The spear flew faster than my eyes could follow, producing a deafening rumble as it tore through the air. It was so loud that if someone had closed their eyes, they might have mistaken it for the roar of a rocket engine. The weapon crossed the distance almost instantly, drilling a head-sized hole through his chest before I even noticed the spear leave his opponent's hand.

[Good thing he's going to the next stage after this fight] I thought, glancing at the ticket in my left hand. It wouldn't be too long until it was my turn down there. The arena was eerily quiet until after the spearman disappeared in a flash of light when everyone collectively let out a sigh of relief at not having to face such a terrifying opponent. The next person called to the arena was clearly a modern type. Decked out in full SWAT gear and carrying a military-issue assault rifle, they moved with a unique blend of caution and efficiency. [They look like some sort of soldier, probably special forces with the way they're moving.] Through their confident posture and well-trained movements, it was obvious they were incredibly dangerous.

Their opponent was a stark contrast, clad only in animal skins and bone ornaments. The simple attire did nothing to diminish the danger he exuded in the slightest. He was giant, easily over three meters tall and probably weighing over eight times that of his opponent, almost all of it muscle.

As soon as the horn blew, the Goliath began his charge, moving at speeds far faster than I thought possible for a man of his size. The soldier wasn't startled in the slightest. They quickly aimed their rifle, unleashing a torrent of hot lead toward the giant's unprotected vitals, all while dashing to the left in an attempt to kill the momentum of their opponent's charge. The bullets hit their target with a series of dull thuds as if the soldier had shot a hearty oak rather than a person. It was then that the giant began to gallop on all fours, causing his speed to jump from that of the best Olympic sprinter to that of a racehorse. [Fuck, he is 100% a supernatural type, and with how he's shrugging off those bullets a strong one too] I thought.

BANG!

Focusing back on the match, I saw that the soldier had used a flashbang grenade to allow them the opportunity to dodge the devastating charge. However, it wasn't enough, as they were still well within reach. The giant firmly grasped them by the arm, and like swinging a sledgehammer, he lifted the soldier far above his head. With superhuman strength and speed, he swung the soldier into the hard stone of the arena floor. The Soldier's head popped exactly like a watermelon thrown from a 10-story building into the gentle embrace of the pavement. After a quiet couple of seconds, what was left of the soldier turned to soft black ash that was quickly blown away by the wind. The only evidence remaining of the soldier's existence was the small bruises on the giant's chest.

Flash!

Glancing to my right, a gout of golden flame erupted. After a few seconds when the flames subsided, a figure appeared, and it took me only a moment to recognize the soldier who had just been in the arena. They seemed to be in a state of shock, moving their hands around their helmeted head as if to make sure it was still there.

"Don't worry, you don't actually die until your third time," I said.

The soldier looked in my direction, finally seeming to recollect themselves. They took a deep breath and sat in the empty seat to my right.

"How do you know that?" she asked in a rather cold yet undeniably feminine voice

Glancing back at her, I gestured at her seat as I replied, "The guy who used to sit in that seat you're in right now had his third match not even five minutes ago—against that spear guy, right before your bout."

"…Is this hell?"

I chuckled, shaking my head. "Hahaha, not exactly sure myself. We've probably been here about the same amount of time. I haven't even had my first fight yet."

After that, we sat in silence for a good five minutes. She seemed like the quiet type, but the nerves got to her. Thinking that I might have some information that could prove useful, she decided to try and start a conversation again.

Glancing at my clothes, she asked, "You from Earth?"

"No," I replied, "but judging by your gear and general demeanor, where I'm from is probably very similar to where you were."

"Hm, so what did you do for work?" she asked.

"This and that, mostly contract stuff. You?"

"Special Forces," she said, her voice steady. "So, how long have you been here?"

"Long enough to know the rules," I said with a wry smile. "Lucky for me the guy who used to be in your seat had been here for a while and was quite a talkative fellow."

"Anything important I should know?"

"Three strikes and you're out, three wins you graduate. If you die, you regenerate all your wounds, stamina and gear. If you win, you have to stay in the arena and don't get any of those benefits. Other than that, nothing really. I guess you don't have to eat or drink if you're in the stands, but you probably already figured that one out."

She nodded. "Got it. Seems straightforward. You have baseball where you're from?"

"Baseball?"

"...Never mind," she muttered.

"..."

"..."

"Oh, look, that guy you just fought is having his second match."

The giant's opponent looked like a typical gladiator out of a four-decades-old "historical" action movie. As the battle started, she spoke up again, her voice edged with disbelief.

"What the hell is with this guy? He can move as fast as a car and shrug off bullets like he's Superman or something?"

"Superman? How many matches have you been here for exactly?"

"Four, why?" she replied, her brow furrowing.

"Haha. Man, you're so unlucky. Since you already went, I thought you'd been here as long as I have. To re-answer an earlier question, I've been here for about 140-something fights, and according to the guy who used to be in your seat, around 150 is the typical time you have to wait for a match."

"Fuck." She looked at me, incredulous. "Really, that's a long time?"

"Yeah, but you get used to it. It's just part of the game."

"Part of the game?" she echoed, confusion evident in her voice.

"Yeah, observation. Why else would we be able to watch the matches? To learn about the types of fighters and strategies we might face. It’s like studying before an exam. Might also be to make it harder for a person to win fights consecutively. As you can imagine, knowing your opponent's skills and possible weaknesses might just make the fight a lot easier."

Our attention was drawn back to the match as the giant smashed his new opponent in almost the exact same fashion as he did to her.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

"Although notable exceptions do exist, like our friend down there. Supernaturals as powerful as he is typically go undefeated."

"Super-?" she began, confusion evident in her tone.

"Naturals, yes," I explained. "Supernatural is one of the categories I personally use to denote people who possess abilities beyond the natural limits of the human body."

"And how many of these 'Supernaturals' have you seen?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.

"Quite a few," I replied, leaning back in my chair. "63. Most aren't as strong as our friend Goliath down there, but the variety of powers makes them a nightmare to fight against. There are only two categories that have a good chance of defeating one. The first being of course other Supernaturals only the group with a reasonable chance are people with modern weapons like yourself."

"That’s... a lot."

"Yeah," I said, nodding. "They come in all sorts of flavours. Some are like that giant out there just brute strength and speed. Others have more subtle abilities, like enhanced senses or rapid healing. And some have powers so bizarre even after they won all their fights I'm not quite sure how they work "

She looked thoughtful for a moment, absorbing the information. "So, what about the rest? The ones who aren't 'Supernaturals'?"

"Well, they're your typical humans but with exceptional skills. Think of elite soldiers, master martial artists, and the like. They typically rely on their training, skill, and experience."

The Giant's last fight went exactly as you'd expect it to go, allowing him to go to the next stage undefeated.

"Oh, I never got your name. My name is Vaughn," I said, extending a hand.

"Amanda," she said, completing the handshake.

It was at that moment that my ticket's number flashed, indicating that I only had a few seconds before I was summoned.

I spoke as I disappeared. "Well, it was nice to meet you, Amanda. I'll see you later, wherever we go after we win three matches. Bye,"

***

The stone room was vast, filled with an incredible assortment of weapons—literally every real-life weapon or armour I had ever seen was there. The walls were lined with racks holding everything from medieval broadswords to modern-day firearms, each meticulously maintained and ready for use.

I walked over and picked up a weapon that's typically not very useful: a spiral dagger. The twisted blade could make a devastating puncture wound, but it was almost completely useless for slashing, making it much worse than a typical dagger in most situations. But in my hands, it could really show its full potential. I could see the excellent craftsmanship of the weapon by the way the light glinted off its spiral edges.

Next, I picked up a razor-sharp dagger, so sharp that if you were to drop a piece of paper on it, it would cut through with just the paper's weight alone. The blade was slender, and deadly, with a polished sheen that reflected my calm expression. I grabbed a backup dagger that was a perfect copy of the second one, ensuring I had a spare if needed. Finally, I picked up a pistol. The cold metal felt reassuring in my grip. [Just in case,] I thought, sliding it into the holster at my side.

When I decided I was finished acquiring my gear, I heard a voice in my head, smooth and almost mechanical.

"Preferred starting distance?"

"5 to 10 meters," I spoke aloud, my voice echoing slightly in the vast chamber.

"Understood."

***

I only had to wait about half a minute after that until the ash-covered stone of the arena floor greeted my shoes. The spiral dagger was gripped tightly in my right hand, the razor-sharp blade in my left. My opponent stood just 5 meters away, a swordsman who seemed just as eager to start off close. His sword was outstretched and ready as he moved to close the distance. But as he made his first step, he stumbled and fell to the ground, blood oozing from the gaping hole in his neck.

"You're a Supernatural?" Amanda might have exclaimed, had she been present. The answer to that question would be yes. A few years before this point, I had stumbled into acquiring supernatural abilities but that's a story for another time.

My supernatural ability was a double-edged sword. It gave me an unparalleled advantage in combat, as it allowed me to hit anything within 10 meters, even if my target was behind a wall. Pretty strong, huh? Yeah well at least where I come from, whenever you gain supernatural abilities, there's always some sort of weakness or cost associated with it. Mine caused any form of armour or shielding to just not work. Even if I had a meter of tempered steel between me and my opponent, as long as their weapon was longer than a meter, they would be able to stab through the steel and hit me as if it were nothing but air.

Luckily, using my ability to attack their weapon allowed me to deflect and block attacks. Otherwise, the only form of defence I had was dodging.

The blood pooled around my opponent's lifeless body, dark and thick on the ashen floor. I remained calm, my expression betraying none of the adrenaline coursing through my veins. I could feel the eyes of the spectators on me, their shock and curiosity palpable.

Facing an archer in my next match, I could tell they didn't fully grasp how my ability worked. Still, they understood that I could kill from a distance. Correctly assuming I had a range limit, they opted to start as far away from me as possible. As soon as the whistle blew, I dropped my spiral dagger and drew my pistol, aiming at my opponent who had already loosed an arrow. My eyes tracked the arrow as it sailed through the air, closing in on me with lethal intent. When the arrow entered my range, I used my ability to deflect it with the side of the dagger. The arrow veered off course, missing me by a few meters embedding itself harmlessly in the ground. In the same instant, I squeezed the trigger of my pistol, firing three shots in quick succession.

The bullets travelled the distance in a heartbeat, finding their mark with unerring precision. The archer staggered a look of shock frozen on their face as they collapsed to the ground. The crowd's roar was a distant echo as I holstered my pistol, my heart pounding with the adrenaline of victory.

As the figure of my third opponent materialized, a cold chill crawled up my spine.

[You’ve got to be kidding me.]

My last opponent I had seen fight before, which would normally be a good thing. The problem was, he was a supernatural and a strong one at that. He had two easy wins, and I had fully expected him to go undefeated. That was until, in his third match, he ran into the strongest supernatural I had ever seen. Despite that, my current opponent did not go down easily in that fight. His body was made entirely out of some type of lusterless metal, which, from what I had seen, was significantly more robust than any existing alloy. Although my ability could bypass any form of shield or armor, if my opponent's flesh, bone, and organs were all made out of metal, my ability would be effectively useless.

The metallic figure stood across from me, his expression as unyielding as his body. The arena's atmosphere felt heavy, the weight of the silent crowd's anticipation pressing down on me. Every instinct screamed at me to act, to fight, but logic quickly overpowered those impulses.

"I resign," I declared, my voice steady but filled with resignation.

The crowd erupted in murmurs and shouts of confusion. The metallic man raised an eyebrow, a flicker of curiosity crossing his otherwise stoic face.

Appearing back in my seat, I let out an exasperated sigh. [If his vital organs are not made out of that metal, then I could have destroyed his brain or heart, but that is too much of a gamble.]

"I'll see you wherever we go after we win three matches, huh?"

I slowly turned to Amanda. "Haha, well about that... It was a bad matchup."

"Mhrm. Why didn't you tell me you could resign?"

Resting my head in my left hand, I dismissively waved my right. "It's not useful for you, so I forgot to mention it. Resigning counts as a death, and since you don't have any Supernatural abilities to hide, it's not very useful for you."

"So, Mr. Supernatural, would you happen to know how someone could acquire such fantastical abilities?"

Scratching the back of my head, I replied, "Kinda. Back in my world, it was just a thing that happened sometimes, but even with modern science and medicine, it wasn't very well understood. Typically though, they are awakened through some sort of... uh, 'intense emotion,' but other than that, can’t say much."

"...That doesn’t happen where I'm from," she stated, taking a moment of consideration before asking, "Do you think that I'll be able to acquire supernatural abilities here?"

I just shrugged. "No clue. But I'd say it's not a zero percent chance."

We continued to get to know each other, as we observed the next hundred or so matches. Apparently, her world, 'Earth', had no form of supernatural abilities or magic; the concept existed only in stories and fairy tales. Instead, they were more technologically advanced than anyone I've met so far, being about a full decade ahead of my world.

I was also able to learn more about the woman herself. She is the only daughter of a prominent military family from the strongest country on 'Earth'. Which seems to perfectly explain her rather rigid and professional body language. She also seemed to have the peculiar habit of always wearing her full-face helmet, as she had not taken it off even once during our conversation. We spoke until her ticket started to glow.

"Guess it's time," she said.

"Good luck."

She gave me a thumbs-up, and though I couldn't see her face, I could tell from the tone of her voice that she was smiling. "See you wherever we go after we win three matches."

"Sure just don't get your head exploded this time."