John Wick - Chapter 59: Nate vs. Joe: Stats? I’ve Got Those Too (Patreon)

The two put on protective gear and picked up steel sparring swords.

They took their positions.

Nate gripped his sword and tested the balance. The blade was long and slender, with the center of gravity sitting a short distance in front of the guard. It was a standard sword meant for weapon sparring.

He gave it a couple of two-handed swings.

The blade hissed through the air.

The huge man stood across from him.

Seriously, this guy was way too tall.

The two-handed sword looked almost like a one-handed weapon in Joe’s hands.

And this thing was nearly 1.3 meters long.

But Joe stood close to two meters tall and weighed well over 120 kilograms. With a steel sword weighing less than a kilogram in his hands, the proportions looked completely wrong.

The sword looked ridiculously thin, almost like he was holding an oversized chopstick.

“What are the rules?” Nate asked.

“We fight until one of us concedes or gets disarmed.”

Joe spoke without expression.

“No restricted targets.”

Nate raised an eyebrow.

No restricted targets meant the throat, back of the head, and groin were all fair game.

Under rules like these, the advantage of height and reach became even greater.

Before you could even reach your opponent, the tip of his sword could already be at your throat.

“Fine!”

Nate glanced at his Trait.

[Iron Severing (Lv5): Sword and blade power increased by 270%. Damage against metal objects doubled. (3/25 swords and blades)]

The value of this Trait spoke for itself.

370% × 2.

Against metal objects, Nate had nearly seven and a half times the normal destructive power.

What did that mean?

You like crushing people with raw stats?

Fine.

I’ll show you what a real stat monster looks like.

Nate lowered his face guard and stared at Joe through the steel mesh.

Elena helped John retreat to the edge of the sparring area. John was still a little pale, but his eyes remained fixed on the fight.

Henry and Winston were still sitting beside the table. One held a bowl of soy milk while the other ate a steamed bun, both of them watching like this was some kind of show.

Marcus frowned. His lips moved slightly, but in the end, he said nothing.

“Begin,” Winston called casually.

His voice wasn’t loud, but both men heard him.

Joe stepped forward.

His footwork wasn’t particularly fast, but every step was solid and grounded. He kept his center of gravity low, the point of his sword aimed directly at Nate’s face in a textbook thrusting stance.

Nate quickly calculated the difference.

Using the exact same sword, his effective reach was almost thirty centimeters shorter.

That wasn’t a gap technique could easily make up for.

In weapon fighting, thirty centimeters meant that unless the skill difference between the two fighters was enormous, you might not even touch your opponent before his weapon reached you.

But stats could make up for it.

If I can’t hit you...

I can still hit your sword.

Joe attacked.

As he advanced, he changed his stance, quickly bringing the sword up over his shoulder before delivering a powerful downward cut aimed straight at Nate’s head.

He wasn’t as absurdly fast as he had been while boxing, but he was still plenty fast.

Nate immediately stepped forward and whipped his sword upward.

CLANG—!

The collision of steel rang sharply through the room.

Elena flinched at the sound.

Joe’s sword snapped clean in half from Nate’s upward strike.

The broken section clattered onto the floor.

Nate’s blade continued upward until its point was aimed directly at Joe’s throat.

“This...”

Joe stared at the half-sword still in his hand.

Then he looked at Nate’s intact weapon.

For the first time, an actual expression appeared on his face.

Confusion.

Outside the sparring area, Elena was already shouting Nate’s name and clapping excitedly.

John said nothing, but the excitement in his eyes was impossible to hide.

Henry turned toward Winston.

“Was there something wrong with that sword? Has it been sitting around too long without maintenance?”

Winston looked just as puzzled.

“Impossible. Those are top-quality.”

Nate examined his own sword.

A small chip had appeared where the blades had collided.

He lowered the weapon and backed away from Joe.

“I win this round.”

Then he rested the sword on his shoulder and looked at him.

“Want another sword?”

Joe nodded and started toward the edge of the sparring area.

“Joe!”

Winston called his name and tossed him a fresh sword.

Joe caught it cleanly, then raised the blade in front of himself in a kendo stance.

“Again?” he asked.

Nate smiled.

“Let’s go.”

This time, Nate moved first.

He raised his sword overhead, tracing a semicircle as he entered Joe’s defensive range.

Joe frowned.

He clearly hadn’t expected Nate to attack proactively.

Joe shifted back into a thrusting stance, preparing to use his superior reach to force Nate away.

Nate struck.

A clean downward cut.

And once again, he was aiming for Joe’s sword.

Joe raised his blade horizontally to block.

The two steel swords collided.

CLANG—!

Joe looked down.

His sword...

Had broken again.

Nate lightly tapped him on the head with his blade, then turned away.

“This round is mine too.”

He walked back two steps, turned around, and pointed his sword toward Joe.

Confidence practically overflowed from his voice.

“And I’m winning the next one too.”

Winston tossed Joe another sword.

He caught it and took a defensive stance.

John and the other men watching from the sidelines were beginning to look shocked.

They had realized something wasn’t right.

Elena was the only one who hadn’t.

She simply stared at Nate standing there with a sword in hand, full of confidence, as though she had just discovered an entirely new species.

Winning through stat advantage?

Anyone could do that.

This time, Nate attacked first.

His swordsmanship wasn’t particularly sophisticated. He didn’t have the systematic technical foundation Joe possessed.

The only weapon training Nate had was some half-baked Filipino stick fighting he had learned in a club during his previous life.

But he was fast.

Fast enough to surprise Joe.

Nate unleashed a horizontal slash at an almost perfect angle.

Joe raised his sword vertically to block.

CLANG—CRACK!

This impact was even louder.

Joe watched with his own eyes as Nate’s blade cut through his sword almost without resistance.

The severed tip spun several times through the air.

It struck the floor with a metallic clatter and bounced twice.

Nate’s sword still had plenty of momentum left.

It slammed into Joe’s arm with a heavy thud.

The protective gear around his forearm visibly caved inward.

A sharp burst of pain shot through the padding.

Joe’s pupils contracted.

He immediately twisted with the force of the blow to lessen the impact.

Even so, he staggered back two steps.

Something was wrong.

He had used all kinds of weapons in sparring before.

Nothing like this had ever happened.

Fuck!

Winston, you screwed me!

Wasn’t I supposed to come here and beat up some rookie?!

Joe immediately threw away the broken sword.

“Stop, stop! I’m done!”

“I give up! I give up!”

The stern expression he had been struggling to maintain completely collapsed.

Even the way he spoke suddenly became much faster.

Joe stared at the broken half of the sword lying on the ground.

The cut was so clean that it looked as though the steel itself had been sliced apart by an impossibly sharp blade.

This was fucking ridiculous.

The sidelines fell silent for a moment.

Joe looked down at the broken sword again.

Then he looked back at Nate, as though trying to confirm something.

“...There’s something wrong with you,” Joe said with complete certainty.

Nate shrugged.

He gave the sword a casual flourish, spinning it twice through the air before catching it neatly.

Then he rested it on his shoulder.

“You’re the one with a problem.”

“Ancient martial arts. Ever heard of them?”

Joe opened his mouth, then stopped.

He struggled for several seconds before finally replying helplessly, “Come on, man. You really think I’m going to fall for that?”

“Huh? You caught me?” Nate replied sarcastically.

Winston finally stepped in.

“All right, gentlemen. That’s enough. Come take a break.”

Nate looked at Winston.

Then at Joe.

Something suddenly clicked.

Oh, so that was how it was, Winston.

You set this whole thing up, didn’t you?

Joe hesitated for a moment before extending his hand.

“I’m Joe.”

“Nate.”

Nate pushed down his irritation and shook his hand.

Then his expression turned serious.

“You owe John an apology.”

Joe sighed helplessly.

“Fine.”