"Heh heh..."
Netero stroked his short, grizzled beard. His long earlobes drooped, and a smile like that of a demonic Buddha spread across his face.
He already knew what had just happened.
Everything stemmed from Gelman himself. He had a bad habit.
Zeno had mentioned it to Netero, and Netero had experienced it firsthand. He believed every opponent of Gelman's had experienced something similar, to some degree.
Gelman always judged his enemies by the impression they made, holding back before launching an attack.
Gelman's judgments were usually accurate. Almost always, he could kill an enemy with his very first strike, at very little cost.
But there were always exceptions.
When that happened, Gelman would quietly raise his strength as if adding weights, until he found a level that could match his opponent. Then he would stop.
He would wait for his opponent to get used to it, then break the balance at some moment. Often, he would catch his enemy by surprise and deal them a heavy blow, or even kill them.
It had been the same when Gelman fought Silva, the same when he fought Zeno, and the same when he fought Netero.
It was a bad habit.
It was a style that carried both risk and opportunity.
If Gelman failed to maintain his balance and control the pace, he might never get the chance to unleash his reserves.
Especially if his opponent was far stronger than him. This tactic would be pointless and would instead leave him wide open, putting him in grave danger.
Netero had asked Gelman why he had developed this habit.
Gelman had told him that he often had to face attacks from different times and places, from different people. These attacks were often unexpected and came one after another.
He always controlled his strength