NOVEL WEB Chapter 151: Mass Shift
[Begin.]
The sound cracked like a whip.
And they moved.
Seul's feet glided across the stone like she belonged there—no hesitation, no tension in her shoulders. Only the pull of intention, and the weight of something precise.
Her opponent, Kaito Asano, did not sprint.
He strode.
A confident walk. Not arrogant. Not lazy. Controlled. Like he was stepping into something already decided.
Jin didn't blink.
Seul extended her hand forward, and the air around her shimmered. It was faint—barely visible distortions dancing like heat mirages—but Jin recognized the signature.
Gravity shift. Immediate.
But not pressure. Not yet.
Kaito's pace didn't change. He didn't raise his hands. He didn't tense his core or adjust his stance.
And yet… something moved.
Jin's breath hitched. The arena wasn't flat. Floating plates of obsidian-like stone were arranged in a spiral pattern—each one suspended in mid-air, softly turning on unseen axes. The moment Seul made her move, two of those plates, near the far left edge, rotated just slightly offbeat. Out of sync with the others.
Jin's brow furrowed.
Kaito stepped again.
Seul reacted instantly—palm twisting, and the gravity shimmer thickened, suddenly pressing downward like an unseen fist. One of the floating plates cracked from the force—its underside caving in from the pull.
Kaito's foot lifted—just as the plate he'd been about to step on shattered.
Not broken by her power.
Shifted.
Jin's mind moved quickly.
That wasn't Seul's fault.
That was the field responding to two gravitational forces. His eyes flicked between them, back and forth.
Kaito's steps are shifting the platform balance, he thought. But he's not releasing any pressure. He's not broadcasting force like she is. So how—
Kaito moved again.
This time, toward Seul.
Fast.
Not instant—no burst dash. Just a smooth surge forward, and then his knee came up—
Aimed straight at her stomach.
Seul didn't block.
She dropped.
A gravity well cracked the air beneath her, and she slammed into the floor with sudden velocity—dodging the strike and sliding under Kaito's frame.
Jin exhaled. Clean move. Controlled evasion through point compression. Didn't waste energy rebounding upward. Smart.
Seul skidded behind Kaito and launched back to her feet, already twisting her fingers in a tight rotation.
Gravity pulse.
It snapped outward—like a gravitational whip—and the edge of her field bent the platform Kaito stood on, curving its spine.
Kaito twisted in place. No panic. Just a pivot of his heel. His hands stayed loose. His expression remained unreadable.
The pulse hit.
But instead of launching him, it hit the stone beneath him—twisting it, folding it… but not breaking it.
Jin narrowed his eyes. Why didn't it lift him? She adjusted for a horizontal vector. The pull was clean, direct—
Kaito launched forward with a single step, body twisting into a roundhouse.
It came fast.
Faster than Jin expected.
Seul raised her hand—and a gravity wall collapsed in front of her, catching the strike mid-air.
Stone cracked. The force sent debris flying.
Seul skidded back three paces.
Kaito stood with one leg still extended.
Their gazes met.
Seul didn't blink. Neither did he.
Jin whispered, "What are you doing, Seul…"
She shifted her stance. Not wider. Not defensive.
Focused.
One palm forward, the other slightly angled—fingers curling in slow rotations.
And the gravity began to spiral.
Jin saw it—faint tendrils of shimmering density curling around her, warping the air. The floating stones began to turn at uneven speeds—some faster, some rotating against their natural momentum.
A low hum thrummed across the arena.
Seul had anchored the spiral in herself.
Jin inhaled slowly. "You're not just pushing gravity. You're warping the direction of its flow."
She spun.
Her heel clicked against the stone.
And the moment her foot hit the floor, the gravity spiral launched outward—like a cyclone made of pressure and silence.
Kaito didn't step back.
He dropped low and planted his palm on the ground.
And something shifted.
The cyclone of gravity bent—just slightly. Not deflected. Not shattered.
Redirected.
The stones around him responded. They pushed against Seul's spiral, forming an invisible lattice of counter-spin.
The blast didn't reach him directly.
Jin's eyes widened.
She's using high-mass directional force. He's not nullifying it—he's just redirecting the stress into something else. But how? He's not using typical ground anchoring… he's feeding it into the environment.
Kaito dashed forward through the gap.
He didn't aim high.
He went for Seul's ankle.
She jumped—barely. The attack skimmed past her leg, clipping the fabric of her outfit. But she had no air boost prepared.
Mid-air, no anchors. Vulnerable.
Kaito twisted again and leapt, this time with a full-body rotation.
Jin leaned forward, heart racing. "Don't let him hit you mid-air—!"
Seul snapped her wrist—and the gravity above her collapsed.
A micro-blackout of pressure hit from above, slamming her downward faster than Kaito's kick could land.
She hit the ground hard—but upright.
Jin winced. "That's gotta hurt…"
But she didn't fall.
Instead, she raised her hands—and pulled.
The arena buckled.
Kaito's platform shattered under him—not from a blast, but from a suction that dragged upward.
He flipped mid-air and landed on a lower ledge.
And for the first time—
He grinned.
Seul said nothing.
Jin watched them both, breathing slow.
There was a gap between their powers. Not in scale—but in approach.
Seul was fighting with methodical pressure. Layered attacks. Rotational physics. She used her gravity like a sculptor's tool.
Kaito?
He moved like he'd fought gravity before.
Jin muttered under his breath. "It's not just his footing. He's fighting against a skill most people wouldn't dare contest."
The air warped again.
Kaito rushed Seul.
Seul pressed her palm flat to the ground—and the platform between them rose like a wall.
Kaito didn't stop.
He hit the wall.
But not like a ram.
Like a wedge.
Jin blinked.
Kaito punched the edge of the stone—and it didn't crumble from the strike. It folded around his fist.
Jin froze. He's… condensing stone around his own force vectors. He's amplifying impact by reinforcing collision points instead of outputting pressure. That's…
The platform behind Seul cracked from the feedback.
Seul twisted sideways.
And the two locked eyes again.
Jin could barely breathe.
And they hadn't even started using their real power yet.
The platform ruptured.
Not because Seul struck it—but because she compressed it to the width of her palm and hurled it forward like a meteor.
It wasn't stone anymore. It was force given mass.
Kaito dropped low, bracing an arm against the ground—his entire body coiled in one smooth twist.
The projectile hit him dead on.
BOOM—
A shockwave blasted across the arena. Chunks of debris scattered in concentric waves, turning the field into a cratered mess.
The spectators leaned forward—everyone watching. Jin didn't move. His gaze stayed on the center of the dust cloud, fists clenched tight.
"Did she get him?"
Then—
From the smoke, a figure emerged.
Scuffed.
Blood trailing down his jaw.
But walking.
Kaito wiped his lip, glanced at the crimson on his palm—and smiled wider.
"…Finally," he said.
He raised his arm—and from the folds of his sleeve, a thin band of black metal uncoiled. It clicked around his wrist and locked in place with a low hum.
Seul's expression didn't change.
Jin narrowed his eyes. "He's activating an item."
The metal began to pulse.
Not with light. With weight.
It wasn't visible to the eye—but the arena felt it. The floor trembled beneath Seul's boots. Not from pressure—but from something deeper. Like gravity itself had been… persuaded to reconsider its allegiance.
Kaito took a step forward.
The ground didn't crack.
It tilted.
Seul's eyes narrowed. The air around her tightened instantly—like a dome collapsing into a pinpoint.
Kaito raised both hands.
"Ready to see what I've really got?"
He dropped into a crouch, and the air behind him imploded—
BANG.
He vanished in an instant, reappearing mid-air above her.
"Grav pulse—repelled vector!"
He launched downward like a falling star, foot extended in a spike drop.
Seul didn't flinch.
She tilted her head slightly.
And then—
The entire arena rotated.
Not physically. But directionally. Gravity flipped on a dime, turning up into down and sideways into collapse.
Kaito dropped—but not toward Seul.
He shot past her, carried by his own momentum, unable to adjust his weight in time. He tumbled, landed hard on a sideways-turned ledge, and rolled to recover.
By the time he stood—
Seul was already hovering.
Literally.
She wasn't flying.
She'd rendered herself centerless—removing her connection to gravitational anchors, allowing her to manipulate her position like she was moving pieces on a chessboard.
Jin exhaled slowly. "She's severed local gravity tethers. That's…"
Unnatural.
She moved—not fast, but inevitably. Every step a rotation of the world itself.
Kaito stood still.
Then clenched both fists—and the black band on his wrist shattered.
Jin blinked. "He broke it?"
No.
It had fulfilled its function.
Because Kaito didn't move anymore like a man.
He launched again—this time with a streak of red-hot velocity, not from muscle but from inverted gravitational rebound.
He met Seul in the air.
Their bodies collided mid-field.
Gravity vs. momentum. Mass vs. inertia.
The entire platform beneath them folded inward, as though both sides of a black hole had kissed.
Jin stepped forward without realizing.
The others around him held their breath.
Kaito slammed his palm into Seul's shoulder—his motion reinforced by invisible, pulsing weights stacked behind his strike like piled force.
Seul caught his wrist. Twisted.
Kaito flipped backward—using her manipulation like a pivot point. He struck again from a new angle.
Seul crushed the air between them—and a gravity mine exploded just inches from his chest.
BOOM—
He flew sideways, bouncing off a stone shard, tumbling through the air.
Before he landed, Seul extended both hands.
The battlefield contracted.
Stones, air, fragments of force—all pulled inward toward a single point in front of her chest.
Her eyes narrowed.
And she spoke.
"Event Collapse."
A sphere of black spiraled outward.
Silent.
No sound. No flash.
Only pressure.
It hit Kaito dead-on.
Jin winced. The air around the arena buckled. Even at a distance, the pull was so intense that the floating panels above them shifted.
Seul didn't stop.
She pivoted mid-air, moved her hands apart, and the singularity split into six—each one trailing gravitational arcs like orbiting satellites.
She rotated again—and the spheres fired.
Straight down.
Straight at Kaito's landing zone.
BOOM—
BOOM—
BOOM—
The explosions were silent.
No fire. No shockwave.
Just impact. Density. Reality being torn in discrete, invisible detonations.
When the dust cleared—
Kaito stood.
One knee bent.
One eye bloodied.
Half his torso bruised deep purple.
But still grinning.
"I'm starting to think you're not holding back," he coughed.
Seul dropped to the ground slowly, the gravity around her spiraling down in reverse flow.
She didn't respond.
But her breathing was heavier now.
Jin saw it—subtle signs of drain. Using that kind of technique didn't come without cost.
And then—
Kaito laughed once more. "Alright, Seul. Time to show you what my item actually does."
He reached behind his back—and pulled it out.
A cube.
Small. Jet black. Floating just above his palm.
He twisted it—and the moment it turned—
The gravity around him began to spin.
It didn't just anchor his mass. It created gravitational distortions—like miniature planets orbiting a single sun.
Kaito clicked his fingers.
"Let's equalize."
He launched forward again.
And Seul?
She stepped into the storm.
Their collision this time wasn't silent.
It was thunder.