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Peter’s next matches were scheduled for Friday afternoon. Before that, he raised the Arena obelisk on Floor Three, hidden in a copse outside the town where he left the Rezz bead.
"Can they track the location?" Peter asked.
"An Arena obelisk is… an Arena obelisk?"
Touching the pillar, Peter was required to tell his name and situation. "Impulse the Bounty Hunter. Competitor."
He was sent directly to the locker room. He had nothing to leave there and walked out and into a ring set in the middle of the Arena. This time, it looked like an MMA cage, but bigger. It was to be expected. The rules stated no weapons and flying, but any armor or skills were allowed. Seeing the ring, he would have thought his adversary would be a brute full of muscles. Instead, it was a middle-aged woman wearing a training suit with Yalevard colors. A teacher.
"Boo… boo... Suck us, Yalevard," Peter heard his colleagues yell. In the front row, coming an hour before, to get the seats, his friends.
"Begin!" the qi-voice of the arbiter said.
The woman dashed forward, a movement skill, and kicked Peter's head with her foot. With his helmet on, it was just a minor inconvenience. He shrugged a few other kicks and hits, thinking of a strategy.
The System was right… it was a ten-minute single round, and the woman had already a ten or more points advance. Starting to move in random patterns, to activate his Dexterity perk, Peter tried to inspect his opponent. On the HUD, a slight yellowish light enveloped the woman for half a second before she activated her skill.
The Cultivator started to add a second skill, or enhancement, adding force to her blows. Now, Peter started to feel something, and his True Aura activated, soaking the damage. But with two skills at the same time, she was slower. He started Warping, as soon as he saw the light. Passing through her, he scored his first hit, to the kidneys.
The woman roared and spun to kick him in the helmet again. Peter's next moves were more precise. Slowly, the points difference diminished, and the woman began panting, as he kicked the same spot. Yet, she kept fighting.
What rank is she?
Ten minutes of continued fighting seemed like an eternity. When the bell rang, both Peter and the woman collapsed on all fours. She was showing how much he had hurt her, and he was out of Mana.
The arbiter flew down and raised Peter's hand. He had won with three points. He blinked, as he had no way to wipe the sweat out of his eyes with the helmet on, and found himself in the copse, a gold bullion next to him, the reward.
"I don't care. The semi-finals already? Is Li still in?" "Because Li's in?" "Pfff… What if I abandon, but come here as Peter, a simple spectator, and steal the ring while he’s busy fighting in the finals?" "Oh... If you put it this way... OK, we stick with the plan. I hope I get through the finals.> ---------------------------------------- Arriving back in the Arena, three hours later, Peter summoned his character sheet. He had gained a few levels in the matches, reaching seventy. He has invested six free APs into Concentration, following his plan to cap it, and reached the Journeyman tier in the process. The remaining three points went into his Magic power, and that made the stat go over the cap too, due to the presence of his friends and Regina. What happened was that if enough allies were around, his stat felt it somehow and activated the cap perk, which was a tremendous bonus. Peter Hillden, age: 22, Class: Impulse, Lvl. 70 Strength: 100 / Dexterity: 100 / Constitution: 61 Intelligence: 46 / Will: 48 / Concentration: 61 Charisma: 57 / Luck: variable / Magic Power: 101 (+50) This time, there was no ring, all the arena was open for combat. Peter's adversary was a young slim man, or more likely an old Cultivator looking young by virtue of his ninth rank. He had blue-gray hair, eyes, skin, and likewise colored clothes, simple and following the movements of the body. He had a heavy saber in one hand, and a fingerless glove on the other. Probably a magic-enhancing artifact. Peter produced his spear, making it into a short assegai. The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation. A qi-voice announced: "The semi-final between Grandmaster Boo and Impulse the Bounty Hunter is about to begin. This match has no time limit and no points and ends only with one adversary yielding or incapacitated. All types of attacks or skills are permitted, except for flying. Prepare yourself. Three… two… one… Begin!" The Cultivator ran forward, flourishing his sword. Peter Warped behind the other, thrusting with his spear. The man blocked the attack with his back turned, raising his sword, and then somersaulted and faced Peter, taking a defensive stance. Having an advantage in reach, Peter started a flurry of thrusts, aiming for the Cultivator's members. The saber wielder was struggling to match Peter's speed and the feints his dexterity produced. Happy to see the Cultivator was bleeding, Peter pressed on. After all, it was better to finish quickly. Blinded by adrenaline, it was only when he began to feel dizzy that he heard the System's voice screaming in his head: "Retreat! Retreat!" He Warped back, to the edge of the Arena. You have been inflicted with heterochiralic DOT: -5% HP/second. The HUD showed his health was at half. "What the fuck is that?" Peter hissed. ENGLISH! Peter yelled in his mind, jumping again to stay out of the Cultivator's reach. "The fuck?" An influx of energy went through his body, and his health went up to seventy-five percent. Somewhere in the public, Regina was feeding a health pill to a Peter doll. Give me the good news. Meanwhile, the cultivator was laughing like a maniac, running after Peter, who was jumping from one end of the Arena to the other. His efforts futile, he changed tactic, stomping his foot on the ground. A burst of smoke erupted from the Cultivator's body, filling the Arena with a very thin haze. You are inflicted with Mana Siphoning DOT (-2%/second). You are inflicted with Mind Debuff (Intelligence, Will, Concentration, -50%). "OK, gloves off!" Peter sneered. He Warped behind the Cultivator, trying to take out the man's core in the process. The skill took twice as long to activate, and the Death Magic user dodged away. Peter pressed on. His Warp hit into an obstacle, feeling like a gelatinous soup. The Cultivator had enveloped himself in a sort of invisible protection. The opponent moved again. Fighting against the sensation, Peter entered Warp a third time and pushed his spear onward, but Boo evaded yet again. Meanwhile, the HP DOT struck again, Peter was at forty-five percent Health and thirty-nine percent Mana. Yielding crossed his mind, but if the arbiters were bribed, they would probably pretend not to hear. He transformed his spear into a javelin and threw it, adding a Kinetic Impulse. Peter's ranged attack surprised the adversary, but it was not enough. Twisting his body, the Cultivator took a step back, the javelin planting itself in the ground, mere inches from his foot Tectonic Electric Impulse! Peter's mind screamed. Linked to his spear through its magic conducting properties, the command succeeded. This time, he used no spikes. Hands made of sand grabbed the Cultivator's ankles, delivering an electric shock, while Peter Warped in front of his foe, his hand thrusting into the man's chest, grabbing the core. The move was always a one-two-three. Warp, get out of it to get hold of the core, then Warp again. This time, his activations slowed, and the second step took too long. Gasping under the pain and instinctively stepping back to get away from its source, the Cultivator delivered a cutting swipe to Peter's neck, hitting just below the helmet's edge. Both fell backward. Peter Warped his hand out of Boo’s body on the way down. When he hit the ground, the Cultivator's core was in his hand, and when the latter hit the sand too, he was dead. Screams erupted from the stalls. Something was amiss with Peter. A lot of pain, and his eyes looking at the arena behind him, an impossible position. A fountain of blood sprayed out from his neck, he could see it arch like a fountain. You have suffered a lethal hit. HP 0.15%... HP 0.5%... HP 0.01%... HP 1%... HP 0.6% "Bll… dbck…" he gurgled an attempt at What the fuck, but the air was not reaching his mouth, exiting through its severed trachea. All kinds of strange sensations assaulted them. The desire to sleep, something pulling at his body and trying to snatch it away—somehow he knew it was the Rezz Bead—while something else pulled at his head and wounds, a stinging sensation. So that's why the sting sensations… His neck was again attached to the torso, but his heart stopped. Boom… he felt a hit in the chest. A shadow approached an arbiter landing nearby. "Due to unfortunate circumstances, this match is a draw, both concurrents are de—" "Wait!" The thunderous voice was followed by a real thunder. "As the director of the tournament board, I’m conducting a surprise inspection. This one is still alive!" "But, grandmaster Li! This is clearly not the case," the arbiter protested. The newcomer leaned forward, pressing his finger on Peter's throat. "I feel a pulse! Count!" "Very well," the arbiter sighed. "One… Two…" Li's hand grabbed Peter's hand, squeezing his fingers over the dead cultivator's core. The young man felt an intense but brief shock, and then the core started to diminish in size. You have learned the skill: Consume Core. You are restored to 99% HP and 99% MP. "Eight… Nine…" "I'm OK!" Peter yelled, warping up in a standing position. He raised his hands over his head, waving at the crowd. "T'was only a flesh wound!" "T-the winner is Impulse, the B-bounty H-hunter…" the arbiter stuttered. The roars of the public rose to deafening levels, chanting his nickname over and over again: “Im-pulse, Im-pulse!” "I will check the wards myself, this is a serious matter," Li declared and zapped away. You have slain Grandmaster Boo, Champion of Death Magic. You have leveled x5 and received 15 free APs. Your duel has been watched by over one billion viewers, Floors 1-3 combined. You have earned the title: Showman, and a bonus of 10 APs in Charisma. Put all free APs in Intelligence. Change of plans. I need better reactions. “Goodness, this is a mess...” Peter looked around. He had stepped into his own blood, or maybe both, because Boo had bled a lot too. "During the wards' inspection, transport is suspended. Please remain seated," a qi-voice announced. “We assure you everything is done to speed up the process.” "Uhuh," Peter said, waving again at the public, looking toward Regina and his friends. She was discreetly beckoning to him. "If you say so…" The crowd had ceased to pay him attention, more preoccupied with the delay now, and Peter Warped and Stealthed simultaneously. First, he headed to the locker rooms, even if he was invisible, he felt more comfortable to change there. When he reached his group, Regina jumped into his arms, squeezing herself to his chest. "I love you," he said. "I love you so much," she began crying. "Bwaaaa…." Regina's father sobbed. "My baby is in love!" Fuck, I forgot about him…