"And one more thing. Before you make your judgment, I suggest you see what we can do, then make your decision."
The tapping stopped.
Morton's gaze lingered on Turles for a few seconds.
He turned to the communications soldier beside him and gave a brief order.
"Send for Carl."
Carl.
The strongest warrior under Morton's command.
The Northern First Military District's undisputed strongest fighter.
The guards, who had stood like statues, seemed to straighten even further. Something indistinct entered their eyes.
It seemed to be anticipation for the show that was about to unfold.
Soon, the alloy door to the command room was pushed open from outside.
A tall male Karenian walked in.
His skin was grayish white, his shoulders were as broad as a wall, and a fierce old scar ran from his left eyebrow to his right cheek.
He wore a dark combat uniform different from those of the ordinary soldiers, with no insignia of rank.
But the moment he entered, the four elite guards behind Morton all instinctively followed him with their eyes.
Morton looked away from Carl and back at Turles.
"Allow me to introduce him." Morton made no attempt to hide the pride in his voice. "This is Carl, the strongest warrior under my command, with a power level of 5,500."
He paused.
"On all of Planet Karen, apart from those two so-called 'super soldiers' of the United Government, no one is a match for him."
Morton leaned forward, scrutinizing Turles and his two companions.
"Proving your strength is simple."
"Defeat my subordinate."
A deathly silence fell over the command room as his words ended.
Then a quiet chuckle broke the silence.
It was Turles.
A low, contemptuous laugh.
Daiz laughed too, his laughter more direct.
Morton and the others could all hear the mockery in it.
They all frowned.
Had they said something funny?
To Turles, it really was funny.
Although a power level of 5,500 might not have been considered weak even in the universe,
Daiz, the weakest of the three present, had a power level of 9,000.
This so-called "test" was nothing short of a farce.
Turles turned his head and glanced at Daiz.
"Then I'll leave it to you."
"Go easy on her. Don't kill our ally."
Daiz grinned, nodded, and stepped forward.
His movement made the four guards behind Morton instinctively tighten their grips on their rifles.
Carl folded her arms across her chest and looked down at Daiz.
In his eyes, this fellow with short, light blue hair was thin, not even particularly well-built, and had nothing to do with the word "warrior."
"Follow me."
Morton stood and led them toward the side door of the command room.
Through an alloy door was a separate, reinforced training room.
It was not large, and all four walls were made of military-grade energy-absorbing material with a dull metallic sheen.
Carl walked to the center of the room and loosened her neck and wrists, her joints giving a series of crisp cracks.
He looked at Daiz across from him, his voice carrying a condescending contempt.
"Outsider, I'll hold back. I won't kill you."
Daiz merely tilted his head slightly, the curve of his lips unchanged.
The next second, Carl moved.
His figure vanished from where he stood, and the wind from his punch made all four walls of the training room hum.
On Planet Karen, that punch was enough to break through fortifications made of any known material.
Morton stood at the edge of the room with a confident expression, already prepared to see the presumptuous outsider sent flying by a single punch.
But Daiz simply leaned casually to the left.
Carl's fist, powerful enough to split mountains and shatter stone, brushed past his ear without touching a single hair.
The expression on Morton's face froze.
Carl's pupils contracted sharply. He had not seen how his opponent dodged at all.
A second punch followed, then a third.
A storm of combination attacks, each punch powerful enough to make the air crack.
But every attack missed.
Morton's eyes widened further and further, his initial confidence giving way to confusion, then incomprehension.
How was this possible?
Carl finally realized something was wrong.
He abruptly jumped two steps back to open up some distance and let out a shout.
A scorching aura erupted from the surface of his body, raising his power level to its limit in an instant.
The air pressure in the training room rose.
He gathered all his strength into his right fist, energy lighting up its surface, then sent the long-charged heavy punch straight at Daiz's face.
This time, Daiz finally raised a hand.
He held out his palm against Carl's fist.
That force, powerful enough to split mountains and shatter stone, struck a single palm and came to an abrupt stop.
Carl's fist sat in Daiz's palm, motionless.
The veins bulging on his arm still throbbed, and the strength of his entire body kept surging forward, but that palm was like a black hole, swallowing everything.
Only the alloy floor beneath Carl's feet, unable to withstand the rebounding force, creaked under the strain as spiderweb cracks spread from beneath him.
What was going on?
Carl's mind went blank.
The confidence on Morton's face had turned to disbelief.
Daiz tilted his head, looking at Carl's face, flushed red from the strain.
He smiled.
"The third strongest on Karen?"
"Looks like I could compete for first or second!"
Daiz gently pushed his palm forward.
Carl's body flew backward as if she had been struck by a frenzied beast.
Boom!
A tremendous crash rang out.
His back slammed squarely into the energy-absorbing wall at the other end of the training room.
The special wall, supposedly capable of absorbing the aftershock of a battleship's main cannon, caved in around the point of impact, leaving a huge human-shaped depression.
Carl was embedded in the wall like a painting, then slid down limply.
The training room fell deathly quiet.
Morton watched as his strongest warrior, the man hailed as an undefeated legend in the Northern Military District, was defeated in a single move.
At that moment, he also put aside his earlier contempt entirely.
Turles leaned against the doorframe at the training room entrance.
"General."
"Daiz is the weakest among us."
The weakest?
Morton instinctively turned his head.
He looked toward Turles and the mechanical life-form beside him, which had remained silent like a metal statue from beginning to end.
He took a deep breath, straightened his uniform, and strode into the training room himself.
He did not look at Carl, who was still kneeling on the floor, but walked straight up to Turles.
His face now wore an almost humble smile.
"Mr. Turles."
He had addressed him respectfully.
"I offended you earlier. Please don't take it to heart."
Turles glanced at him indifferently.
Morton then turned toward the command room and gestured for him to go ahead.
"Let's return to the command room and talk-in detail."