Inside a lavishly furnished lime room lit by dimmed candle lights, Mùndò lazily reclined on a luxurious white sofa, his legs propped up by a snuggly footstool while he watched the various matches on a giant screen.
For each Trainer’s victory or defeat, he learned a little from their actions, from trusting your Alt while directing—and especially communicate—the overall strategy.
He saw how many Alturixes sometimes failed to synchronize their attacks, harming themselves instead of their opponents, signaling their defeat.
He saw how many trainers also failed to have a common strategic vision, harming their Alt who, in their confusion, dragged them to their doom.
His darted a glance at his partner sitting close by, whose green eyes scrutinized every motion her potential opponents made.
After all, fighting in Doubles wasn’t the same as Singles, and Mùndò and her never even took a mock fight as a team to establish a semblance of a common strategy, leaving that job to their Alt instead.
Looks like it won’t be so simple like that, but at this juncture, what choice do they have?
At the very least, she believed that very few Alturixes would have Freeta’s level, and her diligent work ethic would save them probably—no, definitely—from the brink…
After she took a mouthful from her crystal flute, she panned her gaze to the mùkèlako, asking, “I’m curious. Why do you get that kind of preferential treatment as a Prime Pleasurer?”
“It’s simple, actually. Someone of that status attract high-end customers, and these customers obviously hang out in luxurious, therefore expensive places. Sometimes, these customers bring their Prime Pleasurers to these places as their plus-one to benefit from their rebates.’
‘So, it’s a great deal for shop owners, why? Because if they can get some extremely attractive people in their doors, it would increase the likelihood of having wealthier folks to stop by their shop, and actually proposition them on the spot! Many folks attempted to drive me away for a good time, even in mealtime!’
‘Unfortunately, I can’t ask the owners to ice-out these customers for evident reasons! You have no idea how spendthrift people can be when their loins are in heat. And that expands into many industries…” he trailed off meaningfully.
Halci nodded evenly.
She thought his life was relatively easy, but she didn’t account for the accepted, but still subtle harassment these Prime Pleasurers have to endure in their daily lives.
Would she endure it herself?
That would be a resounding no!
She appreciated even further her partner’s character, especially as he said these things pretty airily, suggesting that these propositions never went any further if refused, but still…
Her eyes slowly returned to the screen when a signal pealed across her ears.
The duo exchanged an excited glance.
Their turn had arrived!
They would finally be on stage in a moment!
Mùndò’s heart skipped many beats when he heard, “Participants number eighty-eight and eighty-nine, please go to the arena twenty-one to fight against Participants number thirty-two and thirty-three now! Your match will start in two minutes!”
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He grinned.
“Let’s go!” Halci said as she shot to her bare feet, grabbing her high sole sandals standing nearby.
It was showtime!
Goosebumps travelled across every inch of his body as he also shied to his feet.
Unlike her, he didn’t remove his flip-flops as he fiddled with them with his toes.
He reached the cyan door first and left the private room.
The afternoon sun beamed across his face as he made his way across the jam-packed stadium.
The raucous crowd was but a viscid amount of darkness filled with cheap perfume barely concealing a twinge of sweat in his eyes.
Seeing with his naked eyes was believing.
Each arena was a simple grassy field delineated by an opaque emerald light shield boxing the eight contestants in.
The Trainers stood behind an ivory line on the corners of each side barking their orders to their frenzied trainees battling in the center of the ring.
A black billboard hung above each duo, showing their win/loss ratio.
Bright flashes of light mixed with occasional curdling screams suffused an already hectic atmosphere.
When a bout ended, the southern side—facing him—disappeared, allowing the participants to file out of the arena between cries of joy or silences of sorrow.
“Dang, you left without even waiting for me!” he heard Halci complain behind him.
Gazing back at her, he said, “That’s because I knew you would catch up, and look! You did.”
She rolled her eyes.
Was he that impatient to start?
When arena twenty-one was nearby, they encountered their alts who were just as excited, their beaming eyes anticipating their match.
“Baby!” Freeta exclaimed, as she ran into her Trainer’s arms.
After they embraced each other, he softly asked, “So, did you make your breakthrough?”
“I did,” she whispered, nodding in the crook of his neck.
Despite his trusting of her, he wanted to see if his detection system agreed.
~General Information~
[Compressed]
~Status (i)~
[Compressed]
~ Ngùdis Bwindèa (i)~
[Compressed]
~ Inherited Ngùdis (i)~
1 °|Claw Mastery (i) (Level 52/Next level: 1%)| [Kàmba Ngùdi (i)]
** Inactive **
| Cost: Varies according to time length and intensity|
| Current Cost per Intensity (i): 0% of Total Éwolè every second|
Activated: 1501 Times
2 °|Shadow Fire Mastery 1st Grade (i) (Level 62/Next level: 1%)| [Kàmba Ngùdi (i)]
** Inactive **
| Cost: Varies according to time length and intensity|
| Current Cost per Intensity (i): 0% of Total Wùsù every second|
Activated: 1804 Times
He inwardly nodded.
She was right indeed!
As they happily made their way inside the arena, a robotic voice honked across his head, “ Contestant eighty-nine, please walk to the other side of the ring and stand behind the line. The match will soon start.”
He obeyed and when he stood behind the line alongside his partner, he noticed that the Electric Alt remained alongside Freeta, while the others were safely inside their Trainer.
Her choice raised his brow.
She wanted to use her strongest Alt from the start?
Well, better be safe than sorry, since they’ll need to win two bouts before they could move to the next round.
After all, what kind of Alt would their opponent take out?
Wasting the first round on this kind of carelessness could not be allowed.
A minute later, their opponents — A male and female Roland dressed in athletic clothes—arrived.
Time to check out who they were…