Everything was set. There was no way Jinwoo could talk his way out of this situation—only a fight would decide the outcome.
The atmosphere in the room was so intense that any hunter below S-rank could feel the overwhelming pressure of the magical energy both individuals were releasing without even trying. The air seemed to vibrate with invisible force, thick and heavy like an ocean pressing down from all sides.
Jinwoo's gaze hardened as he looked straight ahead. Madara's hand was gripping his shoulder, the pressure firm but not yet painful, as if testing his resolve.
"It seems I can't avoid this fight… huh? So troublesome," Jinwoo thought with a sigh of frustration. His eyes, however, reflected nothing but determination.
Without hesitation, Jinwoo summoned one of his most trusted soldiers.
"Igris."
The moment his voice echoed through the room, the air seemed to drop several degrees. A dark shadow extended from beneath Jinwoo's feet, thickening into something tangible. From that abyss, a figure emerged—tall and imposing, clad in crimson armor with a black cape flowing behind him. His presence alone radiated a suffocating pressure that sent chills down the spines of everyone present.
Igris stood still for only a moment, his glowing red eyes locked onto Madara. No words were needed—he understood his master's will as if their minds were one. Without waiting for an order, Igris launched his attack.
In the blink of an eye, his fist shot forward toward Madara's face. The speed was so incredible that even Goto Ryuji, who stood nearby, couldn't follow the movement. To the untrained eye, it appeared as if Igris had simply vanished.
But Madara saw it.
His eyes tracked the incoming strike with sharp clarity. Yet, instead of dodging, he chose to take the blow head-on.
The impact resounded through the room like thunder. The force blasted Madara backward at a speed too fast to register. One moment he stood gripping Jinwoo's shoulder, and the next, he crashed into the wall behind him with a deafening crack. The concrete shattered on impact, spiderweb cracks spreading across the surface as dust and debris filled the air.
Silence followed.
The dust settled slowly, fragments of shattered concrete tumbling to the ground as the echoes of Igris's strike faded.
The other hunters in the training facility stood frozen, their breaths caught in their throats. The sheer force of that single blow had turned the air heavy, oppressive.
Madara, embedded in the cracked wall, remained still for a heartbeat—then his head tilted upward, revealing crimson eyes glinting with amusement.
"Is that all?" His voice cut through the silence, low and mocking.
With a casual roll of his shoulders, he stepped out of the crater, brushing dust from his armor as if it were an inconvenience.
Not a scratch marred his form. The Mangekyou Sharingan spun lazily in his eyes, tracking every subtle shift in the room.
Sung Jin-Woo stood motionless, his dark gaze fixed on Madara. The summon of Igris had been a warning—a test of this man's strength.
Yet Madara had taken the hit without so much as a flinch. Jin-Woo's mind raced, calculating. 'He's fast. Faster than I expected. And that durability…' He exhaled softly, his expression unreadable. "Fine. Let's see what you've got."
Madara's smirk widened. "Good. I was starting to think you'd bore me."
In an instant, the air exploded with motion.
Igris surged forward again, his shadowy black-armored form a blur as he swung his massive sword toward Madara's chest.
The blade whistled through the air, its edge gleaming with lethal intent.
At the same time, Jin-Woo darted to the side, his movements fluid and precise, summoning more shadows. "Arise," he muttered under his breath.
The floor beneath him rippled as three additional shadow soldiers clawed their way into existence—hulking figures armed with jagged weapons, their glowing eyes locked on Madara.
Madara's Sharingan flared, his vision dissecting every movement. He twisted his body at the last second, Igris's sword slicing through the air where his torso had been.
The blade struck the ground instead, carving a deep gash into the concrete. Without missing a beat, Madara spun, his hand flashing out to catch the wrist of one of the newly summoned shadows.
With a flick of his arm, he hurled the soldier into another, sending both crashing into the far wall in a tangle of limbs and dark energy.
He did it without even trying too much.
Jin-Woo didn't hesitate. He closed the distance in a heartbeat, his dagger materializing in his hand as he aimed a precise strike at Madara's ribs.
The attack was lightning-fast, leaving an blurry afterimage in its wake. But Madara's reflexes were sharper.
His Sharingan tracked the motion effortlessly, and he sidestepped with inhuman grace, Jin-Woo's blade cutting through empty air. Madara countered instantly, his fist rocketing toward Jin-Woo's jaw.
Jin-Woo ducked under the blow, feeling the wind of it graze his hair. He pivoted on his heel, slashing upward with the dagger in a reverse grip.
Madara leaned back, the tip of the blade passing inches from his throat. The two exchanged a flurry of strikes—Jin-Woo's speed and precision clashing with Madara's uncanny perception and agility.
Each dodge left blurry afterimages flickering in the air, each attack a blur that the weaker hunters watching couldn't hope to follow.
Especially Goto Ryuji and japanese hunters, they were just too shocked to see this unexpected taunting fight that madara started with sung jinwoo.
"Impressive," Madara said mid-motion, his tone almost conversational as he blocked a dagger strike with his forearm.
"But predictable." He lashed out with a kick, forcing Jin-Woo to leap back. The moment Jin-Woo landed, Igris attacked again, swinging his sword in a wide arc.
Madara ducked under it, then drove his elbow into Igris's chestplate. The shadow knight staggered but didn't fall, retaliating with a backhand that Madara caught with one hand.
"You rely too much on these puppets," Madara taunted, tightening his grip on Igris's arm.
With a twist, he flung the shadow soldier into the remaining two, toppling them like dominoes. "Fight me yourself… hunter… sung… jin… wooooo."
Jin-Woo's eyes narrowed. He dismissed the lesser shadows with a thought, their forms dissolving into black mist, but kept Igris active.
"If that's what you want." His mana surged, a dark aura coiling around him as he charged. This time, he didn't hold back. His dagger slashed in rapid succession—left, right, up, down—each strike aimed at a vital point.
Madara weaved through the onslaught, his eyes already predicting his upcoming move. The sound of metal clashing against air filled the room, punctuated by the occasional spark as Jin-Woo's blade grazed Madara's black suit.
Madara jumped to his back side and did a hand sign in the mid air, and a fireball roared from Madara's lips—Fire Release: Great Fireball Technique.
The blazing sphere hurtled toward Jin-Woo, illuminating the room in a hellish glow. Jin-Woo rolled to the side, the heat singeing his coat as the fireball exploded against the wall behind him, sending chunks of debris flying.
Before he could recover, Madara was on him, a black rod in hand. The black rod flashed toward Jin-Woo's chest.
Jin-Woo parried with his dagger, the weapons clashing with a sharp ring. He pushed back, forcing Madara to disengage, then summoned Igris again.
The shadow knight appeared behind Madara, sword raised for a decapitating strike. Madara sensed it without looking—his Sharingan's perception was good.
He dropped low, the blade passing over his head, and kicked backward, sending Igris skidding across the floor.
"You're persistent," Madara said, straightening. "But it's time to take this to the next level." His Mangekyou Sharingan spun faster, and the air grew heavier. It was time to use something else.