AutumnXd
patreon
CHAPTER 18
🕑 Added 2025-06-08 14:26:45 +0000 UTCEthan Atherton, now cloaked and masked as "Kid Hacker," arrived at the fighter's entrance to the ring. A grim-faced staff member slid a datapad across the counter. Ethan signed the "life-and-death waiver" with his codename, the digital ink glowing ominously. Although the waiver was signed with an alias, it still held a chilling legal effect within the confines of The Gauntlet.
He said to the staff member nearby, his modulated voice betraying none of his inner turmoil, "You guys can open a betting pool on the matches here, right?"
"Yes," the staffer replied without looking up. "But participants are restricted to only betting on themselves to win. Do you want to place a bet?"
Ethan thought for a moment, his mind racing. What should I do? To bet or not to bet? I only have the 100,000 credits from Marcus on me right now. If I lose, it doesn't really matter in the grand scheme; worst case, I'll have to sell the potions we earned to pay him back. But if I win… I can make 200,000 credits clean. Then, an old Earth phrase surfaced in his mind, a mantra of commitment: burn the bridges. He felt a surge of adrenaline. Bet! Sometimes if you don't really push yourself, put everything on the line, you don't even know how much potential you truly have!
Ethan decisively slid the credit chip with the 100,000 credits to the staff member, betting on himself to win. He then turned and walked towards the designated ring. On the brightly lit stage, a large crowd was already cheering raucously for his opponent, Blitz.
"Blitz, the opponent is a complete greenhorn, a total rookie! You can't possibly lose! I've bet a lot of credits on you!"
"Smash that new guy's face in, Blitz!"
"Looks like I can go out drinking and merrymaking again tonight, courtesy of this newbie!"
Only two voices in the massive crowd were cheering for him. "Kid Hacker, go for it! You got this! Beat him!" Marcus's voice boomed.
"You definitely have to win!" Seraphina called out, her voice filled with a mixture of hope and anxiety.
Ethan, as a complete newcomer, had very high betting odds, a full 1 to 3. And Blitz, although he had lost many matches in the past, was ultimately a seasoned veteran of this bloody ring, so his odds were predictably low, only 1 to 1.1.
The thin, emaciated middle-aged man standing opposite him on the stage, Blitz, sneered. "Newbie, you're quite slow getting up here. Still, guys like you are just what we like to see – you’re here to give away your credits for free. To thank you for your generous donation, I'll try to go a little easy on you later."
Ethan knew he couldn't lose out in terms of sheer aura and intimidation from the very start. "Don't underestimate me, old man. You should be careful, or I'll be the one to break your brittle bones and make soup out of them later."
Blitz just sneered again, a cruel light in his eyes. "Newbie, daring to talk so big in your very first match, that's pretty good, I’ll give you that. But if your voice wasn't trembling so much behind that mask, your little threat might actually be even more powerful."
Ethan felt a flush of embarrassment; his nervousness had been exposed right at the start. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself and adjust his mental state. "Cut the crap! Referee, hurry up and start the match!"
The referee, a hulking figure who looked like a retired fighter himself, seeing their mutual animosity, also didn't waste any more words. "In this ring, we have the veteran Blitz, who has fought thirteen bloody duels, facing off against the newcomer, Kid Hacker! What kind of exciting performance will their battle bring us tonight? Match, begin!"
Ethan reacted instantly, transforming into the sleek form of XLR8. His opponent's codename was Blitz, so it was highly probable that his abilities were also related to speed. And looking at his wiry, lean physique, he also didn't seem like the type with overwhelming physical strength. Sure enough, just as the referee finished speaking, his opponent dashed forward with extreme, blurring speed, simultaneously brandishing two wicked-looking daggers. Ethan immediately dodged to the side, but the man also fluidly, impossibly, turned on a dime, his left hand holding a dagger and slashing directly towards Ethan’s face.
Clang!
The dagger struck XLR8’s faceplate, emitting a piercing, metallic shriek and sending sparks flying.
"Little brat," Blitz hissed, his eyes gleaming, "this beast form of yours is quite stylish, I’ll admit. But you're still going to die! Extreme Thorn!" Blitz activated his primary skill. His hands, gripping the daggers tightly, began to stab towards Ethan like a torrential, inescapable rain of steel. However, luckily for Ethan, XLR8 was a premier speed-type alien hero; his speed was all-encompassing, not just linear. Facing his opponent's blindingly fast attack, Ethan reacted with incredible speed of his own, dodging left and right, his movements a blur. He didn't forget to counter-attack with his own sharp, three-pronged claws whenever an opening presented itself.
Blitz, seeing his opponent charge towards him instead of just retreating, could only brandish his daggers to defend against the counter-assault. And so, the two blurs of motion remained in place, their hands waving with incredible, almost invisible rapidity, each attacking their opponent while constantly looking for a fatal opportunity to strike. Their hands moved so fast they left shimmering afterimages in the air. Daggers and claws constantly, furiously, collided, emitting a continuous stream of "clang clang clang" sounds that echoed through the arena. The people in the stands watched this tense, high-speed scene with growing excitement, their cheers becoming a deafening roar.
Blitz, through the clash, taunted him, "Kid, you indeed have some skill, I'll grant you that! But you'll only be able to hold out for a little while at most. I took a psionic energy recovery potion right before coming on stage. Very soon, your aura will be exhausted, and you'll revert to your original, fragile human form!"
Ethan, while dodging, shot back, "Can you even use potions in the middle of a match here?"
Blitz laughed, a harsh, grating sound. "Naive kid! There's only one real rule here in The Gauntlet, and that is: there are no rules! As long as you win, as long as you’re the one left standing, any and all means can be used here!"
"Thanks for the reminder," Ethan replied, a new plan forming in his mind. "You're right. Dragging this on is pointless. It's time to end this little dance."
"You finally know what's good for you, ki—" Before Blitz could finish his taunting word, WHAP! A thick, striped tail suddenly whipped through the air and hit him squarely across the face, the impact snapping his head back. His body, caught completely by surprise, involuntarily stumbled.
That single stumble was all the opportunity Ethan needed. He controlled XLR8’s powerful tail to instantly wrap around his opponent's legs, then with a powerful flick of his tail upwards, Blitz was suspended helplessly upside down in the mid-air. "My tail," XLR8 chirped, his voice a fast-forwarded whir, "isn't just for show, you know."
The frictionless sphere on XLR8's foot began to spin, and his whole body began to rotate rapidly on the spot, turning the suspended Blitz into a human centrifuge.
"Ah! Stop! Stop it! You despicable brat!" Blitz screamed, his world becoming a nauseating blur.
"Hey, I haven't violated any rules!" Ethan retorted cheerfully.
He spun on the spot for a full two minutes. Due to his unique Kineceleran physiology, he was completely unaffected by the dizzying motion, but Blitz's eyes had already turned into two spiraling mosquito coils from the extreme dizziness. Ethan, drawing from the experience of the previous match he had watched, deftly used his tail to pluck the daggers from Blitz's limp grasp and gently tossed them off the stage, disarming his opponent.
Ethan then reverted to his original human form, panting slightly. "Referee, I won, right?"
The referee, seeing Blitz slumped and unresponsive, didn't dawdle. "I declare, in this match, the winner is… Kid Hacker!"
Suddenly, celebratory fireworks and colored ribbons erupted around the fighting stage, a surprising bit of flair for such a grim place. The record on the large screen above also changed to: Kid Hacker: 1 match / 1 win.
"Awesome!" Having won his very first real, life-or-death match, Ethan’s heart was filled with an incredible, overwhelming sense of accomplishment. He went down from the stage, and a staff member immediately came up to him with a datapad to authorize his prize money transfer. First was the base prize for winning the match, 50,000 credits. Then the return of his own 100,000 credit bet, plus his winnings of 200,000 credits. And then, the thirty percent share of the total on-site betting pool, which came to just over 30,000 credits. This was probably because not many people had actually bet on the unknown rookie to win. Lastly, the 100,000 credit entry fee he had paid was also returned to him.
So, in total, he fought one match and made a net profit of 280,000 credits! "This thingamajig, this Gauntlet, really does make money fast!" Ethan thought, holding the credit chip with his newfound wealth. He happily returned to the stands. After rejoining Marcus and Seraphina, Ethan first transferred the 250,000 credits he had borrowed from Marcus (the 50,000 deposit, the 100,000 entry fee, and the 100,000 bet) back to his friend.
Marcus waved a dismissive hand. "Hey, no need to be in such a hurry to pay it back, man."
Ethan shook his head. "Even blood brothers need to settle their accounts clearly. Just take it."
Seraphina smiled, her earlier worry replaced by relief and pride. "How did this first match feel, Ethan?"
Ethan grinned, the adrenaline still singing in his veins. "It felt great, really fulfilling. We were both primarily speed types, but I have that extra tail, which gave me a huge advantage. All in all, that match was fought quite easily, once I figured out his pattern."
"Don't get too arrogant now," Seraphina cautioned gently. "You were lucky this time, and smart. But you'll always encounter more difficult, more cunning opponents later on."
Ethan nodded. "Relax, Seraphina, I understand."
"For the next match on Stage Two," the announcer's voice boomed again, "please welcome Muscle Man versus… Titan!"
Marcus jumped to his feet. "Hah! It's my turn! And hearing that name, Titan, his ability should be similar to mine, a strength type! Hahaha! This will be a good brawl! Watch me thrash him!" Marcus confidently went down to the stage, and conveniently, also placed a 100,000 credit bet on himself to win.
One minute later.
Looking at a somewhat dejected Marcus returning to the stands, Ethan patted his shoulder and tried to comfort him. "Hey, it's okay, Marcus. Victory and defeat are common in military affairs, as they say. Look on the bright side; at least no one tried to kill you, and you're not seriously injured."
Seraphina added softly, "That's right, Marcus. Think positively. At least you're not hurt, and you learned something."
Just a moment ago, when the referee had announced the start of the match, Marcus had immediately activated his muscle strengthening ability. Titan, his opponent, was also, as predicted, a pure strength-type psionicist. Originally, Marcus had charged towards him head-on, planning to overwhelm him with raw power. But just as Marcus got very close, right into his striking range, Titan had executed a simple, perfectly timed leg sweep, tripping him up. After that initial stumble, Marcus was easily grabbed by his more experienced opponent and unceremoniously thrown down, pinned, and forced to concede. Marcus's 100,000 credit entry fee, plus his 100,000 credit bet, and the 50,000 credit deposit, totaling 250,000 credits, were all lost in an instant. This competition, they were quickly learning, meant that winning yielded a huge profit, but losing was also quite tragic and costly.
Seraphina offered her analysis. "Actually, Marcus, this time your loss was mainly due to a glaring lack of real combat experience. The reason we, and especially you, only know how to go head-to-head with brute force is that skilled opponents use techniques, feints, and leverage. Although our families also provide us with training in formal fighting styles, our training is far too rigid, too predictable. In a place like The Gauntlet, people won't follow your set routines or fight honorably. He easily found an opening in your straightforward charge. This is a crucial area we all need to improve upon."
Marcus sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "You're right. Later, after this, I'll ask my uncle, Mr. Gordon, to help us with some real, practical combat training, focusing on unpredictability."
Ethan looked surprised. "Our homeroom teacher? Won't that be too much trouble for him, asking for extra private lessons?"
"No problem at all," Marcus replied confidently. "After school starts back up, we'll have our regular battle assessments and school-wide competitions. Our good performance in those is also counted as part of his teaching achievements; his face will also shine with pride, and it probably affects his bonus. He won't refuse a chance to make his students stronger, especially his own nephew."
Seraphina nodded. "Then after I've had my 2v2 match with Marcus, let's all go together. Let's really focus on improving our practical combat ability."
After a few more brutal, bloody matches on the other stages, it was finally time for their scheduled two-on-two team match. Their opponents, as it turned out, were a fire-type psionicist and a water-type psionicist. This combination, on paper, looked like they were trying to set up a powerful "steam explosion" or "evaporation" combo attack. But alas for them, facing Marcus, who was now fully buffed by both Seraphina's formidable Defensive Aura and her solid Bedrock Armor, they had no way to inflict any significant damage at all. Marcus became an unstoppable, armored juggernaut. They won the match easily and cleanly, netting a combined 350,000 credits.
The three of them, their spirits now considerably lifted after the win, walked out of The Gauntlet happily with their earnings, their first foray into the bloody world of underground fighting a qualified, if sobering, success.
