Chapter 52: Do What You Believe Is Right, and Leave the Rest to Me

Chapter 52: Do What You Believe Is Right, and Leave the Rest to Me

Bang—!

This time, it wasn’t a panicked shot.

After swallowing the Dream Candy · Blue (Pseudo), Chen Kong felt the searing pain that had been tearing through his body fade like the ebbing tide—only to be replaced by a surging, indescribable power bursting from deep within.

It was as if countless streams of star energy were boiling inside him, roaring to be unleashed.

And this wasn’t just an illusion.

His star energy value, originally capped at 150, had skyrocketed to a staggering 300.

Still far below Yong Amsan’s monstrous 900+, yes—but for Chen Kong, it was enough.

Because in his hands, the black gun—Night Dust—was a weapon that amplified its bullets’ destructive force according to the energy poured into it.

Until now, Chen Kong had always held back.

Because of fear.

Because of doubt.

Because of the countless things that chained his resolve.

But this time, it was different.

With death staring him in the face, all hesitation burned away.

Chen Kong poured every last drop of his star energy into the Night Dust.

The result was terrifying.

Even though Yong Amsan had already sensed the incoming attack, even though he’d shifted into his strongest defensive stance—his entire body wrapped in blazing magma, forming an impregnable shield meant to withstand anything—it was useless.

The magma he prided himself on, that molten armor he thought invincible—was instantly pierced through by the overwhelming impact of Chen Kong’s Void Mark bullet.

As the bullet drew closer to the center of his brow, Yong Amsan felt time itself begin to slow.

And in that moment, he saw it—a faceless reaper emerging soundlessly above the bullet, raising a gleaming scythe high into the air.

The scythe began to fall, but before it could touch him, fate twisted.

Mechanical Shrine—Coffin of Sighs!

Just as Yong Amsan was about to cross the threshold of death, a massive iron coffin shimmered into view, its optical camouflage peeling away as it slammed open before him, enclosing Yong Amsan in its cold embrace.

BANG!

The Void Mark bullet struck the sealed surface of the iron coffin, the impact distorting the intricate electronic patterns across the coffin’s lid—sending sparks and static crawling wildly across its surface.

There’s just one problem.

Although Chen Kong’s Void Mark could convert elemental star energy into neutral star energy, it couldn’t turn matter into nothingness.

So while his Void Mark Bullet successfully devoured the iron coffin’s coating of mechanized star energy, it couldn’t completely erase the coffin’s physical shell.

The result was the bullet failed to penetrate the iron coffin itself, and the man inside lived.

“Yong Amsan, you owe me a life.”

As the dust settled, Claude approached the iron coffin and unlatched its heavy lid.

Yong Amsan emerged from within, face cold, arrogance gone.

Gone was the smug confidence he had at the start—now, only grim acknowledgment remained.

He stared at Chen Kong across the burning supermarket and said evenly,

“Chen Kong. If this had been a fair one-on-one, I would’ve lost.”

“That last bullet of yours—I couldn’t block it. Couldn’t dodge it.”

“But, unfortunately, the world doesn’t run on ‘ifs.’”

Then, a thin smirk curved his lips.

“Still… for your courage, I’ll grant you a choice—a rare honor, mind you.”

With that, Yong Amsan slammed his fist into the nearby shelf.

The metal cracked open with a thunderous boom, and several terrified supermarket employees were revealed—huddled in the seafood section, using shattered fish tanks to hide from the spreading flames.

Before Chen Kong could speak, Yong Amsan’s palm flared red-hot again.

Molten magma gushed forth, melting the fish tanks to slag and raising a curtain of blazing fire in front of the workers—cutting off every possible escape route.

Without the water’s protection, the inferno surged toward them with frightening speed.

Death was now just a matter of time.

“Chen Kong,” Yong Amsan said, his tone dripping with cruel amusement, “will you save them and throw away your one chance to survive?”

“Or will you walk away and live, alone?”

“Choose, Chen Kong. I’m very curious to see what you’ll do.”

There was no hesitation.

Chen Kong made his decision instantly.

As he dispersed his Star Origin, his Void Mark ignited once more.

Without a second’s pause, he sprinted headlong into the roaring sea of fire.

His actions alone told Yong Amsan his answer.

But before Chen Kong could carve a safe path for the trapped workers—A massive coffin fell from the sky, crashing down toward him with a deafening impact!

Out of the corner of his eye, Chen Kong caught the mocking smile curling on Yong Amsan’s face.

And in that instant, he understood.

Yong Amsan had said he would give him a choice, but Yong Amsan had never said that Claude was bound by that same promise.

Why had Yong Amsan suddenly decided to offer Chen Kong a “choice”?

Was it guilt? Admiration between warriors?

No. It was neither.

He did it because he feared Chen Kong.

Feared that this battered man might still have some hidden counterattack.

Feared that the fight might once again slip out of his control.

So, he used the dirtiest method imaginable—to bait Chen Kong into lowering his guard.

From the very start, neither of them had ever intended to let Chen Kong walk out of here alive.

The so-called “choice” was nothing more than a cheap, cruel lie.

And now, as the massive iron coffin reappeared above his head, its shadow swallowing him whole, and as the supermarket workers were about to be consumed by the raging fire—even knowing he’d been tricked, Chen Kong grit his teeth, refusing to back down.

He didn’t even glance upward.

He threw himself forward with everything he had left, burning the last embers of his star energy, activating Void Mark once more to blast open a path through the molten flames before the trapped workers.

The wall of magma split apart under his desperate will, but the effort drained him completely.

Now, he had nothing left—no energy, no strength, no time.

All he could do was watch, helplessly, as the shadow of the iron coffin loomed larger and larger above him.

If it struck him in his current state, he wouldn’t die instantly. No—he’d be crushed, paralyzed, and left to burn alive in the blazing inferno.

And just as the coffin came crashing down—just as death’s cold breath brushed against the back of his neck—something happened.

A figure appeared out of nowhere beside the iron coffin and with a sharp, echoing kick, drove his foot straight into its side.

BOOM!

Tendou’s strike landed dead center.

The massive coffin shuddered like a mountain hit by a meteor, launched sideways with a thunderous explosion.

The impact twisted the coffin’s metal body midair; sparks rained down like a storm of stars as it screeched across the floor, grinding deep gouges into the tiles.

At last, the iron coffin crashed into a distant shelf and disappeared beneath a collapsing heap of goods and debris.

Chen Kong blinked in disbelief, lifting his head just in time to see Tendou.

Amid the swirling fire and falling ash, his silver-white hair whipped wildly in the furnace wind.

Those pale blue eyes glimmered like calm ice over a sea of flame, locked unflinchingly on Yong Amsan and Claude.

The usual trace of laziness was gone from his face.

What remained was a chilling stillness, and the kind of cold fury that belonged only to someone who had already decided the outcome.

In Tendou’s gaze, the two men before him weren’t foes anymore.

They were corpses.

“T–Tendou—?!”

Chen Kong’s voice trembled.

Without looking back, Tendou replied quietly,

“Go, Kong. Do what you believe is right. I’ll handle the rest.”

“…Okay.”

Without any hesitation, Chen Kong dashed straight into the inferno, vanishing behind a wave of heat, determined to save the last few trapped workers.

Meanwhile, as the air grew thick with pressure—a suffocating force that made even the flames flicker—Yong Amsan and Claude instinctively stepped back, every nerve screaming danger.

Tendou’s voice cut through the crackle of burning shelves—calm, almost conversational.

“I heard you like forcing people to make choices.”

“Then I’ll be generous, and give you one too.”

“You can bite your tongue and die right now—”

The words faded—and so did Tendou’s figure.

In the blink of an eye, he was gone from where he stood—and reappeared less than half a meter in front of Yong Amsan.

No sound.

No afterimage.

Tendou’s hand was already raised, one finger resting gently against Yong Amsan’s brow.

A black sphere of energy, dense and silent, coalesced at his fingertip—its aura heavy with the chill of the grave.

“—or you can choose to die by my hand.”

Stellar Technique—Dark Grey!

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