I am dragged by Porar to the waiting room. He is fuming.

“What the hell? Do you want to piss people off? Explain youself!” I am confounded.

“I don’t know, did I do something wrong?” Porar grabs the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes before opening them again, maintaining straight eye contact.

“That battle, imagine yourself being a spectator. What did you see?” Let me think. Oh. I think I get it.

“It was way too obvious, huh?” My immediate defeat of him, couple with the fact I did so with room to spare, as I used a fist and not a sword pretty much informed everyone that “This whole thing is fake”.

“Shit”. Porar mumbles. “This pretty much sinks your career right here and now.”

“Huh? Why?” That’s not good.

“People are going to think you rigged your match or something, and that sticks with you, no matter how much time passes. In other words, if you become a large name, you will not draw any crowds, unless….”

“Unless what?”

“Well. It is an interesting technique to draw people in… But it will make your life hell… Are you ready to make that sacrifice?”

“Stop talking around the issue, what is it?”

“We deliberately make you act like a villain, a coward and a dirty player.”

“Huh? How will that work?”

“Simple. We make you act as despicable as we can in the practiced part of the fight. Kicking or throwing sand, throwing your weapon, running away, planting traps, that sort of thing. People will come to loathe you, that they will show up, not to see you, but see you get beaten.”

“And it will make my life hell?”

“Of course. People will think you are the same lying, cheating scumbag whether you are inside or outside of the circle. You will probably never be able to live a normal life again, at least not in the capital.”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Well, once I have informed Ahorn of my findings, I am probably out here anyway.

“That’s fine, I accept.”

And so, another match is scheduled for me. The choreography this time is very different, but it is diligently practiced anyway. I basically practice the fight choreography a third of the day, and regular training the other two thirds. Four days pass, before a now familiar face comes to bother me.

“Hey, boy!” It’s Spetus.

“Hey, Spetus, what’s up?”

“I thought about, and I really want to know what your gift is. What do you say, I will show you mine, then you show me yours!” It’s tempting. I have also been curious about Spetus’ gift since the beginning. I should be so superhuman, that I had a hard time understanding how he could shake me off like I wasn’t much. In addition to that, he actually hurt me with a mere punch. I was sure I had toughened up considerably after two years in the labyrinth of Berliso, while being killed every single day.

“Fine, but you go first.”

“YES! Alright, stand up!” I do so, but I wonder why.

“I am not very good at explaining. But I think the best way is showing it. You’re really strong, yeah? Well here, grab my hands!” He holds his two arms forward.

“Now, try to push me” And so I do, using all of my strength I try to push him. But it is insane. He moves, but it is slow and feels like I am incredibly heavy.

“And now, the other way!” He says. And then, he pushes me. I feel a much greater force bearing down upon me than what I had expected from him.

“Weight?” I ask. Maybe that’s it. Becoming incredibly heavy as he needs to.

“Hmmm, no not really. It’s more like… Movability. Stuff is easier for me to move, and I have a harder time being moved. Like, I think without my gift, punches would hit me harder and mine lighter, just by how much force is upon the things we hit.” I don’t really understand his world salad, but I get the gist of it. Any force he exerts is multiplied. Any force on him is divided. That’s one hell of a cheat code. Though that is rich, coming from me.

“And you, boy! What is your gift?”

I take a little bit of a breath while wondering how much I should divulge. I decide to tell everything but the immortality, since he was so forthcoming to me.

“But why are you so strong then?” He seems puzzled.

“I just told you both my exhaustion and my tiredness gets cured. I can train all day, every day” I try to get him to accept it as just that. “And I have been doing so since I was a kid!”

“Hmmmm.” He seems to think. “All right, but how will you show me? Can I cut an arm off?”

“What the hell, man? That’s a little bit extreme, don’t you think?”

“But I think you should show me.” Yikes, this guy is pretty insane, huh?

“There’s no one who is going to agree to have their arm cut off, just because it comes back” I try to back out. But after he piles more and more pressure on me, I eventually promise to do it “later”. God, I hope “later” never comes.

The time until my next fight in the circle passes mostly eventless. I am ready to be one hell of a bad guy, but at the same time, I feel a little vexed. At least I won’t be a criminal, right?

The portcullis open, and my first day as a villain begins, as I step out into the arena.