Bully Lord

Part-235

One of the men—a bulky guy with tattoos snaking up his arms—stepped forward. "There are four of us and one of you. Are you really that eager to get beaten up?"

James grinned, tapping the end of his sword against his shoulder. "Maybe. But I’d be more worried about this wooden sword if I were you. It has a special feature. Double the pain for every hit."

Tattoo Guy snorted. "Double pain? What kind of nonsense is that?"

"You’ll see soon enough," James replied, his eyes gleaming with excitement. He tightened his grip, readying himself for the inevitable clash.

The men rushed him all at once, hoping to overwhelm him with sheer numbers. But James’s reflexes were razor-sharp, and he sidestepped the first attack with ease. He swung his sword in a wide arc, catching Tattoo Guy square in the ribs. The man let out a howl of pain, doubling over as if he'd been struck by a sledgehammer.

The others froze, eyes wide in disbelief. "What the hell?" one of them shouted. "It's just a wooden sword!"

James didn’t give them time to recover. He spun around, delivering a swift blow to another assailant’s thigh. The man crumpled to the ground, clutching his leg in agony, his face contorted in pain. The wooden sword was no ordinary weapon—it amplified the pain of each strike, turning what should have been a light bruise into a searing ache.

"Two down," James taunted, his voice low and confident. "Who’s next?"

The remaining two men hesitated, glancing at each other. Their confidence was clearly shaken, but they couldn’t back down now. The leader took a step forward, his expression hardened. "Don’t underestimate us," he snarled, drawing a small dagger from his belt. He lunged at James, aiming for his midsection.

James parried the attack with ease, his sword meeting the blade with a resounding crack. He twisted his wrist, knocking the dagger from the leader’s hand, and delivered a punishing blow to his shoulder. The leader fell to one knee, gasping as the pain surged through his body.

"Triple the pain this time," James muttered, watching as his opponent writhed on the ground.

The last man standing backed away, fear etched across his face. "N-no way," he stammered. "This guy’s a monster."

"Monster?" James repeated with a chuckle. "I’m just getting started."

He dashed forward, closing the distance in an instant. Before the man could react, James delivered a precise strike to his abdomen. The man collapsed, moaning in pain, the fight drained out of him.

Breathing heavily, James stood amidst the fallen men, his wooden sword resting at his side. Sweat dripped from his brow, and his arms trembled with the effort, but he felt an immense sense of satisfaction. He had fought well, and the "double pain" effect of his weapon had proven to be devastatingly effective.

"Looks like that’s a win for me," he said, more to himself than to his beaten opponents.

One of the men groaned, trying to sit up. "W-who... who are you?" he managed to choke out.