Thrill

Midas walked into the small decrepit ring with a hoodie he had borrowed from Mickey over his head. His opponent scanned him up and down before chuckling loudly.

"Hey Mickey, this guy owe you money? Why'd you bring him here to die."

Mickey who was sweating profusely, gave a mirthless laugh before saying dryly.

"A friend of mine wants to try his hand, I thought he should give it a go. Go easy on him."

"We both know that's not going to happen." His opponent, Scarface Greg, smiled to himself at what he thought was a done match.

"START!"

Midas was aware of the fact that he was facing someone who fought for a living, and so he couldn't half-ass this fight. He intended on going all out from the very beginning. He adopted a stance reminiscent of the ancient muay thai martial art, his feet spread slightly apart, his weight leaning on his rear foot, and his arms raised high in front of him.

Greg shot forward towards him in short, controlled steps. Midas took this all in without issue with his new observational prowess. Greg threw a heavy jab with his right fist towards Midas' head, intending to end the fight in a single blow. Seeing the telegraphed fist coming towards him in what could be considered slow motion, Midas shifted his weight slightly backwards, just enough for the fist to miss him but also close enough for him to quickly step back into Greg's range of attack.

With a low kick to the back of Greg's knee, he delivered a furious right hook to the towering man's head once his balance was thrown off by the kick, knocking him out. The silence among the spectators were deafening as most of them had bet on Greg having an easy victory.

Mickey took the opportunity to quickly get in the ring and did what he did best. "Well, would you look at that. When had I ever vouched for someone who didn't give you your money's worth."

Midas stared at him with a raised brow.

"A few minutes ago, I'm pretty sure you believed I was getting myself killed."

"That was before I knew you could actually fight. Who knows what they teach you kids in those fancy schools." Mickey quipped. He quickly arranged for another fighter to take Greg's place while he went around collecting bets from all the spectators.

"Next up is my boy Midas going up against our very own Silvertooth."

A tall rugged man emanating a dangerous air walked into the ring slowly. He would have towered over Midas if he hadn't also been impressively tall, standing at 6'3, taller than most of his peers.

He dressed like a stereotypical thug, with tattered clothes with spikes protruding from them, giving him a menacing appearance. He looked pretty normal until he smiled, showcasing a set of silver teeth that glinted under the light of the neon bulbs.

He didn't waste his breath bloviating like Greg had, simply rushing up and delivering an axe kick which Midas sidestepped out of with ease. The next set of attacks were imbued with Aether, whizzing by so fast that Midas was nearly eliminated. Attesting to the fact that he couldn't win the fight without enhancements, Midas also slowly circulated his Aether through his body.

Taking but a second to adjust to his new limits, he pounced at Silvertooth immediately. First with a straight jab which was deflected, and then he followed up with an elbow strike, hitting Silvertooth right across the face.

The blow sent him stumbling backwards for tens of steps before he finally balanced himself.

"Good strike." Silvertooth grinned as he blood leaked from the corner of his mouth.

"I'd like to see you take this strike though!"

He settled his stance, lowering into a half-crouch, his arms spread apart in a grappling angle and his hands as straight as a blade.

Large veins were visible throughout his arms, and as he settled more into his stance, his body began vibrating at visible speeds. Smoke wafted off him in waves as his gaze turned crimson.

'BANG!'

Silvertooth shot out in a blinding speed, his right hand thrusting out towards Midas' heart. Midas turned cold, a chill creeping up his spine as he felt the presence of death.

He immediately activated his ability to the limit, his vision warping and everything slowing down to a crawl. He could tell that Silvertooth's attack would descend in less than two seconds and he had to make a quick decision.

He gaze ran over Silvertooth's body, as he looked for any visible weakness to exploit, finding none, he turned towards the descending hand and stared at it till he could practically feel the blood flowing through the veins on the arm, every single twitch of his muscle was under his purview and observation. Silvertooth's arm made a peculiar motion and for a few seconds, Midas was confused before realisation hit him like a speeding bus.

'A feint! He plans to follow up with another attack. You might have won if you weren't so damn... cautious.'

Midas stepped right into the attack and the spectators were shocked before they sighed in disappointment.

"It seems he's accepted his fate."

"It's not his fault, no one's ever won against Silvertooth when he uses this move!"

But to their astonishment, things didn't pan out as expected. Dodging the feint with a simple sidestep, Midas imbued his right arm with aether till it bulged and locked it around Silvertooth's neck. This all happened in the span of a second and Silvertooth's momentum was used against him, his throat deforming under the pressure of Midas' arm before he shot out like a cannonball, flying out of the ring and slamming into the far out wall.