25 Superpowered Individual VS Fallen Demon Hunter 3

Let us talk a little about the past, about how I became a superpowered individual.

Before I became a psychic, I often engaged in what might seem like eccentric behavior. Perhaps it is just me projecting, but I believe the things I did were not as eccentric as others claimed; everyone has likely done them to some extent, though few would share such trivialities with those around them.

That act was to place a ballpoint pen, an eraser, or some other light, reachable object before my eyes, then stare at it with intense concentration, imagining that my mental focus could intrude upon physical reality and influence it to move.

It did not need to move violently—just a little, enough to be visible to the naked eye. If I could be sufficiently single-minded, pouring every ounce of my mental energy into it, then earning such a tiny miracle hardly seemed like an excessive expectation.

Of course, I did not truly believe in this sophistry; it was more out of interest. Ever since I could remember, I had been fascinated by concepts like magic and superpowers. Those stories would occasionally weave elaborate, pseudo-mystical settings, telling readers how to cultivate their way to enlightenment or transcendence. Naturally, after reading them, I felt the urge to imitate. At that age, I could not, of course, go into deep mountains to find "spirit veins" or "celestial caves," but sitting in meditation with my palms up and eyes closed on my bed was easy enough to do.

Even when I started doing this in elementary school, I knew deep down that no matter how long I persisted, it would never help me tap into the "spiritual energy of heaven and earth." I simply wanted to get as close to the world of fantasy as possible. While imitating the meditation of characters in stories, I felt as though I, too, had become a member of that fantastical world.

My final attempt was in the third year of middle school. I had read in a miscellaneous book that ancient monks would prepare an unlit candle in a quiet room, then fix their gaze upon the wick, imagining their focus lighting it.

This practice was not based on the belief that one could truly ignite the wick with a gaze, but rather a method to clear away all stray thoughts, making it easier to enter a profound state of Zen meditation. After reading it, I found it quite logical and yearned to achieve it. Although the monks' meditation did not manifest any supernatural powers, it was still a mystical experience, and I was deeply curious about it.

For a time after that, I carried a candle with me every day, taking it out during spare moments to stare at the wick, imagining it bursting into flames.

Unbeknownst to me, as time passed, while I failed to enter the mystical state of Zen, I inexplicably triggered another, absurd phenomenon.

It was an unremarkable school day. After the teacher announced the end of class and walked out with their materials, the classroom descended into the usual post-class clamor. No classmates came to talk to me, so I took out my candle as usual and stared at the wick to pass the boring time.

One minute, two minutes, three minutes... about five or six minutes passed, and I still hadn't entered the so-called state of Zen. This was to be expected. I continued to empty my mind, staring at the wick out of habit.

But this time, it was different from any other.

Under my gaze,

the candle wick ignited out of thin air.

-

The demon burst into flames out of thin air.

It was as if its entire body had turned into a giant matchstick, heating up through friction with the air as it charged toward me at high speed, then suddenly exploding into a roar of fire.

Rolling heat waves swept across the area with the force of a landslide, causing the shrubs and bushes by the roadside to sway violently. I was caught in the heat wave myself, yet I suffered no burns; I simply retreated two steps with the momentum of the blast and turned my body, avoiding the demon's path. The demon, like a car out of control, crashed miserably into a charging station not far away.

It let out a sharp, frenzied shriek, unable to even stand from the pain, and could only roll on the ground in a graceless display, attempting to extinguish the flames on its body.

At the same time, the shadows around me began to stir. A dozen shadow blades launched a swift, lethal strike at me from all sides.

But before they could touch me, flames erupted from my entire body. When these shadow blades met my fire, they disintegrated rapidly, like cotton touched by a flame, unable to cross even a step into my burning defensive circle.

The demon did more than that at this critical moment. Some of the shadows did not attack me but surged rapidly toward the demon itself.

It is said that in some firefighting efforts, sand is used instead of water. The principle is the same as water: once it covers the burning object, it cuts off the oxygen, making combustion impossible. Presumably, these shadows intended to do the same, covering the agonizing demon like a silken cocoon.

However, before they could suppress the flames, the shadows were ignited by the fire themselves. Far from putting out the blaze, they became new fuel, making the demon’s agony even more unbearable.

"Zhuang Cheng—" it wailed, as if cast into a burning hell, its voice filled with raw, negative emotion, "—Zhuang Cheng, ahhh!!!"

As it roared, its body suddenly sprang from the ground, and in the blink of an eye, it was right in front of me.

But I did not blink; my gaze remained fixed upon it.

Its speed was truly incredible, and its strength was immense. With the movements of my normal form, I would have been torn apart before I could even twitch a finger. However, my attacks did not require me to move a finger. If it thought I had to go through the process of "forming a fireball beside me and then manually throwing it," like some fire-wielder in a fighting game, then it was gravely underestimating me.

My gaze, my voice, my breath—these everyday things were all conduits for my power.

My fire was my spirit; therefore, wherever my spirit could reach, my fire could destroy. Some use the phrase "if looks could kill..." to describe the intensity of someone's murderous intent, but my gaze could truly kill.

Just like now.

The demon was ignited once more. This time, I let the flames erupt only on the front of its body. The immense heat wave sent it flying backward, forcing it to continue struggling for its life within the fire.

"This is impossible..." It seemed to realize only then what was happening to it. "Just... just one look at me... ahhh!!"

"It’s just manipulating fire; it’s not an impressive ability, is it?" Compared to my own power, which I had long grown accustomed to, I was more interested in its true capabilities. "On the contrary, don't you have any other, more novel... more bizarre abilities?"

The demon seemed to have no energy left to reply, focusing only on manipulating shadow energy again, trying to extinguish the flames on its body, but to no avail.

The fire continued to break down its body without pause, but I could observe that its flesh and tissue were regenerating at an unnatural speed. For every piece of flesh that carbonized and crumbled, new flesh regenerated to take its place. Overall, the speed of regeneration could not keep up with the rate of destruction, but at this rate, it would still take some time to burn it to death.

It was not that I couldn't burn this demon to charcoal in one go; there was a factor of me intentionally holding back in this situation. In fact, I wasn't sure what the maximum temperature of my fire was, and its destructive power did not depend on physical temperature, but on the intention I held when using it. If I injected a murderous intent, even rock could be vaporized on the spot; and if I lacked that intent, I could envelop a human body without causing it the slightest harm.

Originally, I really intended to kill it. After all, the opponent was trying to kill me; it couldn't blame anyone if I killed it. But at the critical moment of delivering the killing blow, I hesitated.

It wasn't that I cherished the lives of my enemies—if it were a human, that might be a different story, but the opponent didn't even have a human form, so I felt no psychological burden in burning it. But wouldn't it be a pity to burn it to death right here?

Perhaps I shouldn't kill it, but capture it alive instead. Then I could find a place to imprison it and ask it more about these anomalies. Of course, it might still be hiding other dangerous, life-threatening trump cards. But I believed this risk was worth taking.

Speaking of "risk," there was something very important I hadn't had the chance to do yet, so I might as well do it now.

"Your struggling is useless," I explained my ability proactively. "As long as it is within the range of my vision, my fire will not vanish. Even if you find a way to extinguish it, I can reignite it countless times."

Many villains in battle manga explain their abilities to the protagonist when they are in an advantageous position. Although I agree that this is by no means a wise move, it was one of my obsessions.

If I were to write a bucket list, one of the items would definitely be: "Display my abilities in front of an opponent while explaining the mechanics." I had deeply regretted not finding such an opportunity when I was deep under the cave.

Even if this practice eventually led me into a difficult situation, I could accept it calmly. The experience under the cave had made me realize my true self; I was now fully convinced that I possessed such mental power.

It was clear that the demon had no intention of giving up obediently. Just as I was about to explain more, it suddenly let out a humiliated roar and then sprang from the ground again, launching a dash.

Only this time, it was not to approach me, but to put as much distance between us as possible as quickly as it could.

Its retreating figure was as fast as a jagged bolt of lightning, and in the blink of an eye, it vanished from my sight.

Perhaps this was the most correct strategy it could think of at the moment. It had realized that I could ignite objects with my gaze, and since neither its shadows nor its physical attacks could reach me, disappearing from my field of vision was the best course of action; otherwise, it would only continue to burn until it died in agony.

However, I never said that escaping my naked eye's view would make one safe.

Running away while someone is halfway through an explanation is not a good habit.

I closed my eyes, and the scene of where the demon was currently located appeared in my mind.

I saw the demon, having escaped the residential area, quickly reaching the riverside a kilometer away. It was still being scorched by my flames, and upon seeing the river, it dove in without hesitation. When the river water touched the fire, a massive amount of white steam exploded into the air.

Even my fire could not vaporize an entire river—at least, I had never tested if I could. The demon was trying to use a large volume of water to extinguish the flames, but this was futile. My fire did not need oxygen to appear out of thin air, and naturally, it would not vanish out of thin air due to a lack of oxygen.

Moreover, running away from me was a wrong choice; no matter how far it ran, it could not escape my gaze. It was true that it didn't have my "fireflies" around it now, but the reason those "fireflies" could share their vision with me was because they were my flames—my dispersed consciousness. And now, the flames burning on the demon’s body had also become my eyes.

Where the fire reached, my gaze reached.

Once ignited by me, one could not escape my fire even if they fled to the ends of the earth. Unless I gave my permission, it was a fire that would never be extinguished.