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Chapter 87: A New Kind of Fight
🕑 Added 2025-07-16 15:21:05 +0000 UTCRussell's mind wandered to darker territories as he recalled the previous night's... educational encounters. A certain archaeologist's Devil Fruit abilities had sparked some rather creative ideas—the ability to bloom any part of her body anywhere she wished opened up fascinating possibilities. His fingers twitched with anticipation, but his empty wallet served as a cold reminder of reality's constraints.
Focus, he told himself, shaking his head clear. There's a tournament happening.
The arena below commanded his attention as Holden squared off against Leon from Riverbend High. This wasn't like the earlier matches where Holden's opponents had crumbled at the first sign of real pressure. Leon moved with the confidence of someone who'd survived more than a few scrapes, his cards responding to commands with military precision.
Russell finally understood what that Seaview High student had been trying to warn him about.
"Finally," Holden breathed, his voice carrying across the arena like a predator's growl. A manic grin split his face as he stood at the edge of the battlefield, his fingers running through his hair in a deliberate motion that slicked it back into an arrogant style. "Someone worth my full attention."
Oh, come on, Russell thought, barely suppressing a snort. What's next? Are you going to declare that you'll "stand in the sky" from now on?
Leon, thankfully oblivious to Russell's internal commentary, studied his opponent with growing unease. The casual confidence in Holden's stance screamed of hidden depths, of cards yet unplayed. But what could he possibly be holding back?
The tiger demon on the field was already feeling the pressure. Leon's coordinated assault had pushed it to its limits, forcing it into increasingly desperate defensive maneuvers. Blood matted its orange fur, and its breathing came in ragged gasps. Any moment now, it would—
Holden stepped onto the battlefield.
The referee raised his whistle, ready to call a foul, when his earpiece crackled to life. Whatever he heard made his eyes widen. After a moment's hesitation, he lowered the whistle. "The duel will proceed as normal."
Russell's blood ran cold. No way. They're actually allowing this?
Holden's laughter echoed through the arena like breaking glass. Before Leon could process what was happening, pieces of armor materialized around Holden's body—not summoned cards, but equipment that seemed to flow from his very essence. A massive ring-handled machete took shape in his grip, its blade catching the arena lights with wicked intent.
"What the hell!?" The student section erupted in shocked gasps. This wasn't in any textbook, wasn't part of any standard curriculum. This was something else entirely.
The university representatives, however, exchanged knowing glances. They'd seen this before—rarely, but enough to recognize the signs. Several heads turned toward the Daming Mining & Technical College representative, silently demanding an explanation.
The man straightened with obvious pride. "Holden's family," he said simply, "is a martial arts family."
Those four words carried the weight of tradition, of bloodlines that stretched back generations. The other representatives nodded in understanding, though their expressions remained troubled. Even high-level cardmakers rarely chose to fight in person. The risks were simply too great.
Russell felt a chill of recognition mixed with grudging admiration. Of course. I should have seen it coming. But beneath the surprise, gears were turning in his mind. If Holden could do this, what was stopping him from exploring similar paths?
Symbiotes, he mused, would be perfect for this kind of fighting. Enhanced strength, speed, automatic defense systems... His imagination ran wild with possibilities. The Emperor Armor, Oma Zi-O, the Crimson Spiral Rock... He paused, reality checking his ambitions. Okay, maybe those three are a bit much. Even for me.
The baseline strength of a symbiote was seventy tons—far beyond what current materials could support. But he'd already proven he could scale things down with his Mark 3 modifications. A youth version, then. Something I can upgrade later.
His train of thought was derailed by an explosion of sound from the arena.
BOOM!
Holden's machete carved through the air like a falling meteor, striking the ground with enough force to send spider-web cracks racing across the reinforced surface. Sparks flew as the blade dragged across stone, leaving a molten trail in its wake.
Leon's face went pale. Did anyone mention I'd be fighting a complete psychopath? His cards, which had been performing admirably moments before, now seemed woefully inadequate. Every time he tried to focus fire on the tiger demon, Holden would surge forward with that terrifying blade, forcing him to redirect his attention. One of his cards already sported a severed arm as proof of what happened when you ignored the human hurricane tearing through the battlefield.
Where did this monster come from? The thought rippled through the crowd like a contagion. If the imperial court still held martial arts examinations, this guy would probably take the top spot without breaking a sweat.
Russell watched with professional detachment, analyzing every move. Holden's martial arts weren't just impressive—they were transcendent. Combined with the enhancement from his equipment cards, he moved like something beyond human limitations. If Russell hadn't known better, he might have mistaken Holden for a creature card himself.
The end came swiftly. Leon's final card crumpled under a devastating combination attack, and suddenly the arena fell silent except for the sound of Holden's heavy breathing.
"Hu Lai, wins!"
The referee's voice seemed to come from very far away. Holden raised his arms in triumph, his armor gleaming with sweat and reflected light. In the stands, Russell was already running calculations. If I had to face him with just my public cards... could I win?
The answer wasn't encouraging. Of course, he had other options—cards that wore the Iron Man designation, secrets that even the Spirit Begging Society didn't know about. But those were for life-or-death situations, not tournament matches.
It doesn't matter, he reminded himself. My grades are already good enough for Northgate University. I don't need to win the whole tournament.
The real prize wasn't the trophy—it was the connections, the resources, the access to materials he could never obtain on his own. Director Blake's endorsement would open doors, but Russell's own performance would determine how wide those doors swung. And the higher his ranking, the more the Spirit Begging Society would invest in his future.
Besides, he thought with a slight smile, I've got a few surprises of my own brewing.
The tournament was far from over, and Russell had the distinct feeling that the real fights were just beginning.
(End of Chapter)
Comments
Raphael Espinoza Angulo
There are many suits/armors that can be used, those of the knights of the zodiac are very OP but they would be useful later on.
SHTC
Im excited to see how he escapes the cult
