Fight

Alexandre and Omega arrived in front of the small administration building in the middle of the arena. Once again, the man who was supposed to be guarding the entrance saw Alexandre—but this time, the student was accompanied by a professor with a reputation for violence.

The poor man didn't even try to block the entrance. He just looked down at the ground and stepped aside in surrender.

Alexandre was too furious to notice such an insect, so he shoved right past the guard and violently yanked open the door. His shoes stomped heavily on the ground as he made his way into the building and saw the arena director, who was sitting nonchalantly in his chair and in the process of lighting a cigar.

Trying to contain his rage, Alexandre stepped in front of the director and said, ''You seem pretty calm considering I think someone's about to suffer a slow and agonizing death in here!" Then he took a deep breath and said coldly, "We had a deal. Where the fuck is my money?"

Despite all of these words, and despite knowing exactly what Alexandre was capable of after the recent fight, the director didn't seem at all concerned. "Hmm?" he intoned, as though Alexandre was a child who'd just barely caught his attention. "They wouldn't pay you your earnings outside? Dear goodness, I'm sorry to hear that. What an unfortunate situation." His eyes narrowed. "But before I can help you rectify the situation… To whom exactly am I speaking?"

Alexandre immediately understood the implication. He'd taken part in the fight under the name "William Walton." However, he'd placed the bet in his own name.

This must have provided the director with a paper trail that could be used to prove Alexandre had defrauded the bank by acting under a fake name, one way or another. The man was apparently confident enough in his own position that he'd decided to throw Alexandre under the bus after all.

Which was, of course, exactly what Omega had predicted.

But Alexandre wasn't prepared to go whining to a teacher just yet. He gritted his teeth, clenched his fists, and began to activate his Hunter energy. Though he couldn't see his own face, he knew that his eyes would've just begun to glow a neon blue.

And for some reason, the arena director only smiled…

But before anything interesting could happen, Professor Omega stepped out from behind Alexandre. "Hello, André! It's been a while, eh?"

For the first time, the arena director looked surprised, and he began to cough on cigar spittle. "Omega!? What are you doing here? You didn't come to help this dumb rookie squeeze a few pennies out of me, did you?"

Omega smiled lazily. "Come now, you know that I don't concern myself with little things like arena winnings. I'm just wondering, on a personal level, as a simple professor of the academy, purely hypothetically… What would happen if it came to light that you were letting fighters fight under false names?"

A bead of sweat rolled down the arena director's forehead. He definitely understood the pressure he was being put under. Nonetheless, he said, "Come now! What would happen if I let every smartass freshman roll right over me when they came up with yet another idiotic scheme at this fucking academy? The newbies need to learn their place, my friend. This one should be lucky he got away without a worse outcome. You want your students to grow wise and mature, don't you? They need to learn the consequences of their actions!"

Omega shrugged. "Look, André, I get it. You're furious that my pupil bet so much money on strong odds that he knew he'd win. Of course you don't want him to make a fool out of you. That's why I'm offering you a deal! We'll settle for half the winnings—and, of course, the return of the original stake! In exchange, I'll forget all about this unfortunate affair."

The arena director was shaking his head almost before Omega had finished speaking. "Absolutely not. We have a reputation to uphold. This student didn't respect the rules of the arena. Therefore, we will not pay out. You're not the only man with influence in this fucking cesspool of an academy, Omega."

There was a long silence during which Alexandre and Omega stared at Director André without moving a muscle. Finally, Omega said, "You know, I've heard a lot of stories about the underground and what happens to their employees who don't play by the rules. You know what I think, my friend? I believe you're bluffing. You keep hinting that the underground would support you if the news of your actions came to light, but I know them too well for that. Even if I don't turn you in, someone will. When that happens, it's going to take a lot more money to keep you safe than you're giving up today! Come now, have some common sense."

Director André looked embarrassed at these words. It seemed that, indeed, Omega's estimation had some truth to it. The underground had a reputation of its own, one of severely punishing its members who stepped out of line. "Okay," the director muttered at last, "You've won." Then he turned to his assistant and snapped, "What are you just standing there for!? Transfer these winnings to Mr. Hauteville at once!"