The Name Donquixote

Aeneas had long been exploring how to gather Grit into a slash and unleash it.

Just now, Aeneas had been heavily injured by Spring Hopper, and his Grit had surged rapidly, reaching the release threshold for Haymaker—at the same time, making him realize: why couldn't he create a new sword technique by imitating Haymaker's principles?

Aeneas immediately put it into practice. Although most of the Grit had gone to waste, the small portion that remained had strengthened his slash to the level of releasing sword energy!

For a swordsman, being able to release sword energy was unquestionably enough to enter the grand halls of swordsmanship and be called a Swordmaster.

The golden sword energy formed by Grit Swift Slash bore down on Bellamy. Bellamy watched as Aeneas casually raised the Iron Sword behind him and released a slash of sword energy.

"Damn it!" Bellamy's face twisted as he realized he could not dodge this sword energy. "How could it be so strong?!"

Bellamy felt deeply frustrated. He had always existed as a Monster in others' eyes, and he possessed an unwavering, crystal-clear faith—one for which he was willing to give everything!

He kept growing stronger so that he could reach that man!

Bellamy was unwilling to accept it. This was the first time he had been defeated by someone his own age—no, by a brat even younger than him!

How could proud Bellamy possibly accept that?

If his underlings saw his invincible legend shattered, how would they judge him?

Fortunately, they were not here!

Bellamy gritted his teeth, wanting to turn his entire body into springs at this critical moment and evade the fatal blow!

However, at that moment, a gunshot rang out. A streak of sparks and light shot through the air at astonishing speed, slicing Aeneas's Grit Swift Slash apart from the side and scattering it into fragments.

That put Bellamy safely out of danger.

Bellamy, Aeneas, and the stunned Emondi, Amos, and the others watching from afar all turned toward the source of the shot.

It was a tall, lean man dressed in cowboy clothes—over two meters tall, yet so thin that he looked like a walking skeleton.

The cowboy held a gun in his right hand, while his left rested on the large blade at his waist, still sheathed.

The newcomer's identity was obvious. He was one of the three rising stars to emerge from this Round Street Slaughter: Crazy Cowboy Andorhal!

Speaking of those three rising stars, Spring Man Bellamy was one of them as well. Though he was the youngest, no one underestimated him. He was still widely recognized as a dark horse likely to leave everyone else in the dust this time!

And now, finally...

The two rising stars had met.

"So this one is the real dark horse. How terrifying." Andorhal's voice was sharp and grating, like nails scraping across a chalkboard.

Andorhal looked at Aeneas and stretched out his astonishingly long tongue to lick the muzzle of the gun he had just fired.

"Hiss—"

Aeneas felt utterly disgusted.

"What kind of freak is this?"

Bellamy naturally heard Andorhal's words, and fury instantly flared within him.

"What do you mean?" Bellamy snarled. "I haven't lost to—"

But before he could utter the final word, Bellamy froze when he saw the conspicuous emblem on Andorhal's cowboy jacket.

Andorhal looked at Bellamy with interest.

"I saved your life, you know. If that slash had landed on you, you'd have been dead or severely wounded." Andorhal spoke in a mocking tone, making no effort to hide the ridicule and disdain in his eyes.

That made Bellamy exceptionally furious. He stared at the emblem—he could not possibly be mistaken, because he knew it too well!

It was a crescent-shaped smile, with round eyes crossed by a diagonal line running from upper right to lower left.

Wasn't that the emblem of the family Bellamy admired?

"What does the Donquixote Family have to do with you?" Bellamy's expression darkened as he stared at Andorhal.

"Me?" Andorhal seemed surprised that Bellamy had recognized the meaning of the symbol on him so quickly. "Isn't it obvious? I'm a member of the Donquixote Family."

"Heh heh!"

Veins bulged across Bellamy's body. His smile did not reach his eyes, and his expression became frighteningly dark.

"The Donquixote Family doesn't have trash like you!" Bellamy suddenly raised his head. His legs transformed into springs and compressed sharply, while his arms became twin spring cannons that shot toward Andorhal at breakneck speed.

"Spring Snipe!"

Bellamy roared, erupting with even greater strength and speed than he had used against Aeneas. In almost an instant, he closed in on Andorhal.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" Andorhal's face darkened. He had no time to dodge and could only draw his blade to block reluctantly, but the springs' remaining momentum was immense, forcing Andorhal back step by step.

"Impostor!" Bellamy clenched his fists. After his spring fists struck Andorhal, he erupted with strength again, launching both fists forward with the springs.

Bang!

Like two enormous cannonballs, Bellamy's fists slammed toward Andorhal's head. Andorhal barely blocked them with the flat of his blade, but Bellamy's explosive power was simply too great. Within moments, Andorhal could no longer resist and was sent flying.

Aeneas watched everything from the side.

"I was the main character just a moment ago. How did I become a bystander now?" Seeing Bellamy and Andorhal start fighting at the slightest disagreement, Aeneas had no desire to stay any longer and left.

"Let's go quickly. Bellamy has no conflict of interest with us. We even need him to hold off the Kam Group. We can't be dealing with Kham while we're still competing with Orton."

Emondi seized the opportunity and left together with Aeneas.

They still needed to keep stirring up conflict, and it seemed the underlings on North Street and East Street had already met with disaster—but clearly, their objective had been achieved. Otherwise, Bellamy would not have fought all the way from the District Two border of Southeast Street to the District One border.

Meanwhile, at the center of the battle, Andorhal climbed out of the rubble and glared at Bellamy like a vicious wolf.

"Brat, you've enraged me!" Andorhal dusted himself off and spat. "You're dead!"

"I'll show you that you have no right to bear the name 'Donquixote'!" Bellamy's eyes blazed with rage as he clenched his fists. His body transformed into springs once more, bouncing rapidly between every foothold in the narrow streets and alleys to build up power.

Andorhal's expression was grave, but the Beam Gun in his hand had already locked onto Bellamy's position.

"What a troublesome brat!"

The two were on the verge of battle!