Tournament[2]

I stepped onto the stage, my heart pounding against my ribs. The crowd buzzed with energy, their cheers and conversations blending into a chaotic hum.

I scanned the audience—so many eyes watching, waiting for blood, waiting for us to prove something. The moment felt heavier than it should've, but I couldn't let it shake me.

Across from me, my opponent stood completely still. Short, black hair, a bit of stubble on his chin, and a look of quiet confidence in his eyes. He wasn't cocky, but he wasn't nervous, either. That meant one of two things:

1. He knew exactly how strong he was and didn't doubt himself.

2. He had fought way too many battles to be scared of another one.

Neither option was good for me.

The referee raised his hand.

"Start match!"

Instantly, his skin hardened, taking on the color and texture of solid rock.

"Shit."

Before I could react, he exploded forward.

And I mean exploded.

This dude wasn't just running. He was moving like a bullet, legs pumping with brutal efficiency. I barely had time to dodge before he reached me.

WHAM!

His fist grazed my ribs as I twisted out of the way. Even that slight hit felt like a sledgehammer smashing into my side. If that punch had connected cleanly, I'd be on the ground already.

"He's fast. Too fast for someone with rock-hard skin."

That shouldn't have been possible. If his body was made of rock, he should be slower. Heavy. But this guy moved like he had no weight at all.

"So he must be using bursts of energy instead of pure muscle movement. He's accelerating in short, controlled bursts."

His speed wasn't constant. He wasn't fast all the time.

But when he attacked, he went all in.

I needed to find a pattern.

I summoned Lona, my turtle-like summon, and was about to give an order—

BOOM!

He rushed me again, and this time, I wasn't quick enough.

His fist slammed into my stomach.

Pain exploded through my body. I gasped, feeling the air rush out of my lungs as I flew backward, hitting the ground hard.

"Damn it."

My vision blurred for a second, but I saw his shadow looming over me.

He wasn't waiting. He was already moving for another attack.

"He's not giving me time to breathe."

But he wasn't focusing on me anymore.

He was going after Lona.

"He's smart."

Taking out my summon meant taking out my support.

But he made one mistake.

I wasn't done yet.

"Lona, Laser Eyes!"

Lona's eyes glowed, and twin beams of golden light shot forward.

He dodged.

Again.

He had already seen the attack before.

He zigzagged, avoiding every shot, moving like a trained fighter who knew exactly how to handle ranged attacks.

"He's experienced. He's probably fought people with projectile abilities before."

Fine.

I had something he hadn't seen before.

"Lona, Leaf Cutter!"

Two razor-sharp, glowing leaves materialized behind Lona and shot forward.

They struck his chest and shoulders.

And did absolutely nothing.

"As expected. His armor is too thick."

But I wasn't aiming to damage him.

I was aiming to distract him.

Because the moment he dodged Lona's laser beams, he was already committed to his movement.

And I had just added another attack into the mix.

His foot slipped.

Just a little. But it was enough.

He was now slightly off-balance.

And that was all I needed.

I unsummoned Lona.

Just as he threw a punch at Lona's previous location—

There was nothing there.

He hit air.

He froze for half a second.

And that's when I struck.

I re-summoned Lona right next to me and ordered:

"Fire!"

Lona's Laser Eyes hit him point-blank in the face.

His rock armor didn't cover his eyes.

He roared in pain, stumbling backward.

I pushed forward.

I clenched my fist.

And I swung.

My fist connected with his jaw.

CRACK!

His head snapped backward.

He staggered.

Lona fired another laser.

BOOM!

The force of the blast sent him flying.

He hit the ground—and didn't move.

The referee stepped forward.

"Winner—Number 111!"

The crowd erupted.

I barely registered the sound.

I was too busy catching my breath.

I looked at my opponent.

Even knocked out, he had a slight smile on his face.

"That guy wasn't just strong. He was dangerous."

If I had made one mistake, I would've been the one unconscious on the ground.

I clenched my fist.

"I need to get even better."

Because this was only the first match

And I knew the next fights would be even worse.

Adam stood across from his opponent, rolling his shoulders, loosening up.

The girl in front of him was taller than him by a few inches, pink hair tied up in a high ponytail. Her arms were lean, her stance relaxed, but her eyes? Sharp.

She wasn't here to play.

The referee raised his hand.

"Start match!"

The second the words left his mouth, Adam rushed forward—but stopped halfway.

Because the girl hadn't moved.

She just smirked.

Then, she stretched her arm.

Not in a normal way.

Her entire freaking arm elongated, shooting forward like a whip.

WHIP!

Adam barely ducked in time as her fist flew past his head, missing by inches.

"Elasticity. That's her power."

She could stretch and retract her limbs like rubber.

But that wasn't the dangerous part.

The dangerous part was that she could snap them back just as fast.

WHIP!

Her other arm shot toward him.

Adam sidestepped, but as he predicted—

Her arm snapped back instantly.

She used the force to spin, turning her entire body into a bladed whip.

"Tch."

Adam threw himself backward, avoiding the attack.

"Her range is insane. I can't get close easily."

She grinned. "You're quick. But let's see how long you can keep running."

Then, she jumped.

Her legs stretched mid-air, giving her an almost spider-like appearance.

WHIP! WHIP! WHIP!

Her arms moved in all directions, lashing at him like a storm of whips.

Adam dodged, weaved, rolled. Why wasn't he using his ability 

He was fast—but even he knew that dodging forever wasn't an option.

Then, he noticed something.

Her movements weren't random.

They followed a pattern.

Her arms stretched first, then her legs, then she snapped them back to regain momentum.

That snap-back moment was when she was at her weakest.

He dashed forward.

She smirked. "Dumb move."

Her left arm lashed out—

Adam jumped over it.

Her right arm followed—

He rolled under it.

Then came her legs.

Just as predicted, she stretched them out to counter his approach.

But Adam wasn't aiming to dodge this time.

He jumped.

And instead of avoiding the attack—

He grabbed her leg.

Her eyes widened. "What—?!"

She tried to snap it back, but Adam held on, tight.

He used the force to swing himself forward and, in the same motion—

He punched her in the gut.

Hard.

Her body crunched inward, air whooshing out of her lungs.

For the first time, she looked shaken.

She staggered back, clutching her stomach.

Adam didn't wait.

He lunged forward, landed three clean strikes to her chest and ribs, then finished with a brutal uppercut to the jaw.

BAM!

She collapsed.

The crowd went wild.

The referee stepped forward.

"Winner—Adam!" without even using his ability he won

Adam exhaled, running a hand through his hair.

The arena was filled with tension as the last few matches concluded.

The giant holographic screen displayed the names of those who passed.

Only 250 students left.

Andrew stood near me, both looking at the results . We both had won Andrew match was also in Round 3 so I wasn't able to see it but I was glad he won

Andrew, as usual, was silent.

I exhaled.

"The first stage is done. But the next one…"

I looked at the screen again.

Tomorrow's challenge: The Combat Robot Gauntlet.

It wasn't a one-on-one match.

This time, we had to fight machines.

The rules flashed on the screen:

50 students per round.

The arena had 50 robots in each room equivalent to the participant rank 

The top 100 students with the fastest kills and least damage taken would move on.

"Speed and efficiency. Not just brute force."

I clenched my fist.

"Time to prepare"

That Night – The Cafeteria

The cafeteria was buzzing with conversation.

The smell of grilled meat, rice, and vegetables filled the air. The place was massive—long tables stretching across the hall, hundreds of students sitting together, discussing strategies for tomorrow.

Trays clattered, steam rose from hot meals, and some students even had protein shakes in hand, already thinking about recovery.

I grabbed my food—grilled chicken, some pasta, and a bottle of water.

Andrew sat across from me, eating quietly.

"The next round is all about skill. Strength alone won't cut it."

I could feel it.

Tomorrow wouldn't just be another match. It would be war.

---

Next Day – The Robot Gauntlet

The location wasn't the same arena as before.

This was Section A-2—a high-tech battle simulation zone.

Instead of one big arena, there were 50 rooms—each one a sealed-off combat space with cameras and sensors.

An unknown professor stood on the main stage, looking down at us.

He had silver hair, a cybernetic arm, and sharp, calculating eyes.

"Welcome to the second stage of the tournament," he said, his voice amplified by the speakers. "This time, your opponents will not be human."

A holographic screen flickered to life, showing a 3D model of the combat robots.

The robots were humanoid, sleek and metallic, about 6 feet tall with reinforced plating. They had no weapons, just bare fists.

But the way their joints moved—fluid, precise, efficient—it was clear they weren't ordinary machines.

The screen showed the rules again:

5 rounds in total.

Each round, 50 students enter 50 different rooms.

The fastest 100 students across all rounds move forward.

Damage taken reduces your score.

Speed and accuracy are everything.

I checked my device.

My number was 111