Cyberpunk: 2075.

Chapter 736, Section 150: War, Collapse
Being hit in the face is definitely not a pleasant feeling, especially a headbutt that's been prepared from the start.

The impact made Karl feel a burning pain all over his face, a sharp stinging pain as if his nose was about to break, and a surge of soreness in his nasal cavity. The uncontrollable physiological reaction brought tears to his eyes and blurred his vision.

You were careless.

Carl wanted to blame himself for that.

If the other person's head has been modified, or if a reinforced prosthetic has been implanted in their frontal bone, this impact would be enough to crack their skull and splatter their brains.

But he soon realized that this was not due to negligence. In the lightning-fast exchange, his body had already made the most accurate judgment—at that moment, he truly did not perceive a fatal threat from the impact.

It was this intuition that led him to take the headbutt headbutt headbutt.

Although the pain in the face is intense, it is not fatal; however, if one releases the hand holding the kunai or pulls out the fingers piercing the opponent's shoulder, the hard-won advantage of dominance will be lost.

His muscle memory made the choice faster than rational thought: he would rather endure physical pain than lose control of the enemy.

There are deeper reasons behind this choice.

The gray-clad man in front of them reacted with astonishing speed and launched an attack that was more ferocious than they could have imagined. Despite being in a desperate situation with Karl's fingers piercing his shoulder and his dominant weapon being restrained, the man was able to launch this headbutt counterattack without hesitation the moment when both sides were wide open.

The movements were so clean and swift as if they had been meticulously calculated, without any hesitation or lingering, as if the opponent had anticipated being suppressed and had prepared this counterattack by exchanging injury for advantage.

Although my face is in excruciating pain, I have the upper hand now!

Karl suddenly tightened his grip on the gray-clad man's chest, his fingertips digging deep into the flesh like steel hooks. He yanked hard, trying to pull the man towards himself, while simultaneously tilting his head back, poised to strike—he wanted to retaliate and make this guy taste the excruciating pain of a skull collision.

However, the moment he suddenly pulled, his palm was suddenly empty—the gray-clad man had twisted his shoulder joint, his arm twisted strangely, and his elbow slammed into Karl's fingers that were embedded in his shoulder like a hammer.

This strike was precise and ruthless, forcefully deflecting Karl's knuckles just as he was about to tighten his grip!
What's even more alarming is that the other party seemed to have anticipated his movements, adjusting their posture and breaking free of the restraints just before Karl's muscles tensed.

As Carl's finger was forced out, blood splattered onto the metal wall of the ventilation duct with a "hiss," drawing a glaring scarlet line in the dim light.

The man in gray didn't stop at all. Despite his dislocated arm, he used it as a shield to block it. At the same time, he twisted his waist and abdomen, and his entire arm lashed out like a whip, delivering a vicious elbow strike straight for Karl's face! This strike was unreserved, relying purely on the explosive power of his waist and back, and its speed was so fast that it almost tore the air apart!

Damn it, he's aiming for the face again. Is this guy trying to mess with his own face?
Karl's face is currently disguised by a face-changing mask behind the disguise chip. Wearing the mask cancels the disguise chip's effect, and if the mask is damaged, Karl's face will be exposed. There's no other way. Although he doesn't want to be exposed, their fierce fight in the ventilation duct has likely already attracted attention. The trembling of the metal walls, the muffled thuds of limbs colliding—delaying it will only bring more trouble.

Karl decisively released his grip on the kunai.

At that very moment, the gray-clad man's movements suddenly changed!

As if his opponent had anticipated his choice, the wrist that had been suppressed suddenly flipped, the handle of the kunai pressed against his palm, and with only the strength of his fingertips, he flicked it out—"Whoosh!" A flash of cold light appeared, and the kunai shot out under the cover of the elbow strike!

This completely defies the common sense of human power generation! A normal person cannot accurately throw a weapon while simultaneously striking with an elbow to the side, but the man in gray did just that—his movements were so fluid as to be almost uncanny, as if he had already calculated the moment when Karl would release his grip, and there was no instant when he could let go, even with a hint of ruthless anticipation!

Anyone else would probably have died from this deadly move, which is full of the cunning style of ninjas—who would have thought that someone could simultaneously launch a kunai at the moment of an elbow strike? That way of generating force, which defies human ergonomics, is as if the joints can be disassembled and reassembled at will!
But the man in gray anticipated Karl's letting go, so how could Karl not have anticipated his next move?
This might seem unbelievable. The gray-clad man's contorted movements and counterintuitive force trajectory would seem incomprehensible to anyone, but Karl had come up with it.

Carl had anticipated that his opponent would expect him to let go, and he had anticipated that his opponent would be able to throw his kunai at the same time as the elbow strike.

There was no particular reason for this; Karl simply believed that an opponent who had put so much pressure on him was capable of doing it. It was precisely because of the opponent's strength, the fact that the opponent had made him feel a subtle sense of suffocation, that Karl was certain he could absolutely accomplish something beyond imagination. Karl's confidence in this was probably even stronger than that of the man in gray himself.

The previous struggle had already brought the ventilation duct to the brink of collapse. The metal pipe walls twisted and deformed under the struggle between the two, and the fixing bolts flew off one after another, bouncing inside the duct with a teeth-grinding cracking sound—like the joints of a dying person being broken inch by inch.

At this moment, Karl chose to deliver the final blow to this structure that was on the verge of collapse!
To avoid the deadly kunai, he stomped down hard with his right foot. With a piercing scream of metal tearing apart, the entire ventilation duct collapsed like a giant python with its spine ripped off. The shattered galvanized steel plates turned into countless sharp blades, swirling wildly in the falling airflow.

The moment the feeling of weightlessness struck, the battle did not stop—the gray-clad man's elbow strike continued along its original trajectory, as if gravity had to yield to this man. Karl twisted his waist in mid-air and met the attack with a knee strike!

"boom--!"

The dull thud of flesh colliding exploded in mid-air, the recoil violently throwing the two apart. Before they even hit the ground, they were already two meters apart. The time of their descent suddenly became viscous, and in that brief moment of suspended motion, Karl could clearly see the scene below:

In the brightly lit warehouse, six fully armed members of the Sliding Gang were rushing out from between the shelves.

Their faces were frozen in disbelief and terror—the metal dome above their heads suddenly exploded, and two entangled figures, accompanied by sparks and blood rain, fell from the sky, still fiercely clashing in mid-air in a manner defying physics.

In the minds of these lackeys, this scene was no different from the battle between gods in mythology. Some even staggered and fell to their knees, their submachine guns slipping from their hands like offerings to the gods.

(End of this chapter)