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The massive stadium echoed with the clatter of footsteps as students wandered around, admiring the weapons on display. The walls were lined with everything from gleaming swords to massive hammers, and even futuristic-looking energy rifles. There was an entire section dedicated to shields–big, bulky, and intimidating–and next to them were a first aid kit that glowed softly, an all-round shovel, and an advanced laptop sitting on a sleek pedestal. A few students glanced at them.

But none of that mattered to me. I had made my decision. It was already made the moment we walked in.

The instructor's voice boomed over the loudspeakers again. "Pick your weapon, students! This will define your role for the rest."

There was a lot of noise, a lot of chatter. The younger students were like excited little puppies, pawing at the weapons like they were about to pick out their favorite toy.

Jerry, standing beside me, was practically vibrating with excitement. His eyes danced across the array of weapons before him, stopping at the broadswords–the heavy, two-handed blades that made a loud whoosh sound as they cut through the air.

"I'm getting it, bro!" he declared loudly enough for half the stadium to hear. "Nothing better than this!"

A single-edged giant. A broadsword.

I didn't respond right away. It wasn't that I wasn't paying attention to Jerry; it was just that I had already made my decision.

Looking at glimmering technology, gravitating toward it for a second. The tech energy running through it... glanced right next to it

"Here you are," the double-edged sword, "found ya'"

It wasn't a choice, not even hesitation. I had been a multitasker in my past life–always juggling, always analyzing, which can also be applied in theories relating to sword styles.

Ever since I was brought into this new life, I know for sure a lot will change, and so will I. Still has the same principle, just with a different approach. Every swing of the blade, every calculation in my head would be deliberate... precise.

And hey, who's to say a little bit of combat can't be therapeutic?

I reached for the word, its cold metal a welcome weight in my hands.

Meanwhile, Jerry, who had been practically jumping with excitement, swung around and grabbed the broadsword. It was massive, cleaving, the kind of weapon that practically shouted, 'I don't need speed, I have strength.' And sure enough, Jerry's stats were built for it. No one could deny the guy had the muscles to swing it. His face seems that of a Jojo reference.

"Oh yeah, this is me," Jerry said, admiring the broadsword in his hands. He swung it dramatically, accidentally knocking a helmet off a nearby display stand.

"You're going to be a walking wrecking ball, Jerry," someone from behind snickered.

Jerry winked at them. Don't stand too close, bro."

I ignored the group's laughter. Sure, my own stats weren't built for battle–hell, if anything, my stats screamed support, but that didn't matter.

But it wasn't just the sword that was calling me–it was the challenge. I had spent years behind a desk, making sure everything was accurate, stats, chasing KPIs, making sure every number was right. In this place? Accuracy still mattered, but instead of data, it was about positioning, timing, focus. My hands had always been steady, my eyes sharp, and now that I was holding these two edges, I felt that old muscle memory kicking in.

The intructor turned to me, raising an eyebrow.

"Felix? Are you sure about this double-edged sword?"

A few students in the crowd snickered that have an idea about my stats. "Shouldn't he be a support?" one of them whispered.

Another one raised a brow. "I mean, your stats don't exactly match."

I shrugged, twirling the sword in my hand, its cold steel glinting under the bright lights.

One of the students behind me leaned in and whispered to another, "Doesn't he know his stats are practically useless for battle? I thought he'd go for the laptop or a hammer."

I grinned, ignoring them 'kids.' Try harder, kids, I'm basically older than your instructor, I thought.

Jerry, meanwhile, was practically giddy with his broadsword. He waved it around like it weighed nothing.

"Bro, imagine the damage I'm gonna do with this thing! It's gonna be epic! Bro!"

The last pause with a bro kinda irritates me. Jerry wasn't even paying attention to me anymore. He was lost in his own world, swinging that broadsword like he was already in battle. As well as many other kid participants that have made their respective decisions.

We all stood there, weaponless and waiting for the next step, I couldn't help but feel a sense of calm wash over me. I had my choice, and they had theirs.