Dos Santos started running slowly before gradually increasing his speed. The prison walls shook under his mighty weight with every step. He clenched his massive fists as he charged forward, his blood-red eyes fixed on Hawthorne. Then he roared with a voice so terrifying that it shook the prison walls. “We will find out who has the most powerful combat skills and techniques!” “We will know who's the boss!” Hawthorne remained standing in the same spot without moving. He calmly clenched his fists and waited. Dos Santos suddenly lunged at Hawthorne with tremendous force and pressure, shaking the prison ground. The unconscious inmates still lay scattered across the floor, some of them bleeding from the unbelievable impact of Hawthorne's advanced combat skills beyond normal human understanding. The moment Dos Santos reached him, Hawthorne immediately countered with his own advanced combat skills and deadly precision. He deliberately chose not to use the Dragon Inferno Techniq

Dos Santos slowly rose to his feet, his blurred vision gradually clearing as the ground trembled beneath his massive weight. He turned and saw Hawthorne standing before him with the countless inmates gathered behind him like warriors. The inmates stared at him with burning anger. Dos Santos wiped his eyes with the back of his right hand, making sure what he was seeing was real. Hawthorne stood calmly, coldly staring at the very monster he had defeated. Pablo stood on his right, Truman on his left, while the rest of the inmates surrounded them from behind. Dos Santos looked utterly humiliated. The terrifying face that once struck fear into everyone now looked pitiful and exhausted. He had been completely humbled. The sight of the inmates standing behind Hawthorne as if he were their king weakened him even further. He finally spoke, his voice filled with disbelief. “What's going on here?” Pablo boldly stepped forward and shouted at him. “He's our new King!” “Our o

Some hours later, it was already morning. Hawthorne was the first to wake up. He noticed that most of the inmates were still sleeping, while only a few had already woken up. He stood up and shouted calmly, yet with unquestionable authority. “You all should wake up. The time has already come for us to prepare!” The inmates quickly woke up. Their rumbling snores, which had been shaking the prison walls, instantly stopped. They stood up and responded in unison. “Understood, our king.” Hawthorne looked at himself and then at the inmates. He was filthy, still wearing the same bloodstained boxers from the previous day. Dried blood and scars covered his body, making him look like a madman. Worst of all, he had not eaten for a long time and was terribly hungry. However, as a military man, he was already used to enduring hunger. It was nothing new to him. Then, he asked calmly. “First of all, where can I clean myself up? I mean, where do you guys usually clean up? Let’s do

As Hawthorne and his legion charged toward Behemoth and the able-bodied soldiers, General Jean Morris roared at the top of his lungs. “SHOOT!” The countless soldiers, still charging forward, opened fire on Hawthorne and his intimidating legion. Only Behemoth did not use a gun. Firearms were useless to him. He fought with nothing but his monstrous fists as he continued leading the charge with terrifying force. The soldiers kept firing relentlessly down the trembling passageway. BANG! BANG!! Without any weapons, Hawthorne and his legion began dodging the rain of bullets from the soldiers' advanced rifles. Then... While still running, Hawthorne gave a sharp command. “SPEED UP!” His legion instantly increased their speed behind him as he led the charge. They kept dodging the bullets while the ground shook violently beneath their massive feet. The entire passage trembled under the overwhelming weight of the monsters. Some of the ceiling bulbs shook violently, while

The remaining legions watched in shock, disbelief, and surprise as Hawthorne was being brutally slammed by Behemoth. Among them was Dos Santos, who felt deeply excited and satisfied by what was happening. However, the painful truth was that he wasn't on either side. Behemoth wasn't done with him and would certainly end his life if he successfully defeats Hawthorne. He had no choice between the two of them. In fact, he even wished they would both die in the process if such a thing were somehow possible. Behemoth continued furiously slamming Hawthorne against the jagged, broken tiled floor without showing any sign of exhaustion. It seemed he had no intention of stopping until he made sure Hawthorne gave up the ghost. Hawthorne remained silent the entire time, enduring the brutal pain. But eventually, the unbearable agony became too much, and he unknowingly let out a painful scream. “ARGHHH!!” Behemoth continued slamming him mercilessly without slowing down. Hawthorne kept sc