I lost my Copy System and awakened a Plundering System

"Hey," Draco heard a malicious voice behind him. He turned to see a group of students standing there. They were five in number: four guys and a lady.

"Tch, would you drop your token, or do you want us to do it for you?" the man, supposedly their leader, said. His words made Draco chuckle. Someone dared to plunder his points.

"Why are you chuckling?" the leader shouted. He had spiky brown hair, the expression of a tout, and the aura of a ruffian. One of the other five, who had been observing Draco, whispered something to him.

"Then what concerns me?" the leader shouted again. "It could be that his casual punch was just a façade. That might be all his strength—he might be a weakling. Also, if he's strong, he'll grovel before me, Champ."

The leader, Champ, shouted this, looking at Draco maliciously. No matter how defiant Draco was, he would grovel before him. That score of over 10,000 might just be a façade—the outburst of all Draco's strength. This was Champ's line of thought.

Draco felt like he was watching a movie. When Champ ranted that Draco would grovel before him, the only things missing were popcorn and a chair.

"You guys, take care of him," Champ ordered, not bothering to watch the battle.

"If I'm able to get this guy's points, I'll enter the top 20. If his points are high enough, I might even reach the top 15 or top 10," Champ thought happily.

He turned back, hoping to see Draco's begging expression, surrendering his points and pleading for his survival.

"I never thought your friends were this weak," Draco said. Champ's expression turned grim as he saw his four teammates lying on the ground, unconscious. They had already lost. Champ looked at Draco in shock, his mind racing with thoughts of survival or attack.

"Show me your strength. I want to see what gives you the confidence to plunder from me. I hope you aren't as weak as your teammates," Draco said.

"Weak my foot!" Champ shouted mentally. He had looted many students' points with the help of his four teammates, but here he was, seeing them defeated in less than a minute. They couldn't even hold a candle to Draco.

"If that's what you want, then eat this!" Champ shouted, throwing a punch with his right hand. Draco sensed the punch was weak and used his right hand to stop it. However, he felt the bones in his hand crack as he caught the punch.

Draco was shocked. Looking at his cracked hand, he realized he had never been injured like this by a human before. As he conceived this thought, Champ was already screaming internally, "Impossible!" He knew the strength he had used; Draco's hand was supposed to be mutilated. But all he heard was the sound of cracking bones. Champ's expression turned serious.

"Xylara, I found an interesting guy," Draco said mentally. He was intrigued—a seemingly weak punch had such shocking power.

Xylara appeared, sitting on his shoulder. "My hand bone was cracked by his weak fist. Do you know why?" Draco asked.

She looked at Champ, who was eyeing Draco warily. "No wonder," she replied.

Her answer made Draco twitch. Whenever he asked anything, this was always her first reply. It had become part of her personality, and it vexed him.

"I guess he's the heir of the Fist God. He became a god through the path of the body, destroying numerous planets with a punch or a kick. He trained his hands and legs to the extreme, making them formidable and lethal weapons."

Xylara's words surprised Draco. He could picture the scene of the Fist God destroying planets with his punches and kicks.

Draco's mind wandered as he recalled fragments of his memory. Such a powerful god had later been eliminated and used. Even his past selves—Draco, who had transcended—had to send Xandros and the gods into the reincarnation cycle. His heart weighed heavily as he thought of this.

"I'm still weak," Draco thought. His mood sank, and his expression turned grim as he reflected on the scenes from his memory fragments.

Meanwhile, Champ was screaming mentally. "Fist! How was he able to stop my attack? Aren't his hands supposed to be mutilated? That's what you told me!"

A small-sized young man appeared beside him. His spiky black hair waved in the air, and he wore a bandana, looking like a ruffian.

"Tch, I told you to stop shouting at me like that," Fist roared. "Do you want me to punch you again?" His words made Champ calm down.

Months ago, Champ had been an E-Ranked Awakener with the talent ability Fist Enhancement until he heard a mysterious system voice telling him he had awakened the Fist God System.

With the system and his ability, he showed greater talent. But now, it seemed there was always a higher level of power to challenge him.

"Can't you use common sense? I told you that you aren't the only unique system holder. If someone managed to block your punch, it means they're a unique system holder like you," Fist ranted.

"You just disturbed my sleep for nothing. Give up if you don't want to fight him," Fist snorted.

Champ felt Fist was right. It was better not to waste his strength and time battling Draco when there were other people to loot points from.

"I underestimated you, but we will meet again," Champ said, beckoning to his teammates, who had already awoken, leaving Draco alone.

His words snapped Draco out of his thoughts. His hand was already healed, so he moved.

Champ, who was swaggering away, felt a hint of danger behind him. Looking back, he saw Draco striking with a punch. He quickly used his arms to defend himself.n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

He couldn't withstand the force of the punch, which sent him flying and crashing into some trees.

"Ouch... That hurts," Champ said, scratching his back where it had hit the tree trunk. He felt another fatal danger again and saw Draco striking once more.

This time, he was prepared, dodging the punch, which snapped the tree in two.

Champ felt anger rising within him. He had already said he was leaving, but Draco seemed hell-bent on making him stay, forcing him to show his true strength—something he didn't want to do.

"Are you ready? Because this is just a warm-up," Draco grinned, moving to strike again.

Champ saw Draco blur from his surroundings and found himself flying through the air again, hitting another tree.

Draco, who had struck him, felt Champ couldn't keep up with his strength. Had he sensed it wrong? He could feel hidden strength within Champ's body, but when he struck, Champ appeared weak.

As Draco pondered this, he saw a sudden blur striking him. Moving his arms in defense, he found himself stepping back twelve times.

The blur was Champ, who had had enough. Just because he wanted to plunder Draco's points, Draco had struck him hard—twice.

"This is what I've been expecting," Draco chuckled.

He moved again, striking Champ with increased strength. Champ also moved, blocking the punch.

Draco felt he couldn't move his right hand—it was tightly grasped by Champ. He moved his left hand to throw another punch, but it was also caught by Champ's other hand.

Draco tried to retract his punches, but both hands were firmly grasped. Suddenly, he felt a hint of danger and saw an incoming leg strike.

The leg strike hit Draco, sending him flying.

"I thought he had strength when he stopped me," Champ spat out.

Meanwhile, Draco, who had been knocked down, muttered, "It looks like I underestimated him."

He hadn't expected Champ to use his leg so effectively to strike him. Wasn't he afraid of his bones cracking?

This reminded him of what Xylara had been talking about. Draco hadn't tapped into the full potential of his stats—he wasn't flexible, lacked accuracy to stimuli, and wasn't nimble enough.

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All this was because he hadn't yet experienced what it felt like to be at death's door, where one's potential could be forced out during such moments.

Draco moved again, striking at Champ, this time with even more force behind his strength. The two began to tackle each other, exchanging blows and defending.

Their fight created a loud commotion, alerting nearby students. Even the academy, watching the fight from afar, was surprised. They never thought Champ had hidden himself so deeply.

As for Champ's teammates, they had distanced themselves far from the battle range to avoid being hit by the clash of strength.

The clash lasted several minutes—a battle of fists.

Champ waved his hands in pain, frowning as he looked at Draco. While they were fighting, he noticed openings and flaws in Draco's punches. But as the fight continued, those flaws disappeared. Draco even managed to counter his leg strikes, becoming more flexible than before.

"What a fast learner!" Champ muttered in amazement.

"Is this all the heir of the Fist God can do?" Draco taunted.

Champ's expression turned serious and grave. He never thought Draco would figure out his identity.

"Since you want to see my full strength, I will gladly show you," Champ chuckled.

He touched his hand, and something began to appear on his arms.

BOOM!!

The sound of something heavy dropping to the ground echoed. Draco turned to see...