image [https://cdn.midjourney.com/debca029-a0e6-4e2a-a110-5388a2b050de/0_0.png]
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Saturday was all about relaxing. Peter didn't even look at his stats or free points. He slept late, made breakfast for Regina, walked the pet together, and ate lunch in town, in their first date's restaurant. In the afternoon, they escorted Regina's parents to Lebanon, and the airport, where they had chartered a flight. Money was no longer a problem. He made a detour to the main lawn to register for the tournament, and then the evening was all about cuddling and making love, Shredder being in Ariana's care.
The System disappeared for the day, returning Sunday morning. Regina was out for a haircut.
Peter opened his stats screen, investing ten points into Constitution and eight into Concentration. The first was now into the Journeyman tier, making him tougher, while the latter contributed both to damage and lower Mana's cost, both more and more important.
Peter Hillden, age: 22, Class: Impulse, Lvl. 67
Strength: 100 / Dexterity: 100 / Constitution: 61
Intelligence: 46 / Will: 48 / Concentration: 55
Charisma: 57 / Luck: variable / Magic Power: 58 (+10)
"Dramatic pause, huh? OK, what have you figured out?" Peter stretched, sighing inside. In truth, he wanted to be left alone. He was reading a book in front of the opened window when the System had reappeared. Regina's apartment had much better views than his.
"But it must work in combat… I wouldn't be alive, if not."
<—and nothing else. But where it truly shines is taking risks with people. Think about it. Regina, her father, Ariana and Naomi, Redroar, Daniel, your doppelganger, Jack… Even that girl, Cobra.>
"What can I say, I'm a people's person… I took a risk with you too, didn't I?"
Your Magic power is increased: 63 (+15).
"Hey, what do you know? We're friends."
"Say… What are your plans if we win?"
"Taking control of the Tower."
"Let me rephrase. What would happen to the Cultivators and the Wild Mages if you took control of the Tower?"
"Nothing. I mean... I’d get rid of the Gestapo and the bad Cultivators. But if the decent ones, like Melinda, want to stay, they should be allowed."
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In the late of the night, a soft knock on the door woke up Peter and made Regina groan in her sleep. There was a note under the door and a message on his phone. The first was from his doppelganger. It said:
‘Identified required persons. Preparing accordingly. To soon to act now. Update on the story. The youngest kid in the doppelganger family on Floor One survived, the wound intentionally shallow. Adopted by relatives.’
A bitter joy washed over Peter's heart. The SMS was from the College:
‘Your application has been accepted. Present yourself tomorrow at 3 PM at the obelisk. The competitors will be divided into qualificatory brackets of 256 individuals each, who will compete in a one-minute round of eliminatory matches, with a one-minute break in between.
‘Rules: Wild Magic Users and Body Cultivators will compete in the same Brackets. No active skill is to be used. Spirit and Mind Cultivators (if at least rank three) will compete together. No physical skills are to be used. The winners of the brackets will go on to the second stage of the competition, where they'll fight against themselves and more seasoned opponents.’
But the most interesting thing was the notification he got from the news, a push from the System.
'An anonymous Bounty Hunter named Impulse was offered a Wild card to enter the Arena Tournament, directly into the second stage. Sources from the High Council revealed that the named Impulse will be absolved of all previous offenses as long it answers the summons.'
I should hurry to kill more bad guys until the competition starts, then, Peter giggled on the inside. Sleep came hard to him, because of the excitement.
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At 3 PM precisely, Peter was in front of the obelisk. Only two other persons from his Campus were there, Jack and Kostel.
"What are you doing here?" Peter gasped.
"Competing," of course, Jack frowned. "I'm on the verge of a breakthrough. If I get to stage four during the competition, I'll use that golden pill from Grandmaster Li to get to stage five."
"I meant him," Peter pointed at Kostel, who was whistling a merry melody, looking up in the air, hands in pockets.
"I did a bit of wrestling before," Kostel shrugged, his eyes following a sparrow while taking a deep breath to suck in the smoke of his cigarette.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
"Participants are required to touch the obelisk!" a qi-voice said.
"Don't let them hit you," Jack said to Peter. "You're fast, use your footwork."
After he touched the obelisk, Peter found himself in a locker room, together with hundreds of other candidates. It was obvious why he was here. He undressed, keeping only boxing shorts and a T-shirt. Jack did the same, but Kostel opted for a pajama with printed bunnies.
After they put their things inside the locker, they were transported inside a giant stadium, each in a different boxing ring. Rows of other similar enclosures were everywhere around. In the opposite corner of Peter's ring was a girl, as tall as him, muscular, with mean eyes. She was frowning and growling at him.
"The matches begin in three… two… one… Start!"
The girl rushed at Peter, yelling insults. Bad ones. His mother and horses were suggested to have intercourse. Peter was so horrified he almost got punched in the nose, ducking at the last moment. From then on, he waved his hands in the air, mimicking what he imagined was a boxing technique, jumping all around her.
His dexterity perk was very good at throwing the girl out of balance, and her kicks and jabs often missed their target. For every hit she got in, he got two. A minute later, the voice told them he won by points and was required to move to the ring to his right within a minute. The girl was teleported out, not before screaming other insults.
The next opponent was a massive man, looking older than the average student. Blue sparks of electricity were running over his skin, and Peter guessed it was a passive.
"Start," the voice announced. The Cultivator walked slowly toward the center of the ring. There was no way to use the same tactic as before. Moving fast, Peter took a step forward and executed a cross to the man's chin. It connected, but an electric bolt hit him too, throwing him to the floor. Before he had the chance to get up, the voice announced he had won the match by knock-out.
How on Earth? Peter wondered. His adversary was still standing.
Squeezing his eyes, Peter did as asked. Around the man's neck and twisted head was a forcefield, all but invisible if one didn't pay attention. The adversary was heaving.
But I barely put some force behind it…
"Your next opponent has forfeited due to a broken arm. Wait in place until other matches finish," the voice said.
All for the better, I could use a break… Look, both my Constitution and Magical Power have buffs. How so?
After the next series of matches ended, it took more than a minute to get to the next ring. There were lots of people moving around, and many were wounded. Jack was still in the fight, Peter noticed, but to his surprise, so was Kostel. The guard looked happy. To Peter's joy, he wasn't pitted against either.
The next adversary was a girl. Pretty, blonde, looking quite a lot like Regina, but shorter, more sporty, and less sexy, she looked happy to be in a fight and enjoying it like a day at a beach. She was so fast that Peter was barely having time to avoid her hits and throw in his punches. He was considering hitting harder, albeit he was still distrustful of the wards, when she ducked under his guard to land a punch in his stomach, and he threw a knee to the face by instinct, dazing her and making her fall to the floor, surrounded by a protection field.
"Fuck… I was too greedy," she complained when they were told he won by knockout.
"Yeah… my luck. Was fun," he offered her a hand to get up.
"See ya," she said a second before getting teleported out.
Do you think she's Regina from Two?
The next round was also later because there were prizes announced for the ones still in the fight. One ounce of gold each. Peanuts, for Peter, but he pretended to cheer.
The next fight was more balanced, as the young man in front of him was an all-rounder fighter. He looked barely eighteen, if that, but fought with care, throwing kicks and fists only when there was a good opportunity, staying calm despite Peter's feints.
The fight ended with Peter's victory at points. He was stronger and faster, but he did learn things from that fight and bowed to his adversary. Only eight people were in the game now. Jack and Kostel were hanging on, the latter grimacing and rubbing his chin. Two more ounces of gold were won.
Again, none of them were made to fight each other, which was probably by design. Peter felt thankful. It was a good decision. He was set against a brute. Mean look, broken nose, ears like a cauliflower.
I can hit hard too.
This time, Peter didn't try to restrain his power. As soon they were in range, he soaked a jab to the jaw and sent an uppercut in the same spot. Both landed simultaneously. Peter fell on a knee, his head throbbing, but the opponent was thrown into the ropes and the knock-out announcement came immediately.
"You little fucker!" the adversary screamed, making a gesture to jump at Peter, but being transported away.
Jack was out, and Peter was set to fight the one who had won against his friend. His torso was naked, and the young man was full of bruises.
It was a good strategy. Simple, effective, and the man was a mess already. Finally, eight ounces of gold richer, Peter entered the finals of the bracket.
"The surprise of the day is a final between two Wild Magic users that have overcome every Cultivator they faced: Peter Hillden and Kostel Dragu." The qi-voice was followed by a row of applauses from the tribunes.
What the fuck! Peter gasped when Kostel waved and smiled at him.
Sorry, Kostel, I won't go easy on you!
Both contenders were asked to go to a central ring, while the others disappeared, to allow a better view. Cameras, some on drones, appeared all around.
"Begin in three… two… one… Start!"
Deciding to finish it quickly, Peter approached the middle of the ring. In his corner, Kostel looked apprehensive to advance.
"Come," Peter beckoned.
Kostel shook his head. Then, gathering his courage, he took a timid step forward, before gasping and tripping.
Got you, sucker!
Rushing forward, Peter pulled his elbow back for a cross, strong enough to end the fight in one hit. In the next second, he twirled in the air like a doll, then hit the floor, and then something blocked his view. A fabric. A pajama.
"Heeelp!" Peter yelped aloud.
Kostel's ass was on his face, and over his eyes, his nose and mouth were body parts Peter didn't even want to think about. Not far away from his head were the guard's shoeless feet, and they didn't smell of roses. Somehow, Kostel was blocking Peter's elbows with his body, thus Peter's arms, and one of his legs with his head, and the other with his hands, trying to twist it.
Peter's strength was high enough to resist that, but for the rest, he was immobilized. And all that while Kostel's privates were going all over his face. Peter retched and wished to Warp out.
The announcement came soon. "Winning by technical knock out, Kostel Dragu, former Moldovan Olympic champion in free wrestling."
Loud cheers erupted in the public. Peter didn't even care he lost, he was happy to be free, rubbing his face with his shirt, traumatized and on the verge of crying. A cultivator came down flying to raise Kostel's hand and present him with a medal. A minute later, they were back on campus.
"Congrats, Kostel!" Jack yelled.
Peter sulked. Kostel slapped his back. "I'll tell you the secret of how to get out of holds," the guard tried to cheer him up. "Next time you see balls in front of your face, you bite. That's what professionals do. No one notices."
I want to vomit…
"Ah, my next match has been already scheduled," Kostel said, looking at his phone. "The day after tomorrow. I'm supposed to fight against a guy called Impulse? What kind of name is that?"