The Slayer's charge was not a straight line like before.

  In the final second before the Sky Eye cheat disconnected, he had completely engraved the Thousand-Eyed Tyrant's complex spatial folding path into his mind.

  Now, he wasn't running.

  He was flying.

  He used the [Meat Hook] to snag a crumbling stone pillar on the hall's dome, using the momentum to swing like Tarzan, carving a massive arc through the air.

  Just as he reached the apex of his flight, a massive illusory demonic claw swiped from the side.

  The Slayer didn't fire, nor did he defend.

  He performed a double jump in mid-air that flagrantly violated the laws of physics (instant thruster burst). His body forcibly twisted 90 degrees in the air, barely grazing past the fingertips of the demonic claw.

  Immediately after, his feet kicked off a floating mirror surface.

  Crack!

  The mirror shattered. Using the recoil, the Slayer accelerated again, ricocheting wildly through the air in a Z-shaped trajectory like a refracted photon.

  Left, right, up, down.

  His movements were fast to the extreme, even leaving several green afterimages in the hall. The illusionary clones trying to intercept him couldn't keep up with his rhythm at all, firing futilely at his shadows.

  This wasn't just strength.

  This was "Absolute Mobility."

  This body, modified by divinity machines and fused with Abyss Demon Dragon leather, was now displaying coordination beyond biological limits.

  He was like a precision killing instrument; every movement was calculated billions of times, with no excess, no waste.

  Finally.

  The Slayer rushed into that dark corner.

  It looked empty there, just a patch of twisted void.

  But the Slayer raised his right fist without hesitation.

  Blood Punch charging.

  THUD!!!

  A punch slammed onto the void.

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  The originally calm space shattered like a mirror.

  "RAAARGH——!!!"

  A blood-curdling scream rang out.

  As space shattered, a figure so massive it was suffocating finally revealed its true face.

  The real Thousand-Eyed Tyrant.

  It was ten times larger than the fake one. Its flesh was no longer that loose, rotten meat, but presented a strange semi-translucent state, with purple psychic energy flowing within. And under that semi-translucent skin, thousands of real eyes, radiating an ancient evil aura, were staring in terror at the man who had rushed in front of them.

  The Slayer gave it no chance to breathe.

  Borrowing the recoil from that punch, he jumped directly onto the Tyrant's slimy body.

  The barbs on his combat boots latched firmly onto the Tyrant's skin.

  The Tyrant twisted its body madly, trying to shake this flea off. The eyes on its body simultaneously fired psychic shockwaves.

  The Slayer didn't even look at those eyes.

  He had only one target.

  The face.

  Or rather, the core area where the eyes were densest, which looked like a face.

  The Slayer rode on the Tyrant's body, his left hand gripping a thick tentacle as an anchor point, his right hand clenched into a fist, raised high.

  THUD!

  First punch.

  The Tyrant's body trembled violently. That single punch directly exploded over a dozen eyes, spraying purple ichor all over the Slayer.

  THUD!

  Second punch.

  The Tyrant sent out a psychic wave of begging: "Stop... I can give you power... give you..."

  THUD!

  Third punch.

  The Slayer's answer was always only his fist.

  With every punch, the Tyrant's massive psychic network collapsed a corner. With every punch, that feeling of solid physical impact gave the Slayer a long-lost sense of pleasure.

  This felt right.

  This was what he wanted.

  No illusions.

  No tricks.

  Just fist-to-flesh.

  "Face-to-Face vs Distance."

  For a mage, being face-hugged by a warrior is the beginning of a nightmare.

  For the Slayer, face-hugging... means dinner is served.

  ...

  Netherworld, Control Center.

  It was absolute chaos here.

  Because of the service suspension due to arrears, the customer service from the Celestial Court was spamming popup windows to collect the debt.

  [Warning: Your account is in arrears! Please top up immediately!]

  [Warning: Failure to top up will result in your Credit Score being cleared and reported to the Jade Emperor!]

  Singularity was sweating profusely, holding a pile of spirit money (bad exchange rate) and trash picked up from the Abyss (not yet appraised), trying to haggle with customer service.

  "Stop rushing me! Stop rushing me! I'm fighting a war here!"

  "Can this Demon Steel be used to pay off the debt? And this Tyrant's eyeball... although it hasn't been gouged out yet, it will be soon!"

  Singularity had no time to attend to the battle situation on the screen, only shouting into the microphone:

  "Great Hero! I have a bit of a... uh... financial crisis here! The signal might cut out! You handle it yourself! Just beat him to death!"

  After speaking, Singularity cut the comms to focus on dealing with the Celestial Court customer service, who was even more difficult than a demon.

  On the battlefield.

  The Slayer didn't know what was happening in the rear.

  He didn't care.

  He was currently riding on the Thousand-Eyed Tyrant's face, intoxicatedly performing a surgery named "Physical Plastic Surgery."

  The Tyrant was completely bewildered. Its powerful psychic power was useless under the Slayer's iron fist.

  Since psychic powers didn't work...

  Then use the physical body!

  The Tyrant's countless tentacles suddenly erupted, like a tightening net, attempting to strangle the Slayer on its body.

  Next Chapter: Tentacles Snap. The Tyrant thought its tentacles were tough? The Slayer says: Why is this stuff like noodles?