Illogical Strength

Asher didn't respond again; he disliked wasting his words on dumb people. 

For the Black Hound however, this was an act of disrespect. He quickly charged at Asher, using his height advantage in an attempt to grab his shoulder and restrain him

The best way to take down someone smaller and thinner was to use his height advantage to restrain them.

Despite his size, the Black Hound moved quickly, his long arms extending rapidly. If his opponent had been an ordinary guy, the attack would have caught him off guard.

Asher saw it perfectly, pivoting on his feet to dodge to the left side.

But the Black Hound didn't stop when his grab missed; he swung his hand like a whip, trying to land a backhanded strike.

Asher ducked just in time, narrowly avoiding a hit.

'That was close,' he sighed, shaking his head as he launched a rapid barrage of jabs and straights directly at the abdomen.

Targeting the midsection was more practical given the height difference, making it easier for him to land his punches.

But his opponent proved to be tougher than he anticipated. The black hound's skin felt like stone, and each punch made his fists sting.

Asher kept hitting and dodging, landing more punches with each exchange. Yet the Black Hound maintained his grin, as if the strikes were nothing.

That was what he thought at first, but after a while, he began to feel the pain taking its toll as Asher started using the bones of his knuckles to strike

Unlike the softer flesh of a fist, the knuckles delivered a sharper impact, amplifying the pain with each blow. 

"'Stop running, little man!' the Black Hound growled, frustration seeping into his voice as he lunged forward, determined to corner Asher and land a decisive blow.

This time, he sounded more annoyed. He had expected the fight to be easy, confident that he could easily take the hit. 

Asher remained quiet, focusing solely on striking the midsection.

His silence made him more intimidating; he dominated his opponent through action, not words.

"You're really dead!' the Black Hound yelled, losing his cool after being ignored. Veins bulged on his wrists as his speed intensified even further.

Enraged, he unleashed a series of powerful wide punches, each one producing a whooshing sound as it cut through the air.

The force behind his strikes was immense, capable of ending the fight in an instant. His power was at a level far beyond that of a heavyweight, leaving the others bewildered.

How could a high schooler have this much punching power?

But what was more impressive was Asher's composure. He relied on his quick reflexes, skillfully dodging while maintaining his balance.

Jabs and hits kept landing, as he toyed with his opponent, who was seething in anger after being treated like a punching bag.

Just as the Black Hound prepared to unleash another punch, he suddenly knelt to the ground.

He found himself gasping for breath as a groan escaped him, discomfort and pain twisting in his stomach. The toll from Asher's attacks finally caught up with him.

Strangely, it took so long because the Black Hound had taken a special drug to increase his pain tolerance.

While it allowed him to withstand more in the short term, it also blinded him to the fact that the punches hitting him were stronger than he realized, leaving his internal organ a mess.

'Should I end it ?' he wondered quietly as he saw an opening. But he didn't rush to finish things off."

Asher was cautious, thinking that his opponent might pretend to be injured and try to grab him. He wasn't good at dealing with grappling techniques, so he wanted to steer clear of such situations.

Even the best striker could be defeated by a decent grappler. The two fighting styles are just fundamentally different.

So, he took this moment to catch his breath because he was pretty tired, too. He had been fighting nonstop and had even run all the way here.

If not for his fighting style, which minimized unnecessary movement, he would have gassed out already.

As he controlled his breathing, he noticed that the Black Hound's veins were bulging and throbbing.

It was the same thing he had seen earlier , but something was different this time; it was more tamed and less effective, considering the thug before had been able to take more beating despite having an average body.

'Is there a new illegal drug on the street?' he wondered.

"You're really dead. Don't you know who's backing me up?" the Black Hound grumbled as he tried to stabilize his breathing.

"I don't care. So, do you want to continue?" Asher responded bluntly.