Gon's Harem System
Chapter 100: The winner is…

Chapter 100: The winner is...

Loxi saw her coming, but knowing didn’t mean he could stop her.

She moved with a smooth, practiced ease, her steps light as if she barely touched the ground.

She stepped in, swift and sure, slipping past his guard as if his defenses didn’t even exist.

It was maddening how easily she closed the distance, her movement so fluid it felt like she had melted through the air itself.

Loxi swung without hesitation, his blade slicing through the space where she should have been.

But at the very last second, she twisted, her body bending in a way that seemed almost unnatural, her momentum carrying her just out of reach.

The tip of his sword missed her by a hair’s breadth.

A rush of wind followed the force of his strike, ruffling the strands of hair that had escaped the tie at the back of her head.

She was close now, too close, and Loxi barely had a second to recover before she would strike.

Then her fingers found his ribs.

A single press.

It was light, barely more than a touch, but it sent a sharp, jolting sensation through his body.

His breath hitched, his muscles locking up for a split second too long. That was all she needed.

Loxi’s mind scrambled to react, to twist away, to raise his blade again, but his body was already betraying him.

His stance wavered, his balance shifting just enough for her to take control.

He had spent years training, sharpening his instincts, but right now, it felt like none of that mattered.

Loxi’s breath hitched. A second touch, near his collarbone.

His chest tightened, a strange weight settling over him.

His grip on his weapon faltered for just a moment, fingers twitching as if unsure whether to hold on or let go.

She was still so close, her presence pressing in on him like a shadow that refused to be shaken.

He tried to move, to swing, to step back, anything, but his body felt slow, sluggish, like he was sinking into something he couldn’t name.

The third strike came fast, straight to his inner thigh.

His leg buckled.

A sharp tremor shot through him, his knee giving way before he could stop it.

He staggered, barely catching himself, but the damage was done.

His stance was broken. His balance shattered.

She had dismantled him in three precise movements, each one soft, controlled, yet devastatingly effective.

Loxi gasped, stumbling, his body suddenly refusing to obey him.

His lungs seized, as if the very air had been knocked from them, leaving him grasping for breath that wouldn’t come fast enough.

His grip on his sword weakened, fingers trembling, his hold slipping despite the instinct screaming at him to fight.

His vision blurred for half a second, just long enough to send a wave of disorientation through him.

The ground felt unsteady beneath his feet, the world tilting in a way that made it hard to tell if he was falling or still standing.

His body, trained for battle, conditioned for endurance, wasn’t responding the way it should.

Panic flickered at the edges of his mind. What had she done to him?

The realization hit him like a hammer. She had shut down his body’s responses. Piece by piece.

It wasn’t magic. It wasn’t brute strength. It was pure precision, strikes so well-placed that his own body had turned against him.

His breath came shallow, his limbs sluggish, as if she had reached inside him and flicked off the switches that kept him moving.

Loxi gritted his teeth. His jaw clenched so hard it ached. "You little—"

Sera’s knee drove into his stomach.

The impact was brutal, folding him in half. Air exploded from his lungs in a ragged gasp, his insides twisting in protest.

The impact stole the breath from his lungs, sent fireworks of pain exploding through his body.

It was sudden, overwhelming, like a strike that didn’t just land on flesh but reached inside, rattling his core.

His sword clattered to the ground, the flames sputtering out as if they, too, had been struck down.

The sound barely registered over the ringing in his ears, over the roaring of his own pulse.

His fingers twitched, instinct screaming at him to pick it up, to move, to fight, but his body had already made the decision for him.

His knees hit the sand next.

The grains shifted beneath him, coarse and unyielding, but he barely felt it.

His body folded forward despite his will to stand, muscles unresponsive, lungs still fighting to pull in enough air.

The crowd went silent for half a second.

A brief, breathless pause, like the world itself had frozen, trying to process what had just happened.

The weight of it hung in the air, thick and heavy.

Then, chaos.

Shouts erupted, voices clashing in a tangled roar of shock, excitement, and disbelief. Some cheered, their cries wild with admiration.

Others cursed, outraged, unable to believe what they had just witnessed. Feet pounded against the sand, bodies shifting as people surged forward for a better look.

Sera simply exhaled, stepping back as Loxi gasped for air, clutching his stomach.

There was no gloating, no triumphant smirk, just quiet certainty.

She had moved with precision, struck with purpose, and now, as the fight lay settled in the dust, she didn’t need to revel in victory.

The truth was plain for all to see.

She had won.

And she had done it without a single wasted motion.

Loxi coughed, his body protesting even that small motion, but he forced himself to look up at her.

Despite the pain. Despite the loss. His grin still flickered back onto his face.

She had beaten him, broken past his defenses like no one else had before. And damn it, he respected that.

"You know," he rasped, voice rough from the hit, "if you’d let me land just one more attack, it would’ve been way more dramatic."

Sera stared at him, unimpressed. Her expression didn’t shift, didn’t soften.

She simply watched him, like she was deciding whether he was even worth a response.

Then, finally, she spoke.

"Then get better."

The words were blunt, matter-of-fact. No gloating, no sympathy.

Just a simple truth, spoken as if there was nothing else to say.

Loxi laughed, the sound rough but full of life. Even in defeat, he still played for the crowd.

But the fight was over.

"OUR NEXT FIGHTERS!" the announcer called, voice booming over the restless energy of the arena. "GON AND ERLO!"

The name sent a fresh wave of excitement through the crowd, murmurs rising like a storm.

Gon barely heard them.

He felt the epinephrine flood his veins, his pulse thudding in his ears as he stepped into the ring.