As Bamo snored, Akemi browsed through her upgrade options.

She could get Mind Paper from the rank three Shadow Auditor options, but that seemed like a waste. It was a utility skill she could pick up later. Right now, she needed something practical—something that could help her if she chose to go after Vokasha.

She explored her rank four options instead.

Rank 4 Shadow Auditor Skills Unlocked!

* (Requires Skill: Chloroform) Deadly Chloroform | Sometimes, a client remains a nuisance even after they’ve been put down for a nap. Better to just put them down entirely. Roll a Surprise Attack Die to see if you instantly kill a target below your level.

* (Requires Skills: Conjure Illusion; Craft Basic Spike Trap) Paper Puppet | Puppets are useful for more than just entertaining children. Sometimes they’re great at invoking perilous fear into the heart of an opposing attorney. Construct an illusory puppet out of a tangible material. Does not require a crafting table.

That first skill was absolutely tantalizing, but she could recognize a honey trap when she saw it; the skill description wasn’t specific about just how high her chance was of rolling that deadly surprise attack, so it could be anywhere from one hundred percent to zero point zero zero zero. Still, the chance wasn’t precisely zero—so it’s a skill she’d pick up eventually.

Then there was the second one. Paper Puppet. That one was less compelling, as it would once again require her to carry around a crafting material in order to construct the puppet, and her inventory was limited as it was. Of course, now she had Bamo—her personal small objects carrier—who was much taller, heavier, and as such had a larger inventory space. But constantly having to ask him to toss her crafting materials during the heat of battle sacrificed all semblance of surprise.

Of the two, she could see more reliable use of the first. Especially if she was to go low-level hero hunting. But in the immediate future, she did have some snake skin hanging around her inventory… and Ruie Vokasha was afraid of snakes.

It was something to consider.

Finally, just to round out her options, she took a look at Mindshaper.

Rank 1 Mindshaper Skills:

* Influence (Previously Bought)

* Brain Drain | For as long as a victim is Influenced, slowly drain their health.

Tutorial Tip! To access Rank 2 Mindshaper Skills, you can spend 1 SP or complete a relevant quest. Relevant quests are given out by guilds.

While Brain Drain was definitely compelling, it wasn’t as immediately useful as something like Deadly Chloroform. It was most useful on targets that you wanted to wear down first before you initiated combat, like a tank with a large amount of health points.

Akemi’s eyebrows lifted as she realized something.

That wasn’t all it was useful for.

—

Skill Acquired! Brain Drain

—

The fight took place far underground, in what seemed like an abandoned shoe factory. Akemi heard whispers that the more significant fights had better choice of venue—but since this was only the Bronze League Championship, it was a bit of a beggars can’t be choosers situation.

The line into the factory slithered for several blocks around night market shopping stalls and crumbling apartments. They bought corndogs with what was left of Akemi’s accountant salary and ate them as the crowd slowly inched inside, through massive steel doors into a place the size of an airplane hangar.

Stolen story; please report.

The stands were constructed mostly of metal boxes, and beat up shoes without soles or laces littered the outskirts of the makeshift stadium. The stage itself was small, no bigger than a WWE ring, and the seating surrounded it on all sides like a proper arena. Still digging into their corndogs, Akemi grabbed them seats as far toward the front as possible.

“You really want to sit here?” Bamo whispered to her as she got comfortable on one of the crates, the rigid metal digging into her thighs. “There’s a reason the front row seats are the vacant ones.”

The last of the spectators filtered inside, and the metal doors slammed closed. Stadium lights began to flicker on all around them, beaming toward the stage. Akemi could see that they weren’t true electric lights—but beams of sunlight being cast from runes.

“Of course I do,” she responded, tugging him down onto the crate next to her. “They’re the best seats in the house.”

And the closer I am to the stage, the better.

Two guys dressed in bright red robes with devil masks slung over their faces took the seats immediately next to them. They looked a mix between nervous and euphoric—so, probably on drugs—and to Akemi’s dismay, they immediately got friendly.

G. | ??? ???

F. | ??? ???

Huh? I’ve never seen someone’s stats so hidden. Even Pyre and Nocturne didn’t have this much obfuscation going on.

“Look, we’ve got fellow front-rowers!” one said excitedly to the other, leaning forward so Akemi was staring straight into the reflective, sweat-laden red of their mask. “Most of the people who come to these shows are afraid of getting a little gore on their shirts. Bunch of spineless losers. I treat these matches like fucking baseball games—if someone’s severed head gets tossed into the stands, I’m catching it.”

The one named F raised his hand in a fist bump toward Akemi. She stared at it coldly, waiting for him to get the message, but he did not; unable to withstand the social awkwardness, Bamo fistbumped him back.

“Hell yeah,” F said, undeterred. “Leave it to U’zaki to recruit a whole fucking bat to her fanbase. I didn’t even know you chimeras were into pit-fighting.”

“Well, as a species, we aren’t,” Bamo said dryly. “But I find it quite pleasurable to listen to.”

“You like listening to people get their shit rocked? That’s hardcore, man.”

A horn sounded out from the stage, and Akemi had never felt so grateful for an interruption.

At the center of the stage stood a referee, a bullhorn pressed to his mouth. With the attention of the crowd secured, he began to fade into the background as the stadium lights shifted focus onto two approaching competitors.

The stage shuddered as two red boots pierced through the flimsy canvas. The stagelight painted a halo around a female figure clad in a vibrant red bodysuit, a pair of matching, crimson red gloves floating languidly by her side. A devil mask rested on the side of her face, while her blonde hair was swept up into a high ponytail. As she turned to face the audience, Akemi found herself staring once again at the glowing, grimacing visage of Naba U'zaki.

Her seatmates absolutely lost it.

“Destroy him, U’zaki!”

“Get his ass!”

“Oh, calm the fuck down,” Naba said, rolling her eyes. “We haven’t even started yet.”

“She’s so cool,” F said, turning to Akemi. “I wouldn’t mind if she killed me. It’d be worth it.”

Akemi didn’t acknowledge that.

The audience went quiet as another body entered the ring. A man, lean but incredibly muscular, emerged from the shadows. He entered the stage with a calm serenity, brushing his jet black hair back over his temple and highlighting the white blindfold wrapped around his eyes.

He limped slightly on his right knee, but not in a way that sacrificed any of his confidence; if Toto hadn’t told Akemi about it, she probably wouldn’t have noticed.

Ruie Vokasha | Level 12 Blind Seer / Pit Fighter

A Blind Seer? She hadn’t seen that class name before.

But why is this guy my target? What beef could Nocturne possibly have with a level 12 nobody?

The ref shouted into his horn again.

“Contestants, please come to the middle.”

Naba sauntered towards Ruie with a bored expression, her eyes scanning him with a disinterested gaze. She offered no gesture of respect, her demeanor exuding apathy rather than aggression. Ruie mirrored her lack of composure, crossing his arms and sighing.

“Hm. You look exhausted as always,” he remarked, then gestured casually at her face. “The under eye bags. The burn stains running up your arms. Those must be casualties from all that boiling oil you swim in everyday. The pit-fighting waitress, what a depressing gimmick.”

Naba’s nostrils flared. “You’re going to eat those words, rich boy. Are you ready to play fair this time, or are you going to keep relying on daddy’s talents?”

“Fair?” Ruie responded, raising an eyebrow. “This is a pit fight, not a heroic jousting match. What kind of decorum are you expecting?”

Naba raised her hands to cover her face. “From you? None.”

Ruie laughed coldly, and raised his white gloves to mirror her position.

The ref tossed his horn aside, and blew his whistle.

“Let the annual Bronze League Championship match, begin!”