Viltrumite, Is Your Mightiest Chat Group Fake?

Leon felt a chill run down his spine and whipped around.

The red-and-white Viltrumite Express had built up who knew how much speed and was already less than a hundred meters away.

In the blink of an eye, the fist was before him.

His reaction was lightning-fast, and he immediately made the best possible response.

He turned to face Nolan, creating footholds beneath his feet with Intelligent Atom, bending his knees and kicking off.

He retreated as far as possible, changing direction to bleed off the opponent's acceleration.

The instant the punch landed, the right hand he used to block was driven straight into his chest muscle.

His left fist took the opening to strike back, smashing into Nolan's nose.

"Crack."

He could hear fractures in his left hand, right hand, and ribs. He dealt one point of damage and took eight hundred in return—a pitiful trade.

That was the stat gap between a middle-aged man nearing a thousand years old and an eighteen-year-old kid.

Emotional Amplification!

The skill activated. Pain and pressure rapidly forged themselves into blazing battle intent, and Leon's Intelligent Atom stirred as it poured strength into his body.

After that exchange, which lasted less than a second,

he gave up control of his flight, bared his teeth, and let the force send him flying.

Away from Nolan, plunging toward the Heart of Pluto.

"Your reactions are acceptable. Your fighting spirit is commendable."

Watching Leon rapidly shrink into a dot, Nolan wiped away the blood from his nose and chased after him.

The battlefield shifted to Pluto, within its thin, freezing atmosphere.

Leon had barely broken through a few meters when he heard the sound of the other man tearing through the air. The growing figure was about to fill his entire field of vision.

"Sir, are you sure getting injured won't affect your infiltration?"

"Big words."

Nolan's brief reply came through the channel.

The fist followed. Leon's muscles tensed instantly, and he spread his limbs to brake sharply.

His whole body twisted sideways in an unnatural motion, narrowly evading Nolan's punch.

As he spun, his left hand clasped his right fist, and he drove an elbow toward Nolan's temple as they passed each other.

Sure enough, Nolan chose to defend, but that was only a feint.

His hands released, and his right hand hooked over the triceps to pin down Nolan's blocking arms.

The real killing move was—

a wide hook aimed beneath the ribs!

With an explosive boom, Leon's drawn-back left hand suddenly vanished. When it reappeared, it was already buried in Nolan's muscles.

In that second, ripples began spreading across the other man's combat suit as the fist sank deeper.

Meanwhile, the bones in Leon's hand shattered, some of them shifting enough to push up against his skin.

The shockwave blasted away the thin mist around them, carving out a hollow in the planet's surface.

In the second second, Nolan was sent flying backward, only stopping himself with a sudden burst after more than ten meters.

He clutched his side, his expression somewhat disbelieving. He did not even notice the blood seeping from the corner of his mouth.

In the third second, Nolan flashed over to Leon and, with anger in his eyes, drove him into the ice covering Pluto's surface.

Shattered ice burst outward for over a hundred meters, while enormous cracks spread from the impact point.

Leon struck back without yielding, and Nolan took the opportunity to press him down and perform a Viltrumite Plow.

A straight trail was gouged across the surface.

Every so often, their collisions shook dents into the ground along the way.

At last, they both crashed into a towering mountain range.

As the dust cleared, Leon's knife-hand was pressed against Nolan's throat, while Nolan's fist hovered over Leon's head.

The cold seeped into his body, and his mind gradually cooled as well.

He realized the training was over.

"How did I do, sir?"

"I won't be stingy with praise. You did not disappoint Craig's expectations."

Nolan wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, rose to his feet, and looked down at Leon.

To be honest, he had considered taking this chance to kill Leon.

After all, Viltrum respected only the strong. No matter what, if someone died during training, that could only be the dead person's own problem.

If you weren't weak, why did you die?

But in the end, he persuaded himself otherwise.

His own child could awaken superpowers at any moment. He needed to prepare for conquest in perfect condition.

The facts proved that judgment correct. No matter how small the odds were, Leon truly possessed the ability to kill him.

And perhaps it was an illusion, but the more this man fought, the tougher he seemed to become.

"You aren't particularly strong, but your outstanding ability to stir your emotions and your flying ability make up for that. Many veterans can't manage what you did."

Nolan extended a hand to Leon.

He really had changed.

Forget holding back—if a Viltrumite still needed someone to pull him up after coming of age, that was proof of weakness.

Apparently, in the past, doing so would earn you a chop to the neck.

Leon did not take it. After nodding, he pushed himself up and began treating his injuries.

As he did so, Nolan studied the young man, who was the same age as his own child.

Their brows and eyes looked somewhat alike, but Leon's were sharper.

"I heard from Craig that on the homeworld, you were called the child who punched the Regent."

"Cough, cough."

Leon continued bandaging himself.

It was an embarrassing story. At first, he had been the weakest of that batch of babies.

That godlike Regent had gathered the infants to display them and boost the race's morale, while also planning to use him, the weak one, as a sacrifice.

One in nine had been chosen. That was already mercy.

He had happened to transmigrate at that time. The moment he opened his eyes and saw a chubby, bearded baby with a buzz cut, it was hard not to throw a punch.

Fortunately, the result had been good, and Thragg chose to spare his life.

Nolan said nothing further and returned to Earth ahead of him.

Leon took stock of his injuries where he was.

"Training once a week, with a conservative estimate of eight or nine fractures, plus one broken hand."

But there was no denying that he had truly grown stronger.

The power unleashed alongside his emotions had not faded, and his enhanced body gradually stabilized amid the pain.

Combined with the growth brought by those two skills,

next time, he should be able to stay locked in battle with Nolan longer. At the very least, his fist bones would not fracture so quickly when he threw a punch.

Damn it, Viltrumite education, you win.

After recovering, Leon did not return immediately.

The time was about right, so he chose to remain there and watch the countdown on the screen reach zero.

[Ding, chat group update complete. New features are as follows...]

(Regarding communication, I couldn't find any scenes where Viltrum had its own independent method of space communication. There was only telepathy when Allen was present, but fighting without talking would be too dry, so I added it in. It doesn't really affect much anyway.)

Now the Pressure Falls On...

Clang~

The bell rang melodiously.

As the dismissal bell sounded, the quiet campus came alive once more.

In the corridor, baseball players in white uniforms passed football players dressed in oversized red jerseys.

They all headed toward their respective training fields.

Inside the classroom, students of different skin colors were discussing the popular Seven Wonders of the School, such as:

the magic circle that appeared out of nowhere in the sports equipment storage room and glowed at midnight.

Oda Nobunaga and King Arthur, who had changed sex in the history textbooks.

Salieri appearing in Mozart's portrait in the music room.

Naturally, none of that had anything to do with Ritsuka Fujimaru, who was focused solely on advancing to higher education.

She was buried behind the pile of books on her desk, with a blank school advancement preference form on top.

"My Japanese score still needs to improve. There are also several AP classes for the A and B groups. Only if I get As in those classes will I have a chance at the Clock Tower."

The girl repeatedly clicked her retractable pen.

"If I also had internship experience at Chaldea..."

"Uh, Chaldea?"

She had no idea how many times she had been confused by her own thoughts.

Recently, especially after coming into contact with that chat group, strange things kept surfacing in her mind.

Over the past few days, she had even started having nightmares.

In her dreams, all sorts of bizarre figures reached out to her, calling out:

"Wake up... Remember..."

She thought she had gone mad from studying history.

Especially the shield-bearing girl who had appeared yesterday. Her expression had looked so real.

Gradually, even everyday life began to feel strange to her.

"Why are football and baseball together?"

Ritsuka Fujimaru murmured to herself, then began preparing for the next class.

This class was Japanese history.

A teacher with Middle Eastern features entered the classroom.

"Today, let's discuss an extra topic. Let's talk about the history of our Fuyuki City..."

Unable to focus, Ritsuka Fujimaru switched to the live chat group.

Itadori posted a GIF in the chat.

[West China Tiger: @Viltrumite Honor Student Leon, look! Principal Yaga's dolls can even perform movements like this!]

[Orange-Haired, Golden-Eyed Evil Human: Sigh, I'm starting to envy Itadori a little. He gets to see so many interesting things.

Why does it feel like I'm the only one in the group still living a normal life?]

After sending it, she took a bag of Kikufuku from her drawer and tore open the packaging.

Before anyone in the group could respond, an announcement popped up.