Meanwhile, in the plains of Wisconsin

Casual evil roams in the search for community.

Midnight; pitch black. The cold wind breezes past three figures. The repetitive sound of marshy wet steps is the only thing to be heard for a long while. Time blurs the longer the three of them walk. The stars are splattered all across the sky. The stench of corn and mud fills the fields for acres on end. Rustle. Rustle. Rustle. Rustle. Large flap of wings, and a hoot echoes nearby. The endless chirping drives them more and more annoyed, until it eventually evaporates into the background of their mind. The field mice crawl about. Led by a vague spiritual notion, they sense the acres warp around them. Walking through a film of oil, the air sits still. Something denser; somewhat warmer. Nature is quieter. The only thing out of the ordinary, is a slim yet noticeable path through the cornfields. The three cloaked figures walk forwards for acres on end without saying a word. Eventually, their tracks stop.

They are met with a dirty blonde 20 year old smoking a cigarette, hunched over, sitting atop a barrel, all while tuning their acoustic guitar.

"Password?" Lazily questions the the boy. He wore a thrasher shirt, a beanie, and tan shorts.

"The falcon has arrived," boldly states the middle figure.

"..."

The boy squints and scratches the back of his head.

"ehhhh....

its actually hawk but... close enough.

You're in."

The figure to the right of the middle one hits their arm.

"See I told you it wasn't falcon."

"I highly doubt you knew it was hawk either, so I don't want to hear it," rebuts the middle one.

"We're already here, so it doesn't matter," says the remaining figure.

"What's uh... what's with the cloaks?" asks the 20 year old boy.

"Oh, well I know it gets muggy around night time, so I told them to wear layers. They look like cloaks but we're actually wearing baggy hoodies," says the middle figure. He pulls off his hood, to reveal his chiseled face and blonde short hair, coupled with his trademark triangular black sunglasses.

"...

You wear sunglasses at midnight?" asks the 20 year old.

"See, I knew it was weird too," exclaims the figure to the right of him. Unveiling himself, Edward's unique hair showed off its shiny pitch black luster.

The remaining figure unveils himself; a bored expression, befitting Jinsei Tsudzuku.

"Hold up; before you guys enter, I need you guys to raise your right hand and plead this contract. Is that cool?"

"Yes."

"Sure."

"Quick question," starts Edward. Both Chad and Jinsei look at him with a mix of concern and annoyance.

"Don't worry, I'm going to agree, but out of sheer curiosity what happens if we don't agree to the contract."

"Oh simple. You die."

"Ah."

Edward clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes.

"Bummer," he says while raising his hand. The other two do so as well.

"I _state_your_name_ agree to the conditions bestowed onto me before entering the Knoxville community center."

The three of them repeat after the employee.

"1. I agree to restrict my use of ki, sorcery, and psychopower unless directly permitted by staff, or in circumstances where they are eligible, such as the arena.

2. I agree to not possess any weapons upon entering the premises.

3. I agree to pay everything in cash, as any payment done digitally or through card possesses too many risks for the community and the center.

4. Any business, be it selling or squabbling is to be kept between the parties themselves; don't drag other people into it.

5. I agree to not vend anything unless explicitly given permission by the community center (advertising does not count as vending).

6. I agree to stay safe, be myself, and have fun!"

All three of them roll their eyes.

The 20 year old continues.

"Upon agreeing to these terms, I understand that any infraction of these rules will confiscate all of my abilities, in which I will be forced to leave the premises with my memory wiped, as well as a high chance of brain trauma occurring."

He lowers his hand. "Understood?"

The three of them repeat the last line, before simultaneously saying "yes" to the conditions.

"Great!"

The guide claps his hands twice, before the scenery fades away into a vast whiteness. Feeling the ground beneath them shake, a large square cuts into the dirt, lowering the four of them. The sound of whirring continues.

Chad raises his hand whilst saying, "hey, quick question if you don't mind. I doubt any of you would willingly let the risk of any normal person walk around here, and I doubt you guys didn't detect our presence out of sheer coincidence so if you don't mind me asking, how'd you guys do it?"

"Oh yeah, that's a simple answer. You see, the Knoxville's own the land. One of the owner's, Johnny, is my cousin. He has the ability to map out coordinates and he's able to do whatever he wants within the perimeters. The smaller the area, the stronger his control over it is. The area is big, being casted over 200 out of our 500 acres of land. Any person who doesn't possess ki, magic, or sorcery is excluded, and is then teleported to the other side of the perimeter as if nothing happened."

Jinsei makes a silent reaction; Edward notices.

The employee continues, "In the off chance that cops get suspicious about our activity, we turn off the perimeters and the area reverts back to normal; there's a reason the center only operates from sundown to sunrise. Anyway, those who enter and are privy to this side of the world are automatically monitored. But Johnny's a busy guy, so what he did was add three 'snipers' forming a triangle around the area. Killing a person with this big of an area would take too long, and constricting someone of their abilities would make them notice immediately, so they'd just run back out the very moment something felt off. So if someone were to do something real stupid, the snipers would shoot them. Even if the person is able to use Ki: Deflection, there's two other bullets that would hit them. The cheeky sum'bitch even empowered it by limiting the number of 'snipers' to three. He would have more than one, and still be stronger than if there were 5, or a hundred 'snipers', thus amplifying the power of the shots. So even if he's asleep, he has very little to worry about. And even with all that said and done-

I'm here."

Edward quietly yawns.

Chad raises his hand once more. "Another question: why the hell would you tell anyone about their technique?"

The employee audibly laughs. "Woah there tiger; did you already forget all of your powers are effectively sealed? The very moment this area detects malice with the use of a power, it confiscates them."

Chad furrows his brow.

"If you're implying I was going to use them against you, you'd be incorrect. I don't appreciate the prejudice, I was just curious."

The employee shrugs.

"Hey now, you'd be surprised how many people try to pull something slick; its become a habit to warn new guests."

Chad crosses his arms. "Continue."

"Aaanyway, that's the first thing. The second part is that since I just explained how the ability works to someone else, I just made it stronger."

Jinsei's eye twitches.

"And lastly:

It's to build trust.

You guys are new here, right?

Well then, what better way to get to know the community, than by being upfront."

The employee smiles, as the blank elevator doors open.

"The name's Michael by the way.

Welcome to The Underground."

Upon stepping out, a sprawling neon mall was set before their eyes. Bustling with a plentiful amount of crowds, ranging from people who carried themselves as they would in their typical life, to others who visibly follow their spiritual creed down to the very attire they wear. A man with one arm bargains with a skater over the price of a knife. Several small cozy restaurants crowd the curving walls of the area, shaping a food court of sorts. A flock of tattooed people crowd over a table with an intense match going on; a Gathering of Magic. Not too far away, vendors spread all sorts of weapons and tools all over their tables and picnic cloths. Two men sitting in a corner look at the three newcomers: a black man wearing a tuxedo, and a white man wearing a red Hawaiian shirt, khaki shorts, and flip flops. They're both wearing sunglasses. Children mummified with copious amounts of dirty bandages and veils run around the area.

Edward flinches, saying "kids?"

The other two don't bat an eye.

The most eye catching thing about the setting however, were the stairs that descended downwards. This section of the community center took the shape of an indoor sports stadium, with levels that replaced seats with comfortable flat layers to accommodate anyone who wanted to vend their wares, set up a table, or just stand around and chill. Though the top layers were absent with chairs, the more the stairs descended, the more seats would be set. At the bottom of the eight set of stairs is a large glass container for spectators to see through. Behind the glass veil was a large rectangular arena with ten foot concrete tiles as the floor. Above the arena were screens showing the fight to the upper layers. Two people were fighting: a sturdy looking man with amber spiked hair, holding a kendo stick, and a bulky armored figure wearing a gas mask, equipped with a large bowie knife the size of his own torso. Ripping his gas mask off, the figure sucks in a large amount of air, before belching out a large blast of flame. Through the fire and flames, the swordsman leaps forward, breaching past the fiery screen, and whacking the back of the armored mage's helmet.

The crowd cheers. Fists pump the air. Beer bottles clash against each other. People grunt and clench their dollar bills and betting tickets. Some people pout each time their voted fighter takes a hit. Others explode and shout "WHAT ARE YOU DOING? GET BACK UP GOD DAMN IT- FUCK."

By no means are these the only things within the center. As the three of them look at the round formation of the area, they notice large halls that split off into other sections of the community center.

"Jesus..." grunts Edward.

Michael raises his hand as he steps back into the elevator.

"If you guys need a hand, just give me- or anyone around here really- a call. If you guys want to leave, just come back to this elevator. See ya around!"

Jinsei and Chad wave.

"Goodbye."

"Yeah."

"YAAAAAAAAAAWN"

Jinsei and Chad look at Edward with an annoyed glance.

"Say guys, sorry if I wasn't paying attention but, remind me what we're doing here again," continues Edward.

Jinsei walks up to Edward and quietly talks.

"We're here to get people on our side to attack Japan."

Edward looks at him with blank, wide eyes.

"That.

That...

sounds really dumb. Especially if its soon."

"I assure you, its all a part of the plan in the long run. Besides, we're not here to make friends, so we won't be using them for a long while. We're going to hire a bunch of assassins from around here, preferably people who aren't complete deadweight and could do some substantial amount of damage to some of the Academy's forces. They're going to attack the nearby cities near the academies. If things line up correctly, this is when other schools will be visiting each other for a joint event. The more people distracted, the more sorcerers we'll get out of the way, and more importantly, the less eyes within the academy. I need a couple of things from the academy, and Solomon's ability to make things completely undetectable is the only thing that can help me with this. I'm going to be honest, I never expected him to be useful, but after running a few experiments, I can confirm, his ability is completely undetectable. No amount of fine tuning spiritual or psychic sensing, or concentrating on the world or one's senses with ki, nor any type of frequency, are able to detect him. Even with each steps he takes on grass, its as if the world corrects itself and the patch of grass moves as if it weren't being stepped on."

Edward looks at Jinsei with a blank look. He then claps his hands and smiles.

"Well, looks like you know what you're doing. What do you want me and Chad to do?"

Chad walks closer to the two. "We're all going to look for people to hire, as well as any information really. This place is brand new to all of us. Best to spread out and see what it has to offer us. I'll most likely check out with what's going on at the arena."

Jinsei answers next: "I'll go see if there's any advertisements or knowledgeable people around here."

"And I'll go check-"

Edward pauses;

"wha-

what the hell they already LEFT?"

.

.

.

Chad walks down the hill of stairs and scans the crowd watching the current match. There's a crowd of white guys with beer bottles littering around their feet. Its very clear that they had a hard time standing as is.

"(I doubt they'd even be able to talk...)"

Near them, five figures cloaked in different colors huddle around as they analyzed the match. Their golden jewelry were the only things brighter than the stage lights.

"(They seem too busy to be bothered...)"

Between the two crowds was a lone young man. Standing at a slightly bellow average height, the 20-something year old has black hair that was styled into a pompadour. He wears a square, thick, baggy flannel, as well as equally baggy pants. His boots are clearly worn. He's smoking a cigarette, keenly looking at the fight at hand.

"(...

Better than nothing I suppose,)" thinks Chad.

He walks over to him, approaching from the side.

"Say uh, do you know how this whole arena thing works?"

The guy glances at him with a side eye, scanning up and down before looking back at the fight.

"You new here?" He asks.

"Yeah, if you couldn't tell."

"Sweet dude," says the figure in cool, nonchalant fashion. The figure presents his hand to Chad; Chad goes for a typical handshake before noticing the guy curls his fingers. Confused, Chad also curls his fingers- only to be met with the guy's fist bumping into his own.

The guy looks at Chad with a confused gaze. "Damn bro, you're sweaty."

Chad nervously wipes his hand on his jeans.

"I'm not good with new people."

"Yet you're the one coming up to me."

"...yeah."

The man chuckles.

"Pahaha, the name's Jordy. And you are?"

"Chad."

"What's up Chad, What brings you here?"

"Business. Seeing the community. You?"

"I've been here for around right under a year but, mainly vibing. The people here are chill."

Chad looks forward and pays attention to the fight. The armored freak pants, frantically stepping away from the edge of the arena. The other fighter, the guy with the kendo stick, with a few minor bruises and burn marks, smiles, and motions for the opponent to come towards him.

Jordy cackles.

Chad leans slightly towards Jordy's way, and asks: "I'm assuming you're an assassin since you're a part of this community. Are you?"

"Woah man, not me dude; I'm a pacifist," responds Jordy. "I'm a part of this community, and I know you're new but- this community's huge, right? You should not lump people in here bro. Yeah there's assassins around here, varying from amateurs to pros but, there's honest people here too. A majority of the people here associate with the black market, but we're not all bad. Most of us are just trying to make an honest buck. Not every person who sells a gun is some terrorist; what the person does with that weapon is on the customer. They're just providing for themselves. I know there's some taboo stuff here and there, but if you chill with the right crowd, you'll be fine, ya know?

"Yeah, I hear you," replies Chad. "Say Jordy, do you participate in the arena?"

"Oh hell yeah dude, I love it 'ere."

"...

I thought you said you were a pacifist."

Jordy raises his hands, "ah, I get what you mean. Yeah no, there's two reasons I do this. For one, I'm a pacifist in the sense that I don't kill. But beat people up? Say less. You see back in Chicago, there's a lot of people there that need to get punched in the face right? But I don't wanna kill anybody; It's enough over there as is. But I'm a firm believer that if you punch a face enough times, they will change.

..."

Jordy looks at the ground.

"Or they won't."

He regains his composure.

"But, I just like to think that people can change and be better."

Chad interrupts: "how are you so sure about that."

Jordy scratches the back of his head.

"Well, its not like every person is gonna react the same. I'm not dumb enough to think that my way works with everyone. And I know that people change only if they want to. But like- the way I see it, if talking and screaming and therapy won't work," Jordy pauses and looks at the ground.

"Then giving someone a taste of their own medicine will someday wake them up."

He looks back up to Chad and smiles.

"But that's just me.

As for number two:

MONEY"

Chad gave a semi-irked face with a raised eyebrow.

"(Way to be so noble...)" thinks Chad to himself.

"Aw come on don't gimme that look. Its an honest way of getting money. Both guys are consenting adults who put money on the line. If I win, I win; if I lose- oh well."

He shrugs.

"That's how it goes~"

"I see... and what abilities do you use? I'm assuming you use some sort of ki."

"Yeah I do, how could you tell?"

Chad gives him a weirded out look.

"Its not like you were just talking about punching people... also I can see a faint outline of your muscles through your shirt."

"Oh paha, thanks. But for right now I don't really have an ability, I'm just working on my fundamentals. I'm half ki half magic though. You?"

"Same thing."

"And your abilities?"

"I punch things. Really hard."

Jordy puts his hand on his chin. "And what about the magic aspect."

Chad purses his lips and crosses his arms. "No offense, but I don't think I'm comfortable with telling someone I just met what my magic ability is."

Jordy shrugs. "I guess that's fair..." He then tilts his head down and shoots side-eyed glare with a cheeky grin. "Unless you're scared that is..." He then faces Chad with a pumped up fist.

"Come on, you and me. $300 money match at the arena later tonight."

Chad raises his eyebrow. "You're quite confident."

Jordy responds with a smile and an irked eyebrow, "you're one to talk."

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Chad scoffs and smiles. "Sorry but, I'm going to have to deny tonight. I'm just browsing right now."

Jordy pouts and kicks the ground. "Damn." He then turns back to Chad, "well anyway, maybe next time."

Chad smiles. "Sure. I've got to say though, you're pretty open about your abilities... why?"

Jordy shoots back a smile. "Because dude, its really not that deep. I mean yeah, I don't have an ability yet so telling you what I'm capable of isn't going to help you much regardless but like, I see everyone's vibe right, and if I like you- I like you. But if I sense you're weird then I'll just walk away, you know? That goes for a lot of the community. Now, that's not to say that you should trust everyone around here- no. There's some genuine freaks out here. But if you hang with the right crowd... you're chilling. I've made some genuine best friend material out here; people from all walks of life. You get to learn more, both about the world, about others... and about the good and bad of it all. But that's life, and as such, the community here's pretty solid. I've only been to one other community all the way in Michigan, and the sorcerers there are a lot stronger but, its a lot smaller, and just don't vibe well, you know? I don't know man, I just love it here."

"I see...

I'm happy for you. I've always been curious about these types of communities, but I've never been able to, mainly because of work or... family." Chad winces upon the utterance of the word; Jordy takes note. "But otherwise, I'm glad its what I expected, and more. Of course you're the first person I've met here so, I'll see how the rest goes but for now it seems... alright. Say, you mind explaining to me how all this arena stuff works?"

"Oh for sure. Come over here."

The two of them walk down the stairs and onto the level of the arena. Right beside the steel entrance of the giant glass cage, was a table with a man sitting behind it. A beanie made a shadow over his eyes. With a relaxed posture, the man looks up and calmly asks, "can I help you two?"

"Yeah so Chad here's a new guy, I'm just showing him how the arena works."

The calm man smiles. "Ah I see."

Jordy then turns to Chad and explains: "so you wanna come over here and sign up with one of these guys. They have sign up sheets and you can either sign up for any open slot that's available and fight a stranger, wager and agree on the amount of money you both will bet on, or come over here with the guy you want to fight, agree on a specific date and train until the day comes. I'm going to be honest, the spots here get filled up kinda quickly so if you want to fight on the day of, its pretty hard to get a spot in. Hell, sometimes matches get cancelled only because some people like to stall their fights- even when there's a ten minute time limit."

"Sounds simple enough. Are there ranks around here?"

"Oh yeah, there's no 'levels' per se, but there's definitely a board here full of people's win streaks, the top 10 fighters of the month, and so on and so forth."

Chad's grins in anticipation. Finally, a lead. "(If I can hire some of the top people here, surely they'll be of some use to the mission...)"

"Who would you say is the strongest in here?"

"Oh the strongest...?

...

Well you're looking at him."

Chad raises his eyebrow as he looked at Jordy.

It takes a second for Jordy to realize Chad was looking at him before he goes "what- no; The guy over there with the stick. I said that thinking you were looking at the fight."

Chad looks up at the fight. Sure enough, the armored figure was lying on the ground while the guy with the kendo stick raised both his arms and rejoiced.

"..."

Chad looks at his friend.

"That guy?"

"Yeh."

Chad gives a disgruntled look.

"But he's so-

He has a-

💀

That guy he was fighting wasn't anything special though. I'm sure any one of us could take the gas mask guy down."

Jordy rubs his chin.

"You're not wrong," he replies. "But I wouldn't count him out right away. I'm not sure how experienced you are in magic but, this guy is the current number 1 for a reason."

"I guess I'll go talk to him in a bit... besides, what are the rules of the arena? I'm sure some people have to hold back."

"Hold back? What do you mean?" asks Jordy.

"Well let's say there's a magic specialist, and he has the power to use bombs. If he detonates one, I doubt the center would just allow for the place to get nuked."

Jordy chuckles.

"Ahh that's what you mean. So in that sense yeah people are limited. In that specific scenario however, the bombs wouldn't go anywhere outside the arena. First of all, I'm sure Mikey explained to you that we're inside an area with special coordinates, right?"

"...Yeah?"

"Yeah well, we're actually not on Earth right now."

Chad tilts his head.

"That... explains a decent amount."

"Yeah. If you want to be fancy I guess you could call it a pocket dimension but the point is, we're not on Earth. Johnny is able to shape the size of the perimeter outside, but it won't affect the size of the inside here; he can make it the size of a hopscotch square, and we'd still be completely fine. That being said, if it weren't for the contract that we all signed when we got in here, we could've still used our abilities. Technically we still can, but the contract has an automatic filter that confiscates abilities if it has a rather unsavory intent behind it like 'malicious' or whatnot. I'm gonna be honest, I'm not gonna risk showing you my abilities, even if its with a harmless intent, you know how it is. ANYWAYS, With that in mind, I'm sure you heard from Mike that there's some few exceptions. The guy who runs the arenas, or technically, the owner of the Arena space is one of those few exceptions and as such, he's able to use his ability. The stage can take any shape or form that the creator pleases; hence its indestructibility. So, the analogy of the bombs wouldn't work in the first place. Going back to the rules though: they go as follows:

1. No killing. Depending on the circumstances, the effects of the punishment range from a ban, confiscation, or even death. Certain circumstances are exempt.

2. There are various criteria when it comes to fights. Depending on the custom ruleset the fighters want to be applied, fights can either be judged via knockout rules, point rules, ringout rules, style rules, and so on and so forth.

3. There is a 10 minute time limit. If the time runs out, the victor can either be judged by the crowd, judges, or based on whatever the ruleset is.

And I'm sure there's more niche stuff there but that's basically it. The killing one is the main penalty, and the waiver you sign actually trades your life force for your opponent's if you kill them... unless both of you are crazy enough to agree to a death match then... there you go."

Chad audibly clicks his tongue.

"(So the chances of assassins going to the arena are pretty low, seeing as how they more often than not would risk killing themselves due to the contracts. And I'm not sure many assassins would be confident in a death match if the other guy is confident in killing as well.)"

"Say, Jordy, by any chance are there assassins who compete in the death match rules, or arena in general?"

Jordy scratches the back of his head.

"Man... I wanna help you but honestly bro, I'm still pretty new here. I only ever come like twice a month and even then, I rarely see any death matches here."

"I see. Well, I appreciate it regardless."

"(Come to think of it,)" thinks Chad, "(even if there aren't that many assassins who participate in the arena, I don't doubt that good enough fighters would still be able to do a decent job of taking a couple of sorcerers down, especially with good enough pay. Speaking of which, I don't think...)"

"Hang on Jordy, I need to make a quick call."

"Say less 👍"

Chad quickly whips out his phone and calls Jinsei.

"What happened," asks Jinsei.

"I just realized, we're going to pay the assassins, right?"

"If they ask, tell them its for a mission in Japan in a couple of months, and the pay is for each head."

"Are...

Are we actually going to pay them?"

"No. They're just there to buy us time."

Getting the hint, Chad sighed.

"As expected...

Well, I'll tell you if something comes up."

"Only call me if its an emergency. Text me otherwise."

*Click.*

"Well Jordy, it looks like I'm gonna have to talk to the guy with the stick. No offense but it looks like he'd be way more knowledgeable about these types of things. I'm not sure if you'd be too interested in the conversation."

Jordy waves his hand sideways. "Nah man, don't sweat it. I was starting to get hungry anyway. I'll be at Hotdog central if you wanna come swing by. See you around, nice meeting ya."

Chad smiles.

"Nice meeting you too, Jordy."

They shake hands.

"Peace dude," says Jordy.

As Jordy saunters away, Chad approaches the entrance of the arena. Bursting out of the door with a cloud of sweat, the swordsman with the kendo stick walks out. His shaggy amber hair went right above his shoulders. The swordsman seemed to be in his mid to late twenties. Taking off their tanktop, revealing scars on their body and fresh burn marks, the figure was left with wearing baggy pants and thick boots.

"Hey there I wa-"

Before Chad could finish his sentence, the stench runs up his nose.

"OH WHAT THE-"

Chad frantically covers his nose.

The swordsman looks towards Chad. Seeing something was wrong, the swordsman runs up to him and pats Chad on the back.

With a bit of a Scottish twinge, yet skewed with an American manner, the swordsman asks, "Oi, you good man?"

Chad looks up and sees the swordsman. As much as he would like get the questions out of the way, the only thing he could utter is "c-c-could you please put on som- COUGH deodorant?"

Confused, the swordsman takes a bit to understand what Chad was trying to say, before going "huh? Oh yeah. My bad mate. Oi! B-man, dose me."

Flying at him, a canister of aerosol deodorant lands on his palm. "Thanks bruv!" The swordsman leans away from Chad as he does his hygienic duty.

"Tch-heh, my bad. Just finished fighting, ya know? I rarely get like this unless I work up a good sweat... Or I get burned. But don't worry, you're not the first one to complain pahaha."

Disgruntled, Chad looks at him.

"...Right.

My name's Chad," he says while presenting his hand.

"I saw your fight and I heard you were the number one here. And you are?"

"Cedric Pike.

HHHHOOOOOAAAACCCHHH-PTOO"

A liter of saliva envelopes his hand before accepting Chad's hand shake.

"Pleased to beat ya!"

image [https://i.postimg.cc/sXSM0tZJ/image-2024-06-07-014515265.png]

"(...this better be worth it...)"

"Say, Cedric, you're the number one here, correct?"

"Sir, yes sir! I've been grinding this place for a while now, and I love it here. It took me a couple months (and the previous number one to get disqualified) but in the end, I finally did it," jovially says Cedric.

Raising an eyebrow, Chad asks "wait, repeat that one more time?"

"I've been grinding this place for a while now?"

"No, the thing you said last."

"I finally did it?"

"No, before that."

"But in the end?"

"No- dude 💀the LAST thing you said."

"...

...

it."

"I swear on your li-"

"Oh, were you talking about the previous number one?"

"YES."

"..."

Cedric tilts his head while shrugging.

"Well why didn't you say so?

Anyway, the previous number one was uhh... bit of a prune. He was number one for around a year or two, but he kept on winning matches 'unfairly', so to speak."

"Unfairly. How? It's a match with abilities. By every margin, everybody is cheating."

"I'm getting to that. You see, Warren was (or is) an assassin by trade. He's good at killing people-"

"But then how did he bypass the contract."

With an annoyed look, Cedric stares at Chad.

"Mate, you're impatient. Let me talk for a second, aright?"

Chad stares back at the swordsman through his sunglasses.

image [https://i.postimg.cc/hGNJsShj/image-2024-06-07-014339521.png]

"(It's okay.)" Thought Chad. "(Just. Five minutes with this guy.)"

"Now, Warren's good at that type of stuff. But his ability doesn't straight up kill anyone instantly. He can pause the process and just debilitate someone to the point where they become too injured or too weak to fight. Don't get me wrong, its not like he was one of those people who depended solely on their abilities with no fundamentals or whatnot. But that's the thing; in a sort of sense he became too good. Sure he didn't kill people in the arena, but when you effectively ruin their bodies, at that point they're already retired at age twenty. And that's bullshit man. I understand one thing if you're doing this as a side gig, but that crosses a line. So, on top of most of his matches getting stale to watch, as well as the constant complaints coming from his victims growing more and more, it was inevitable that the community decided to ban him until further notice. Serves him right."

Chad's eyes lit up behind his glasses.

"(This guy seems like the perfect fit for what we're looking for. If I were to take this guy's word seriously, then that would imply that Warren would be able to do more than just distract...speaking of distract though, I don't doubt this buffoon would serve as good bait at the least and an actual help at most.)"

"Say, Cedric. If you were to fight against this Warren fellow, would you lose?"

The Scotsman smirks before shooting a glance at Chad while pointing his thumb at himself.

"Nah.

I...

Wouldn't lose."

"..."

Chad gave a semi confused look.

"What's with that look?"

"Oh nothing, it just sounded like you were going to say something else but... don't worry about it."

"...Right. Well, to be fair I actually have fought him once before."

Chad does a double take before going "huh?"

"Yeah, it was a while ago. We both agreed to the bout and I was actually doing fairly decent. I didn't let him touch me, and I was cutting him down with my range. But the very moment I sensed he was going for that move, that's when I raised my hand and forfeited."

Confused, Chad leaned closer to Cedric. "What? Why?"

"Because here's the thing, I fight for many reasons. But the very moment it becomes lame, that's when I call it quits. His ability? Wack. His demeanor? Wack. The fact that he fights for money instead of for the fun of it? Wack. I just can't respect him. Keep in mind, I have no bad blood against any of these people; they're my people. Nothing personal about it, I just really fucking hate this guy. Simple as."

"That... didn't answer my question."

"Oh right, my bad. The basic gist is that even if I sacrificed myself to cut him down, his ability would take a toll on me, and I'm not sacrificing myself for that scuffle, no matter how much he annoys me. Not only that, but if I were to kill him, the contract would activate and kill me instead so, lose-lose."

"I see....

...say, do you just use that stick and wack it at people to win?"

"Pahaha, you're funny! But to answer your question, yes. Not just this one, but all of my swords."

"Why would you use this one over... literally any other sword."

"Well for starters, I don't want to kill anyone."

"Ah, that's... fair."

"Two, for variety-"

"Variety?"

"And most importantly three:

I'm a very indecisive man," he said with a strict, serious tone.

Chad just stares at the man.

"..."

"(I think its best not to analyze this guy)."

"Say and is this all you do? Fight?"

"Ehhh..."

Cedric rubs the scruff of his goatee.

"I...kinda. Yea! Whenever the community closes I just go to the woods with my swords and sleep."

Chad connects two and two together.

"Wait... you're homeless?"

"I prefer the term 'vagabond', but if ya want to call me that SLUR instead then, sure."

Hornswoggled, Chad continues.

"Ok wait so, what do you do for food?"

"Since I don't worry about money thanks to the arena, I make do. If I'm feeling lazy, I'll go to the grocery store and buy what I need before they kick me out. If I'm feeling really lazy I eat out at a restaurant quickly, before they threaten to kick me out. And most days I just hunt with whatever's frolicking about."

"...with your swords?"

"With my swords."

Unsure whether or not Chad's face wanted to express tiredness or confusion, his face contorts into one representing an aneurysm.

"Chad, are you ok?"

"What? Yeah, sorry I'm just... processing."

Before Chad could continue his impromptu interview with the champion, he felt a vibration in his pocket. Whipping his phone out, he sees who's calling. Immediately concerned, he answers the phone.

"Solomon?"

.

.

.

Rewind back to an hour or so.

While Chad was looking for information surrounding the arena, Jinsei was exploring the rest of the underground. From conversing with some of the local clans, to quickly browsing the wares of the merchants, the vague notion of "someone or something useful" escaped the prodigy. Eventually, he directed himself towards a particular looking wall. Sprawled with colors, the closer he went up to it, the more it revealed itself to be a board full of advertisements. Business cards pinned atop each other, fighting for attention. Posters that took up way too much space. A "Swift assassin for hire, starting at 40K" here, a "Underground Transport Agent" there. Different business, different people. Right in the center of the entire board however, one business card made itself very clear. The surrounding business cards dared not to be within its 6 inch radius. Alone, it catches the eye of Jinsei.

"Warren Visage

Assassin.

xxx-xxx-xxxx"

Clean, pristine, shade of gray as the background, while the font was simple yet refined. Jinsei took one of the cards and examined it. He raised his eyebrow regarding the ominous aura the simple piece of paper gave off, but kept the phone number in mind.

After pocketing the business card, he examined other the other cards on the board; namely, the ones who were assassins, though some other ones might be useful. There was one card with black background and purple font filled with colorful spritework and designs. Despite being an assassin duo with the contact information on it, the card itself seemed more like a trading card than a business card. Jinsei kept on examining the card more and more, commenting to himself.

"...

It hurts to look at this..."

He pocketed the card of the duo who called themselves "The dream team." He scoffs to himself, continuing to look for others cards. Unfortunately, most of them didn't seem to have any of their abilities posted on their cards, only names and contact information. Jinsei clicked his tongue. "Suppose secrecy is key..." He then scratched the back of his head.

"But meeting these people all individually is going to be a pain."

He looked at the ground before the vein's in his eyes pulsed.

"So what of it."

As he snapped back to reality, he continued scanning for more business cards, before looking to his left. Barely realizing a stranger was standing next to him for a while now, Jinsei simply stared.

"Wow..." started the stranger.

Looking up and down, Jinsei tried to make sense of the person. What he saw was a taller than average, lanky, brown haired twenty year old. They wore a bucket hat that hardly contained the copious amounts of hair. Pins were applied onto the hat, most likely resembling album covers of obscure artists from the back ends of the internet. Aside from that, they wore a tan bomber jacket on top of their red hoodie, tan shorts, and Birkenstocks.

"That's so cool, isn't it?" continued the stranger.

Jinsei continued staring while asking back, "what is?"

"Oh well you see this poster here, it says that this guy could revive people. Isn't that useful?"

Jinsei squinted at the person.

"...

...

It's you, isn't it."

"...

..."

The figure looked down while softly kicking the dirt.

"Yeah...

How could you tell?"

"I can assure you, no normal person would walk up to a poster, stare for a couple of minutes and go 'wow', trying to get someone's attention. The only people who do that are people who are trying to sell you something and/or, those who are desperate."

Jinsei turns to the stranger.

"So which is it."

The stranger put their palms up.

"Woah hey, I'm not lying dude, I swear."

Jinsei scoffs.

"On what."

"...what?"

"Swear on what damn it."

"...wha- I"

"Listen you idiot, either you swear on your life that you're telling nothing but the truth, or I'm leaving."

With a surprised face, the stranger quickly responded.

"I swear dude. 100%."

"And you have no reason to lie?"

"No."

"So you agree that you will say nothing but the truth."

The figure gave a semi-wry face.

"Uhh... yeah? Sure? Yes?"

Breathing out, Jinsei's red face cooled down.

"Alright. Well, thank you for agreeing to the contract."

"...Contract?"

"Yes. If you lie to me, you die."

"💀"

"Don't worry, you have no reason to lie to me, so you're perfectly safe. That's what you said, right?"

The stranger scratched their head. "Yeah but... Idunno death kinda sounds a little extreme but... I mean yeah I guess I have nothing to hide."

"I see. Well in any case, I apologize for getting heated there. It's just that I've been looking for someone with your specific skills and you'd be surprised how many people have wasted my time."

"Ah I see. Don't sweat it man, we're chilling. The name's Brook. And you are?"

Jinsei paused for a second.

"(I could give him a fake alias right here... but if he finds out my real name, that might cause some trouble... but then again, looking at this guy, he doesn't seem the type to sell me out, nor even know who I am. And even if he does do something to hinder me I could always just kill him.

...

No. That's still too risky. There's no reason not to give him an alias.)" thought Jinsei.

"You can call me Scion."

Understanding, Brook softly smiled while looking at the ground. "Ah. Gotcha."

"So how do you exactly go about reviving someone."

"Well you know its like... a whole process. Its kinda long too so, if you have the patience, I wouldn't mind showing you."

"I wouldn't mind you showing me either. I'm not too busy at the moment either. Say, when are you available?"

"Woah man, really? Well that's kinda quick💀lemme uhh... lemme just check my calendar real quick."

"You seem surprised."

"Well yeah man it's just...Nothing, nevermind."

Jinsei walked closer to the poster and inspected it. An amateurish artistic depiction of a zombie hand shooting out of a graveyard was the display of the poster. Aside from the most uninteresting way to advertise resurrections, Jinsei noticed the bottom of the poster. The place where people were able to rip out a contact number was still rife. Only three slits were taken off.

"...

I see you're not quite popular," comments Jinsei.

"What makes you think that?"

"Do you really want to hear that 💀"

"Actually no you're right, I don't 💀"

"Yet I'm still confused. Wouldn't people also want to revive their loved ones?"

"Yeah I thought so too, but once I explained to people that they had to come over, bring the body itself, and prepare the process that would take a couple hours minimum, they immediately get disinterested which... I can see."

Jinsei hardens his fist. His lips opened slightly.

"...

It's like they never cared for them."

"what?"

"*Ahem*- no, nothing," coughed Jinsei.

Jinsei put his hand over his mouth and started contemplating.

"(Seeing as how this man hasn't died yet, everything he's said seems to be true. But then again, truth is based on perspective.

...

No. I can't get my hopes up. I still need to see what caveat his technique has. There's no way its that clear cut and simple.)"

"Well Brook, I'm assuming you don't mind me asking you all types of questions about your technique, right?"

"Well, that's why I put up my poster in the first place. Ask away."

"Great. When-"

RING RING RING RING

"UGH"

Brook raised their eyebrow.

"When UGH?"

"No hang on, someone is calling me."

Jinsei pulled the phone out of his pocket. "Call from Chad"

A warmth in his stomach rose; butterflies fluttered.

"(This is the second time he's called...)"

Jinsei picked up the phone.

"What happened."

"We have to go.

Now."

.

.

.

Going back to Chad, just as Solomon called him.

"Solomon, what happened?"

"Things aren't looking good. You know how Jinsei found the chip on the spike?"

Chad's breathing grew heavier.

"Yes."

"He was right."

"You're still in the hotel room, right?"

"Yeah, I'm invisible, the door's locked and the lights are off. I'm peeking out the window and you know the room you guys ordered from the hotel across the street?"

"Oh no."

"Yeah. I saw two men enter and immediately close the blinds. One of them's black and the other's white. The lights are on and judging by the faint silhouettes I can see through the blinds, they're making a mess out of the place. You guys need to come now this instant."

"I'll go tell Jinsei right now. You stay put, and just call me if anything else happens. We'll be there as soon as possible."

As Chad calls Jinsei and filled him in about the news, they both meet up near the entrance. Thankfully, Edward wasn't too far off and is eating a bowl of ramen at one of the ramen stations.

Breathing heavily, both Chad and Jinsei surround Edward.

"Did any of you two find anyone or anything worthwhile?" asks Jinsei.

Chad says "Sort of..."

Edward calmly says "No."

Jinsei groans.

"What about you Jinsei?"

"I have a lead and I got his contact number but we'll worry about that later.

Oh... god damn it. Edward, do you think you'd be able to catch up with us?"

"In terms of speed? Absolutely not. I just finished eating you kn-"

"Alright change of plans. Edward, you stay here and keep on finding new recruits. Chad, are you faster than the truck?"

"I am. but my main concern is if you're able to keep up."

Jinsei bit his thumb.

"No... but I have the endurance to reach it. Just go ahead and go you're fastest, I'll be right behind you, even if I'll be late by a bit."

"Alright, lets go."

The two of them jump onto the platform and rise back to Earth.

Edward simply raises his eyebrow.

"...whats up with them?"

He rubs his stomach, noticing the peppers were a bit much for him.

"Think I'm able to catch up to them... of course I can! Maybe don't ask that after I'm done eating. God. So annoying..."

Just as he turned around to ask for a drink menu, an androgynous looking person sat right next them. They had purple highlights and an eager smile.

"So... what's your name?"

"...

Huh?"