Apocalypse Baby-Chapter 254: Don’t Die Easily

A sharp chime rang out—clear and pure, like a divine bell tolling—as soon as the proctor uttered the word for the match to begin.

The crowd erupted.

A tidal wave of cheers and chaos.

Then someone from the stands yelled:

"BREAK HIM, THARNOK!"

But... Tharnok turned toward the alien who had spoken, glaring daggers—and the alien froze.

The rest of the spectators were also shaken.

His cold gaze had cut through the chaos of the crowd, silencing it in an instant.

The roar of the arena stopped.

Everything went still.

Alex's breath slowed, wondering what was happening.

With just one look, his opponent had silenced the crowd.

How powerful must he be for the people to fear him?

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But it was more than just power. It was because he was a Vorakan.

They were a terrifying race that no one wanted to cross—so everyone avoided provoking them.

Tharnok then returned his gaze to Alex, locking eyes with him.

He stood on the opposite side of the arena, towering and still. His arms were folded across his chest—a wall of quiet confidence.

Those glowing crimson eyes stared Alex down, almost mocking.

There was nothing in his hands.

No weapon.

Just a man.

No—a monster.

Tharnok's posture was relaxed and unbothered.

To him, Alex wasn't an opponent.

He was just another weakling to be crushed.

Alex prepped himself. He wondered if he should make the first move.

But with the deadly aura emanating from Tharnok, he hesitated.

There were just too many unknowns.

So the two just stared at each other.

Alex's eyes peeled on him, waiting.

Ready.

But then—

Tharnok vanished.

Gone.

Like a shadow swallowed by the arena's lights.

Alex's eyes snapped wide.

No wind. No flash. No blur of motion.

One second, he was there.

The next—

BOOM!

Pain exploded across Alex's chest like an iron fist smashing into him at full force.

It felt like a cannonball slamming into his ribs. His body shot off the ground—

The force of the blow flinging him backward like a ragdoll.

His feet left the floor, and for a split second, nothing made sense—just a blur of stone, metal, and the deafening roar of the crowd.

The world tilted—spun out of control.

Everything went sideways.

Alex tumbled—rolling, bouncing—across the arena floor, every bit of him crashing against the hard ground.

Momentum carried him further—toward the edge of the arena, where a fall would send him spiraling into the abyss.

He could barely keep his eyes open, the shock still buzzing through his body.

Only sheer desperation saved him from going over the edge.

Mid-air, Alex twisted his body, flinging his weight sideways.

His heel slammed into the ground, scraping hard across the arena floor as he dug in.

Doing anything to stop the slide.

Sparks flew.

His body skidded—inches from the ledge.

Then he stopped.

Alex exhaled heavily.

He froze, breath caught in his throat.

His vision swam—colors bleeding into each other like a warped painting.

His eyes dropped to his arm.

And then he saw it.

It was bent the wrong way.

Bone jutting beneath the skin, white and jagged.

His fingers twitched.

Then the pain hit.

Blinding. Searing.

Like a hot blade ripping through every nerve.

Alex clenched his jaw.

It had happened so fast.

Too fast.

He wasn't one to be caught off guard—he had a passive skill that let him react on instinct.

But his dodge reflexes had been useless.

His alert senses didn't fire.

Alex hadn't even seen the punch.

Not the wind-up.

Not the movement.

Just the impact.

The only thing that saved him from getting his chest caved in was the instinctive flick of his arm—a split-second block before the hit landed.

And even that had shattered his bones.

He winced, sucking in a breath as pain pulsed through his body.

But then, his regeneration skill kicked in.

The bone shifted, slowly snapping back into alignment.

Flesh bubbled and stretched, stitching itself together like a time-lapse in fast-forward.

Muscle reformed beneath torn skin.

Alex clenched his teeth, rising slightly.

He glared at Tharnok.

He now knew why Tharnok used no weapon.

It was because his fists were the weapons.

This wasn't some tutorial monster.

This wasn't a beast lord.

This was something else.

This was a new realm player from a race forged in war.

Built for violence.

Born to kill.

And he'd almost eliminated Alex in one punch.

Tharnok didn't move after the attack.

He stood right where he had punched from, feet planted like a mountain, casually cracking his knuckles one by one.

Each pop echoed like a countdown.

A grin crept across his face—not smug.

Not mocking.

Hungry. Entertained.

Alex slowly pushed himself up, breath steady, eyes locked.

His freshly mended arm flexed, fingers curling into fists.

He couldn't afford to play games here.

This wasn't someone he should toy with—or could toy with.

So he decided to become serious.

His pupils shimmered as he activated Omni Gaze and Omni View, power surging through his senses.

His irises lit with a faint glow, shifting into something... more.

Vision snapped into overdrive.

The blur of the world vanished.

Everything sharpened—like flipping to HD in real life.

He saw the rise and fall of Tharnok's chest.

The twitch in his shoulder.

The faint hum of energy coiling through his arms.

It was like watching a machine with the casing ripped off—all the gears and wires exposed, spinning in real-time.

Alex then raised his left hand, gripping the dagger tight. Somehow, it hadn't been flung away when he tumbled.

With a focused breath, he activated Exploding Touch—a spark of energy flaring in his palm.

The aura surged down his arm, coiling around the blade. It pulsed once. Primed.

Ready to transfer on will.

Across the arena, Tharnok's eyes flickered.

His brow lifted.

He'd noticed the energy shift in Alex.

He grinned, baring sharp teeth, tilting his head slightly.

"Oh?" His voice was low and rough, like gravel-grinding steel.

"You've got tricks… Good."

He then took a step forward.

The ground cracked beneath his boot.

A burst of pressure rippled out with the motion, distorting the air around him like heat off pavement.

"It would've been a shame… if you died easily."