Sir, the times have changed... how strange.

Watching Moke lunge toward him as if he had suddenly lost his mind, Lude instinctively dodged to the side.

In Lude's view, this move was incredibly foolish; after all, a rapier did not require much force to pierce an enemy's body, and such a forward lunge only exposed one's own flank to the opponent.

However, the scenario Lude had anticipated—Moke losing his balance and scrambling to turn around after missing his desperate strike—did not occur. Instead, Moke slid right past Lude's side!

That lunge had been a feint, and his true objective was...

The gun!

After maneuvering around Lude's blockade, Moke darted to the side of Matos's corpse, held Lude at bay with his sword in his right hand, and snatched up the pistol lying next to the body with his left.

"It's over," he whispered, his thumb pulling back the hammer of the pistol.

Moke's proficiency in close-quarters combat was quite high, and he had naturally undergone systematic training in the use of the rapier. While this ancient melee weapon had fallen out of favor in modern combat, it remained a beloved choice for duels among gentlemen.

The standard application of a rapier involved holding the sword in the right hand while utilizing various off-hand weapons for coordination.

Overcoats, cloaks, parrying daggers, bucklers, torches, and even flintlock pistols.

Pistol bullets could cause Lude's movements to falter briefly, and if they struck vital areas like the eyes, they could even cause severe damage; this was something Moke had deduced from Lude's previous reactions to gunfire.

Based on their exchange just now, Moke estimated that with the support of the pistol, he could overload all the cybernetics on his body for a short burst, which would be enough to put three holes in Lude!

Yet, at that very moment, he noticed the expression on Lude's face change. That expression was...

...Disappointment?

"Preparing to use a gun? Does that mean you have no other sword techniques you're more confident in?"

Lude spoke with a hint of helplessness, his tone carrying a faint sense of dissatisfaction.

Hearing this, Moke was slightly stunned, only to hear Lude sigh: "Forget it, being able to learn this much is already not bad."

"After all, I can tell that you aren't exactly professionally trained, are you?"

"Your swordsmanship, from a technical standpoint, is actually quite crude, amounting to nothing more than speed, precision, and ruthlessness... and I have already mastered those three points."

"So, it is time to end this fight."

"After all, my weakness is that I have never systematically learned how to kill people or how to use weapons in an elegant and lethal manner."

"But if we are talking about fighting dirty and playing underhanded, I have the confidence that I am second to none."

A bead of cold sweat slowly trickled down Moke's temple. Although he hadn't been particularly confident before, he had still experienced many battles alongside his teacher.

Yet Lude's words lacked the bravado of someone backed into a corner; there wasn't even a hint of someone trying to psyche themselves up in the heat of battle.

Moke could only sense one thing from Lude's aura: the confidence born of absolute certainty.

He was truly certain he could win—the kind of certainty that left no room for doubt!

What was even more terrifying was that Moke realized he couldn't guess what Lude was going to do next!

Since he couldn't determine the enemy's intent, he would use a preemptive strike to disrupt the opponent's actions; as long as the enemy's plan couldn't be executed, that was as good as success!

Thinking this, Moke aimed at Lude's left eye and pulled the trigger.

However, facing the flash of fire from the muzzle, Lude simply raised his hand and grabbed the shoulder of his overcoat.

Then, he spun his body in the opposite direction, dodging the bullet while throwing the overcoat toward Moke!

The moment his vision was obscured, Moke realized the situation was dire.

His sword tip flicked slightly in mid-air, batting the overcoat away.

But the instant the coat was cleared, he saw Lude's smiling face behind it.

The next second, a small glass bottle flew toward his left hand.

Moke pulled the trigger almost instinctively, and the bullet instantly shattered the glass bottle. The bottle burst into a spray of fragments, but the liquid inside followed its momentum and splashed entirely onto his left hand with a wet thud!

"Ah—!!!"

Accompanied by a wisp of green smoke rising from his left hand, Moke let out a shrill scream, and the revolver slipped from his grasp and hit the ground.

The impact of the pistol hitting the floor caused the cocked hammer to snap shut.

With a loud bang, the recoil sent the revolver spinning under a nearby seat.

But Moke had no time to retrieve the gun, for his left hand had turned completely black!

Sulfuric acid—this stuff was part of Professor Beshe's inventory, yet now it was being used by Lude to brawl.

Even with the heart-wrenching pain radiating from his left hand, Moke did not lower his guard.

Upon noticing Lude approaching him, he immediately raised his sword to point at Lude, assuming a defensive stance.

He hadn't expected, however, that Lude would not swing his sword to clash with him this time. Instead, Lude twisted his blade to catch Moke's rapier and shove it aside, then kicked Moke in the knee the moment his guard was wide open.

Another scream followed.

Lude was strong and heavy; this kick drove Moke's meniscus to the side, causing the entire knee joint to buckle backward.

The intense pain made Moke break out in a cold sweat, and the shattered leg caused him to lose his balance instantly.

Yet, being well-trained, he did not collapse; instead, he rolled on the ground and stabilized himself in a half-kneeling position.

However, the moment he steadied himself, a crisp gunshot rang out, and a bullet struck him precisely between the brows, sending him falling backward.

With the help of the subcutaneous armor, the .38 caliber bullet failed to penetrate Moke's skull, yet the immense impact still left him reeling in a daze.

Amidst the vertigo, he vaguely heard the sound of footsteps ringing in his ears.

He realized that Lude was approaching, so he instinctively thrust his sword forward, and then—

He missed.

Lude dodged the strike with ease, then backhanded the Dragon Tooth Sword into Moke's chest.

"It's over."

Lude supported Moke with his left hand as he slowly sat him down in a chair, while his right hand snatched the nail sword from Moke's grip: "I pierced your liver, not your heart, so you have about three minutes left. Do you have any final words?"

Moke shook his head weakly: "No need... My only kin was my teacher."

He looked at his teacher's corpse with nostalgia and whispered: "I have always been an indecisive fellow. Teacher treated me like his own son, so naturally, he was frustrated by my lack of progress. Until the day he passed, I never once made him proud."

"But thank you; at least when we meet again, I can tell him that I did not let him down."

"You will."

Lude smiled and patted Moke on the shoulder: "You are the most respectable opponent I have encountered since coming to this world; your resolve shines as brightly as a diamond. If I were the old Brandon, I would certainly be proud of you."

"Besides, Moke, I must tell you: being defeated by my hand is by no means a disgrace."

"Are you... are you someone very formidable?" Moke asked with curiosity.