I Siphon the Dead to Become the Strongest

So... I just woke up, grabbed my coffee, and then looked at the clock and realized—dang it, it’s 9 already?! And this was scheduled to post! So, what did I do? I panicked and wrote Hifumi hahah. Hope you enjoy his absolute lack of empathy today!

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As the rift’s energy subsided, Hifumi stepped through and was immediately met with a sight that made his lip curl in distaste. The gate’s interior dimension was a sprawling, idyllic meadow under a wide, cloudless azure sky. The sun shone down with a warm, golden light, dappling the lush green grass and wildflowers that stretched toward a distant, gentle forest. To anyone else, it would have been breathtakingly beautiful.

For Hifumi, it was an affront.

He let out a soft, derisive scoff and instantly raised a hand to shield his eyes.

”Ugh. Blinding,” he muttered, his voice thick with noble disgust. ”Pathetic. Perhaps the reason the hunters in this country are so weak is because the very gates that spawn here are this... soft. This gentle. Where is the challenge? Where is the proper, life-or-death atmosphere? Tsk. As expected from this place. Not worth the effort.”

He took a single, unhurried step forward into the meadow, already dismissing the entire environment as a waste of his valuable time.

That was when the killing intent bloomed behind him—a hot, clumsy wave of aggression.

Hifumi didn’t turn. He didn’t even flinch. He merely tilted his upper body a few degrees to the left.

A massive, spiked warhammer, thrown with enough force to shatter concrete, whistled past the exact space his shoulder had occupied a moment before, ploughing a furrow in the soft earth ahead of him.

A second later, a pair of hand-axes came spinning toward his chest in a crisscross pattern.

Hifumi’s foot flicked out with a bored, almost lazy grace. His sneaker connected with the flat of the first axe, redirecting it, and a glancing tap deflected the second. The twin weapons spun harmlessly away to thud into the ground.

”Measly,” Hifumi sighed, finally turning to regard his assailants. ”Truly. Like children throwing rocks.”

Two men stood at the edge of the clearing, having emerged from behind a large boulder. The first was lean and tall, his face a mask of simmering rage. The second was burly, the retrieved warhammer now resting casually on his shoulder.

”I’ve had enough of your bickering, you slant-eyed prick,” the lean man spat, his voice trembling with anger. ”You come into our land, into our gate, and spit on everything we hold dear?”

The burly man hefted his hammer. ”You said it, brother. Who does this pretty-boy think he is? We rankers put our lives on the line every day in these gates to protect this country, and you have the gall to insult it?”

Hifumi listened, his expression one of profound boredom. He examined his perfectly manicured fingernails.

”A compelling speech,” he said, his voice dripping with condescension. ”But it rings rather hollow. You ’put your lives on the line’... against what, exactly? The daisies? The pleasantly chirping birds? If these are the monsters that threaten your beloved nation, then its weakness is not a mystery—it is an inevitability.”

”That’s enough!”

The lean man’s patience snapped. With a guttural roar, he sprinted forward. As he ran, he wrenched his twin axes from the soft earth where they’d fallen, the blades tearing free with a sound like roots ripping. He didn’t break stride; momentum carried him into a powerful leap, soaring into the air directly above Hifumi.

As he ascended, the steel of both axes ignited, wreathed in a fierce, orange blaze. He brought them down in a furious, symmetrical cross-chop, the heat distorting the air, his voice a snarl. ”So in the end, you just want a fight!”

The blazing axes slammed down toward Hifumi’s head... and stopped.

They didn’t connect. They didn’t even come close. They simply hung in the air, trembling, a mere inch from his flawlessly styled hair. The lean man strained, veins bulging in his neck and arms, pushing with all his might. The fiery edges of the axes hissed and spat, but they could not advance a single millimeter. An invisible, impervious barrier separated the weapons from their target.

Hifumi didn’t look up. He merely sighed, a sound of profound disappointment. ”Is that all?” he asked, his tone flat.

Only then did he glance up, his bored eyes meeting the lean man’s straining, furious gaze mid-air. Hifumi’s hands were still tucked casually into the pockets of his light blue jacket.

Then, he vanished.

There was no blur, no afterimage. One moment he was standing, looking up. The next, he was simply gone.

The lean man’s eyes widened in confusion, his axes still pushing against empty, solid air. The momentum of his downward strike now had nothing to resist it, and he began to fall awkwardly.

Hifumi reappeared directly beneath the descending man.

His form was a study in effortless, brutal elegance. He spun his body three times, a dancer’s pirouette of pure power, gathering centrifugal force. On the final rotation, his right leg snapped out, his pristine white sneaker connecting with a sickening, precise CRACK against the lean man’s exposed ribs.

The sound was like a branch breaking underfoot.

The man didn’t just fall. He was blasted laterally, a human projectile hurled across the meadow with terrifying speed. He smashed into a distant, massive rock wall with a dull, wet THUD, cratering the stone before slumping to the ground in a boneless heap. The fiery axes clattered to the grass, the flames guttering out.

Hifumi landed from his spin with the softest tap of his soles on the grass. He straightened his jacket, glanced at the distant, motionless form embedded in the rock, and tilted his head in genuine, mild curiosity.

”My,” he murmured, his voice laced with disgusted surprise. ”What a remarkable distance he traveled. And I merely tapped him. The structural integrity of rankers in this country is truly substandard.”

The burly man with the hammer didn’t waste a second. He sprinted toward the rock wall, his heavy boots thumping against the turf, and performed a desperate, sliding dive. He skidded across the dirt on both knees, sending a spray of grass and soil into the air, until he reached his fallen brother.

”Hold on! Just hold on!” he gasped, frantically uncorking a glowing blue potion and tilting it into the lean man’s mouth.

Hifumi watched the scene with a look of utter exhaustion, as if the mere act of witnessing such incompetence was draining his battery. He reached up, scratching the back of his neck with a finger, his face twisted in a grimace of annoyance.

”This is precisely why I find this country so tedious,” Hifumi lamented to the wind. ”They possess an infinite capacity to initiate conflict, yet they lack the basic strength to sustain it. It’s like watching a puppy try to tackle a mountain.”

A few yards away, the lean man began to struggle upward. He was clutching his ribs, his breath coming in ragged, wheezing gasps. He looked at Hifumi with a mixture of agony and disbelief.

”That... ghhk... that hit was too heavy,” the man groaned, a wet grunt escaping his throat as he winced. ”I can still feel... ugh... the pain in my ribs.”

Hifumi blinked, looking genuinely concerned—not for the man’s health, but for his own boredom. ”Oh? My apologies. I didn’t actually intend to kill you. I was merely attempting a light greeting.”

He shifted his weight, glancing at the sky as if checking a watch that wasn’t there. ”However, if you insist on this little charade, I suppose I should hold back even more. I could use the stretching, and you seem to make excellent equipment for a warm-up.”

The lean man’s eyes flared. He ignored the screaming protest of his lungs and lunged for his weapons. He slammed the two axes together with a violent clang, and the steel erupted into flames once more, the fire reflecting in his pupils.

”We will! We’ll show you!” the lean man roared, though he still sounded a bit like he was breathing through a straw. ”You might have fast feet, you squinty-eyed brat, but you can’t dodge everything!”

The burly brother stood up beside him, hoisting the warhammer over his shoulder with a determined scowl. ”That’s right! No one underestimates us, and absolutely no one underestimates our country!”

Hifumi paused. Then, a small, sharp sound escaped him.

”Pfft.”

He let out a cold, melodic chuckle, the sound of someone who found the very idea of their opposition being a threat to be a delightful joke.

”Suit yourself,” Hifumi said, his voice returning to that smooth, noble drawl of utter disdain. ”Proceed with your little rebellion. But be warned: if you’re actually serious this time, you might find that your life is the price of admission.”