Straf walks through the empty hallways, hands in his pockets. His footsteps echo ominously. He reads a wooden sign mounted onto the wall in front of him.
「So fighters are supposed to go here, huh? I bet tomorrow, someone is going to try and fight me here. Or threaten me into quitting. Heh, that's gonna be funny.」
Straf follows the signage with an amused grin on his face, passing a few doorways to private booths. He arrives to the fighters' entrance, and a man walks up to him.
「You're one of the contestants, right? What's your name?」
「Straf.」
「Right. Head that way, walk into the arena about quarter way in. Wait for the gong before you start, or you'll be disqualified. The fight ends immediately after-」
「Yeah, yeah, yeah. Can I go kick that guy's shit in yet?」
Straf waves his hand dismissively at the man.
「Fine. At least provide a good show.」
「Oh, you bet I will.」
Straf smirks at the annoyed man and walks off in the direction he pointed at, down the turning corridor. Straf follows his directions, he exits the corridor into the open arena, still stained with blood from the last fight. He walks about a quarter of the way to the opposite end, and stops. He lifts his arms and wiggles his fingers, beckoning the audience to give him a cheer.
Cycelia claps a little, but stops when she gets self-conscious about being the only person doing so. His pompous effort fails to get any other reaction from the rest of the audience.
「Ladies and gentlemen! Welcome our fighter, Straf Katastrof Vindict! Hard to forget someone with a long name like that, but he has no accomplishment preceding him! Another new face!」
The announcer points his palm at Straf from above as he introduces him.
「Tsk. No reaction? Well, whatever.」
Straf notices a young man enter the arena from the corridor on the other side. Definitely not any older than 18, he stares at Straf with a nervous expression similar to the deceitful contestant from the last fight, but there is also a look of determination in his eyes.
「And his opponent is… Louche Rubylight! We know about him as much as you do! Unlike the last bout, this one features both contestants unknown to us!」
The announcer points his palm to Straf's opponent.
「Anything goes in this match! Contestant Louche looks like a fish out of the water, while contestant Straf seems to look quite comfortable standing where he is!」
「Please lose.」
Straf's opponent says to him as he draws his sword.
「Huh? As if, chump. I'm going to raise the stakes using your ass.」
Straf draws his sword as well, grinning in amusement.
「Please lose! I need to win at least two bets for the sake of my sister!」
The boy shouts at Straf with desperation in his voice.
「Huh? I'm not throwing a match so you can bang your-」
「The bets are closing momentarily! Combatants, prepare yourselves! Ready…」
The announcer interrupts Straf, talking over him. Just like last match he raises both of his arms, and pauses.
「Please, lose! I spent all my money on renting this sword and bet all my savings on this match! I need to save my sister!」
「I guess gambling is the state-sponsored control tool here, huh? What's this about your sister-」
「Begin!」
Gonnnnnngggggggg…
The announcer throws his arms down, Straf's opponent charges in. Straf stands in place, holding his rented sword low and his other hand in his pocket. The boy gets within striking distance of Straf, and he throws a wild swing at him.
「Hyyyyyyaaaah!」
He screams as he slashes the thin air. Straf easily steps out of the way, sending his enemy stumbling behind him. Straf notes a peculiar feeling, or rather, its absence.
「Hahaha! Wow! You're pretty bad!」
Louche turns around and tries to slash Straf apart with a vertical swing again, Straf casually pirouettes out of the way of the sword, sending his opponent sprawling. The crowd jeers.
「Haha! No [Contextual Time Perception]! You're that weak!」
Straf laughs at his opponent, the boy finally recovers and charges at Straf again. He throws a wild horizontal slash.
Clanggg!
Straf moves his sword in the way, not even truly blocking in the sense of the word. The boy's sword bounces off Straf's, and he stumbles backwards. As soon as he recovers, he once again slashes without any rhythm or rhyme at Straf.
Clink! Clank! Clang!
Straf blocks all the attacks with a derisive grin on his face. The boy is panting heavily, trying to catch his breath.
「So, what was this about your sister?」
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Straf nonchalantly asks with his hand in his pocket.
「She's sick and needs medicine! This is the only chance for me to get enough money to afford enough of it to last her a while! If I lose, she's going to die!」
「Huh? And you bet all your money on this match, her life, even, to feed your gambling addiction? Man, you guys are in trouble if someone ever comes up with tulip futures certificates.」
《Maybe it should be me, heh.》
「Ladies and gentlemen, it looks like contestant Louche isn't doing so well! Can he still turn the fight around, or will contestant Straf continue to toy with him!?」
The announcer lifts his arms up at the audience, once again personally addressing them.
「Get on with it! Fucking kill the kid!」
A gruff voice demands blood from behind Cycelia. She peeks over her shoulder with furrowed brows.
「Stop playing around already!」
「Man, I bet on the wrong fucking guy…」
More people shout, the man sitting nearby Cycelia grumbles with his arms crossed.
《Nnnhh… I want to cheer on Straf, but I don't want to be one of the people piling up on that poor man. It's hard enough as it is to sign yourself up for this…》
Her shoulders slump as she watches the hopeless young man struggle against Straf's zero-effort defense. Though tired, the boy continues his underwhelming onslaught. Sparks fly as Straf and Louche cross and lock their blades.
Crrrkkkk!
《There it is. Almost thought it wouldn't happen.》
Straf thinks as he looks at the flying sparks. He looks at his opponent clenching his teeth, trying to push through.
「It's. Not. Gambling! Grghh… Please, just lose!」
「That's what they all say. So, you have a sick sister, and she'll die without medicine…」
「Yes! Please, have some humanity!」
Straf pulls his hand out of his pocket and rubs his chin, paying no mind to the man trying to injure or kill him.
《Hmmm… If I win, that's going to be a classic trope gone. But if I lose, I'll miss out on the tournament arc. Kind of.》
Straf thinks, then looks back at his enemy.
「By the way, you're not supposed to push your sword against someone else, or else this might happen.」
Straf steps out of the way a little while giving way, and trips the boy with his foot. Louche is sent flying forward, landing face-first in the sand. The spectators burst out laughing and clap a little.
《This is kind of sad…》
Cycelia thinks, as she sees the young boy spit out dirt on all-fours. He stands up.
「Is your sister bed-bound, or in a wheelchair?」
Straf shouts a question at the opponent in front of him.
「She can't walk without assistance!」
「Nice. Does she cough a lot?」
「Yes! She coughs up blood when she doesn't get her medicine in time!」
「Nice. Does she have trouble seeing?」
「When her fever gets bad, she can barely see what's in front of her!」
「Let me guess, you're orphans?」
「Yes! Please, let me win! For her sake!」
「Nice! How do I know for sure you're not just trying to scam me, though? How do I know she doesn't exist just in your head, and I'm not talking it being some sort of plot twist?」
「I have no proof, but I wouldn't lie about something like this!」
「Ladies and gentlemen, it seems like our combatants are more preoccupied with talking instead of fighting! Contestants, I must remind you that you are here to fight! Leave friendly dialogue for later, provided one of you survives the battle!」
The boy shouts back, and the spectators get more and more agitated that the fight paused. Straf puts his hand back in his pocket, looking up and to the side as he thinks.
《Well, this guy and his sister is a walking- Bedridden trope. That's if she exists. Honestly, the laws of this world are on my side on this, but it's entirely possible he just wants to scam me.》
Straf turns his gaze to Louche, and starts walking towards him. His hands start to shake as Straf draws near. Straf leisurely gets within striking distance of the boy, and raises his sword. Cycelia covers her eyes, but still peeks at the arena through her fingers.
The boy blocks, holding his sword horizontally above his head. Straf swings his arm down at him. He slows his sword just before impact, and allows it to fall onto the boy's sword with only the force of gravity behind it.
Clang!