No room for transparency.

CRITICAL! 19 Damage!
5 Damage!

CRITICAL! 20 Damage!
5 Damage!

Infused Strike has leveled up!
Infused Strike is now level 4!

CRITICAL! 22 Damage!
5 Damage!

CRITICAL! 20 Damage!
5 Damage!

It didn't even matter that John started hitting him in the face. It didn't matter that the kicks he threw without Infused Strike did half damage when they hit Michel. It didn't matter because Michel just stood there and took it while John did just over a hundred damage to him in only a few seconds. He didn't bother trying to stop him, nor did he really look all that perturbed when he turned his head to the side and spat out a mouthful of blood.

His attacks, thankfully, did loosen some of the equipment that Michel had strapped onto his own body. John's Crushing Blows ability somehow managed to truly damage his armor with every critical hit, like the description had said it would. At times it was as simple as seeing his hand catch on some of the straps holding his Kevlar on, while in other moments the miniature explosion of light caused by John's Infused Strike would blast down against Michel's gear.

Even with his own armor steadily deteriorating, Michel didn't react. He just kept standing there until after John hit him again while he was trying to spit up blood.

CRITICAL! 20 Damage!
5 Damage!

By that point, Michel growled at the young Gamer, and John, predicting that he might retaliate, activated his Fighter's Eyes. His gaze flicked up to meet Michel's angry, hardened eyes and watched as the tensing muscles of his opponent's body abruptly stood out to John. Every flex, twist, and turn to be found in Michel's body was quickly seen through watching Michel's own eyes. Even a little flicker of a glance betrayed the fighter's intentions and plans to where he might try to hit John, and with a simple step, John moved to pivot beneath Michel's vicious backhand. He used about five mana trying to dodge the attack, but it was worth it when he saw the way Michel's hand started to follow through as he predicted it...

...until it turned suddenly in the middle of his swing and hit John anyways.

The young Gamer grunted in shock as he was once again launched across the street, further and harder than the last time. Like the young Fateweaver hedge mage that Michel had thrown against one of the nearby walls when he arrived, John's form smashed across the walls of one of the nearby buildings and fell to the ground, rubble and bricks falling after him as Michel scowled at the other man. More lightning and thunder dashed across the sky. Nearby gunshots echoed the sky's rumbling for a moment, before large shards of glass abruptly fell down to the streets below, like sharp pieces of rain. Most of the glass stayed up close to the nearby building, like the windows had been struck and then collapsed from the sudden damage caused to them... while other windows suddenly exploded outwards with a flash of blue light!

CRITICAL! -34 HP!
-8 HP!

It took a couple of seconds for John's mind to catch back up. It lingered on the way that Michel readjusted and reacted faster than John had ever seen before. It played over and over again in his mind as Michel steadily stomped his way back over to the young Gamer. His Fighter's Eyes just hadn't worked... but how? It wasn't that John didn't see the attack coming, he had seen it, it had hit him exactly how the ability showed him it would. The problem was... Michel was just faster than John was. His agility clearly outranked John's own, and why wouldn't it have? Michel was a higher level. It took some time for either one of them to catch up to the other, but eventually, John felt the throbbing in his cheek appear, and looked up just in time to see Michel strike him again from above.

CRITICAL! -40 HP!

The hit came a lot harder this time, cracking painfully against the side of John's head as Michel dazed him once more with a single punch. Though it wasn't really necessary. John had already lost almost half of his total health, and Michel was barely down a tenth of his own. He was losing, he knew it even before Michel picked him up by the throat and began to squeeze.

Subdual Effect Added: **** (120s left)

Even while dazed, John tried to hit him.

CRITICAL! 26 Damage!
5 Damage!

CRITICAL! 23 Damage!
5 Damage!

CRITICAL! 21 Damage!
5 Damage!

CRITICAL! 21 Damage!
5 Damage!

He couldn't make out any noise after that. He couldn't speak or swear or even try to convince Michel to recruit him or let him go any more. No words passed through John's mouth. What little vision he had after the last two hits gradually grew darker and darker with each passing second... but he didn't stop trying to get out or hitting Michel. He knew that if he passed out then he was screwed, and on top of that, he was already running out of Mana.

Subdual Effect (****): Your access to oxygen has been cut off in an attempt to render you ****! You have a limited amount of time to escape or restore your ability to breathe to stay awake! Lung capacity is determined through Endurance with a starting base value of two minutes at an Endurance of ten. Every ten points of Endurance after that increases breathing time by one more minute. (Current Air Time: 96s left.)

CRITICAL! 23 Damage!
5 Damage!

CRITICAL! 23 Damage!
5 Damage!

CRITICAL! 21 Damage!
5 Damage!

CRITICAL! 21 Damage!
5 Damage!

Even while being held there and just allowed to hit Michel, John couldn't get him down to half health. He could hear his heart already pounding in his ears, he could see objects raining silently down onto the streets below, and his face felt like it was pulsing with each beat... but he ran out of Mana, already. He beat on him a few more times to try and get it back with the help of his boots effects, but he couldn't hurt him fast enough. At the most, he just managed to get another forty-five points of damage in before his mind could catch up to do the math. He didn't have enough time. If he could swing or cast his abilities faster, then maybe... but he wasn't a high enough level for that.

CRITICAL! 6 Damage!
5 Damage!

By the time John had a little over a minute of air left, he was barely kicking at Michel. A couple of pop-ups appeared with each strike, and he managed to bring his Mana back up over thirty again with his punch-kick combos, but he couldn't break the fighter's grasp. Hell, he even got a 'Fatigued' notification for trying so hard. It cut his movement speed by a fourth of what it was supposed to be, as if he didn't have enough problems already.

Limiting Effect added: Fatigued (120s)
Subdual Effect: **** (24s left.)

"I am sorry, if it provides any consolation to you in these final moments," Michel muttered as he held John up off the ground, leaving his feet dangling idly beneath him, but the young Gamer merely flipped him the bird. Michel’s nose was broken and bleeding by that point, and his lips were more cracked and cut than John had ever seen them, but he still didn't even flinch. By that point, the only thing that seemed like it could have made Michel move was killing him, and John didn't have the time or the Mana to try and consider that. He needed help. He needed one of the girls to come and save him. He-

"J-John?" The young Gamer would have cried out in joy if he could have when he heard the whisper of a nearby, familiar, feminine voice. He could hear the sound of rocks and gravel crunching under her feet as she approached, and all three men, Michel, Taylor, and John, turned to see her approach from one of the nearby alleyways. Her voice was a little weak and shaken when she spoke up a second time, loud enough for all of to hear, but there was no mistaking her when they all looked up.

"Michel?!" Grace exclaimed when she saw the fighter's hand wrapped around John's throat, and the young Gamer's face blanched. Almost all of them froze when they saw the furrowed, confused face of the bruised woman before them.

"An innocent?" Taylor spoke up for the first time. His voice was dry and nervous as the three of them all stared at her, but John heard it fairly clearly. His voice rang out in John’s head, as if everything he said echoed in John's mind. "Maybe... Maybe you pulled her in when you smashed the box?" He sounded almost hopeful when he spoke, but Michel left no room for debate.

"Or you screwed up and let her in when you first used the damn thing," Michel said, and both the giant and Taylor winced when Grace took another step. Michel's grimace didn't fade though. He just turned back to his task, facing John with a solemn frown before he addressed Taylor again.

"Go deal with her... mercifully."