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In the world of science, Tombstone's move was really nothing special. The first time he used it, he had been facing Mr. Fantastic of the Fantastic Four.

The Fantastic Four's Mr. Fantastic was named Reed Richards. He held doctoral degrees in engineering, mathematics, physics, and several other fields, and was hailed as one of the smartest people on Earth.

Faced with Tombstone's high temperature, Mr. Fantastic had not hesitated. He stretched his rubbery arm over, grabbed a fire sprinkler, and blasted him with it. Tombstone had looked as miserable as could be.

Tombstone rarely used this ability. Aside from the psychological trauma Mr. Fantastic had inflicted on him, his physical defense dropped sharply while in high-temperature mode.

And every use ruined a custom-made suit. Even if you had money to burn, it still hurt.

Tombstone looked manic, but Hayato suddenly found it dull. Perhaps it was because among the onlookers, some looked grave while others were indifferent, but none were afraid.

Tombstone's ability was fairly good among these people, and there were only a few stronger than him. Yet there was no fear in their eyes when they looked at Hayato. These people had no reverence for life, including their own.

Tombstone threw a straight punch, carrying scorching heat and killing intent.

But Hayato raised his palm, his five fingers straight, slender, and handsome.

His palm stopped the fist.

Even though that fist was as big as a casserole pot, two sizes larger than his open hand.

Yet it stopped it.

Firmly.

Giving the impression that it had not moved an inch.

Not only that, an icy chill suddenly erupted, making everyone feel as if they had fallen into an ice cellar.

Tombstone tried to pull back his fist, but found that he could not. It was stuck.

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