated force that slammed into Morrow’s chest, staggering the larger man.

Andrey didn’t give him time to recover. He pressed forward, his fists a blur of motion. One strike. Then another. A third, a fourth—each blow landing with surgical precision, driving Morrow back step by step.

The final hit sent Morrow skidding across the arena floor, his massive body crashing into the wall with a thunderous impact.

The announcer’s voice boomed through the speakers, laced with disbelief. "Clean hit!!! The Rookie Manager just landed a devastating combo!!!"

The crowd erupted, a chaotic wave of roaring cheers and disbelieving shouts washing over the arena.

A voice from the stands shouted, "He actually did it!!"

Another voice joined in. "The manager’s got hands! I can’t believe what I’m seeing!"