The Rift of Time-Skip

"Time-Skip: Ultimate!" Hit's figure vanished in an instant.

He had not left an afterimage where he stood, nor had he teleported before anyone's eyes.

In truth, he had been erased directly from time itself, his entire body disappearing beyond the flow of this world.

He moved through the cracks of time, completely bypassing Chen Feng's frontal defenses and ignoring the disturbances of the energy field, as though even the laws of physics turned a blind eye to him.

0.001 seconds later, he appeared three meters behind Chen Feng, his right fist already charged with energy capable of destroying everything as it shot straight for Chen Feng's back.

That punch could reduce an asteroid to powder.

As the fist cut through the air, space let out a brittle shattering sound, like breaking glass.

Chen Feng did not turn around.

He did not even move his feet.

He merely tilted his head slightly, his silver hair brushing gently across his shoulder armor.

Then—at the very instant Hit's fist was about to strike his battle suit—he raised his right hand and reached back to grab it.

Bang.

It was not a sound so much as space itself letting out a wail.

As fist and palm met, a hemispherical energy shockwave erupted and spread outward with wild force.

The asteroid's crust was blown away by the impact. Layers of rock shattered like crackers, blasted upward, and finally turned into fine dust.

Rubble and dust flew chaotically through the vacuum. The shockwave expanded into a massive ring, gleaming with strange iridescence beneath the starlight.

Yet Chen Feng did not move at all.

He had steadily caught Hit's full-force strike.

His palm tightly enclosed the other man's fist. His knuckles did not whiten in the slightest, the muscles in his arm remained relaxed, and even his elbow had not bent by a single millimeter.

Golden aura flames burned steadily around him. Incoming debris and residual energy waves seemed to be swallowed up near his body, vanishing without a sound.

Hit stood frozen there, staring at his fist being held so casually in that hand.

He could still feel the energy around his fist boiling, and the Time-Skip field trembling violently, yet none of it could advance even an inch farther.

His mind went blank.

For the first time in a thousand years, he realized that he had somehow lost his understanding of combat itself.

He had just used his strongest attack.

That punch had slain interstellar warlords, destroyed fortress planets, and caused countless powerful fighters to die the instant their time was stolen.

Yet Chen Feng had caught it with one hand.

As easily as picking up a falling leaf.

"You... what exactly... are you?"

Chen Feng released his fist.

Hit's arm seemed to lose all strength and hung at his side, the energy motes around his fist fading away bit by bit.

Chen Feng turned around and clasped his hands behind his back. His damaged cloak hung silently in the vacuum.

He smiled faintly. There was no mockery in that smile, nor pity—only a calm, unwavering composure.

"I told you. I'm a Saiyan. A Saiyan who wants to change the Sixth Universe."

The asteroid beneath their feet was slowly coming apart.

Cracks spread from the point of impact toward the core. Scorching magma seeped from the mantle and solidified into black, glassy matter in the vacuum.

Starlight fell across the ruins, and over two utterly different warriors—one standing in the shadow of what he protected, the other standing at the center of a thousand years of solitude.

Hit was still standing there, his right fist held in its striking pose, his entire body seeming to be nailed in place by some invisible force.

The muscles in his arm were taut, his knuckles white from exertion, yet his fist could no longer move forward even the slightest bit.

The atmosphere around them froze. The ground of the training field lightly cracked, tiny stones floating in the air before being slowly pressed back to the ground by some invisible force.

He had lived for over a thousand years, carried out countless assassinations, and faced enemies of every kind.

He had turned desperate situations around and carved a path to survival through encroaching death. With his Time-Skip ability, he had crossed the gaps in time and defeated powerful foes far stronger than himself.

But now, a cold sensation crept up his spine.

This was not fear, but a complete, near-desperate sense of helplessness.

Not because Chen Feng had caught his fist.

But because of how Chen Feng had caught it—it had been too easy, too natural.

That hand had simply held his all-out strike steady, its five fingers clamped around his fist like iron pincers, without the slightest tremor or even a momentary retreat.

Chen Feng had not even shifted his footing, nor had his breathing faltered.

Hit's fist, powerful enough to shatter mountains, had landed in his palm like a gentle breeze brushing across his face.

The cold lights above the training field shone down, stretching both of their shadows long.

Hit watched a bead of sweat slide down his forehead, drip onto the ground, and splash into a nearly invisible wet mark.

He abruptly pulled back his arm and staggered several steps backward, his shoes scraping harshly against the floor.

He bent over, bracing both hands on his knees, his chest heaving violently as every breath brought searing pain.

Sweat had soaked through his purple battle suit, making it cling to his skin, cold and sticky.

His stamina had long since run dry. Even the small measure of concentration needed to maintain "Time-Skip" had completely vanished.

But what troubled him even more was that heart of his, silent for far too long.

He was not afraid of losing.

Over his long life, defeat was nothing new.

What he feared was losing so thoroughly, so... effortlessly.

As though the abilities he had forged through a thousand years of training and countless brushes with death were nothing more than child's play in the other man's eyes.

"You knew from the very beginning that you would win, didn't you? All of this... was within your expectations?"

Chen Feng did not avoid his gaze, nor did he display any arrogance befitting a victor.

He merely stood quietly, his black hair gently swaying in the faint airflow of the training ground.

After a moment, he nodded with certainty. "Yes."

"I need you to understand the gap between us. This is not to humiliate you, nor is it to crush your conviction. I simply have to let you see it with your own eyes, feel it for yourself—"

He paused. His gaze passed beyond Hit, as though he were looking toward someplace unimaginably distant, becoming deep and calm. "In this vast universe, in places you cannot see, there are still lives and realms that you cannot even imagine right now. If you are content with your current state, if you keep locking yourself into the identity of an 'assassin' and repeating the cycle of taking jobs, killing enemies, and collecting rewards, then no matter how many thousands of years you live, you will never reach the true heights."

Hit fell silent.

The ventilation system above the training ground emitted a low hum, while the sounds of spacecraft taking off and landing occasionally drifted in from afar.

He wanted to retort, to sneer, to demand what gave Chen Feng the right to judge his path.

But the words caught in his throat, and he could not force out a single one.

Because Chen Feng's words were like a cold key, inadvertently unlocking some long-rusted corner deep within his heart.

His thousand-year career as an assassin had indeed made him stronger, made his name resound throughout the Sixth Universe, and nearly made him forget what defeat felt like.

But it was also those countless years of repetition that had numbed him.

His techniques had grown ever more refined, his efficiency ever higher, yet he had forgotten why he had once desired strength in the first place.

He no longer yearned for breakthroughs, no longer wondered about the world beyond his limits. He merely followed a predetermined program like a machine.

"You are wasting your talent. Hit, you possess potential that even you have not fully realized. You can become ten times stronger than you are now, a hundred times stronger, perhaps even more. But you need a goal that can ignite every ounce of your will—a goal worth casting aside your past and devoting everything to pursue."

"What goal?" Hit straightened up, his voice hoarse.

A long-lost curiosity, almost painful in its intensity, slowly rose from the deepest part of his heart.

Chen Feng did not answer him immediately.