Chapter 229: Drawing Lots

Following the attendant back to the elevator, the group quickly descends a few floors and are led to a large arena, used for Battle Olympia and Floor Master challenges. It’s a huge arena situated above the standard 200th class, far grander and more impressive. In the very same place, Auren won and defended his own Floor Master title. Still, the grand arena feels eerily empty, as the stands are completely devoid of life. However, the fighting ring is decorated with red carpets, and luxurious chairs and tables are placed on it. On the tables, silver tableware is placed along with tasteful decorations and plates made of shiny white porcelain.On the ring and outside of it, Auren spots attendants and a few notable presences, accompanied by various unremarkable people.

Floor Masters...and their... guests or managers.

Auren takes a closer look at his rivals and can’t help but chuckle just a little.

“Heh... they are...” he can’t help but say. “Truly pathetic.”

“No,” Ura instantly disagrees. “It’s just you that are a frightening monster...”

“Heh, my little brother is no monster, he’s just talented, just like his big sister!” Vanessa says, smiling, hugging Auren, seemingly enjoying the compliment, despite it not being directed at her.

“Behave... or I’ll send you back to your brother right away,” Auren threatens her casually, causing her to instantly back off, looking panicked.

“So this is the rumoured Demon Claw,” a rough voice echoes from the side as a towering man, at least 2.50 meters tall, dressed in a martial arts uniform, resembling a robe without sleeves, steps forward. He is accompanied by multiple staff members holding cameras and disciples wearing similar clothing. “How cute, yet also disappointing. A small boy... this is beyond ridiculous. Despite your pathetic appearance, you can’t stop yourself from showing off, enjoying your little fame? How dare you bring your women with you?! This is a holy arena of martial arts, the peak of the world, the ultimate goal any skilled fighter wants to reach. As the champion, I’ll teach you a lesson you’ll never forget... should you be lucky enough to make it far enough to fight me.”

Is he for real?

Auren eyes the man carefully. After his loud speech, everyone is staring at them, obviously curious about this little distraction.

Bald, muscular, unnaturally tall, and most importantly... his Aura, his presence... is only so-so. Obviously not weak or incompetent, maybe even quite strong. Definitely stronger than the average Hunter, maybe even on the level of a single-star Hunter, but certainly not above Kite. More importantly than that... he is arrogant and foolish... judging me purely based on looks and his own wrong assumptions.

“You are supposed to be the champion?” Auren asks calmly.

“Of course! Are you blind?” the man yells angrily. “Surely you must recognize me!”

“I am sorry, but... I don’t know you. You are not even worth getting to know,” Auren states bluntly. “You’ll simply disappear if you face me. Don’t worry, though, I’ll try to spare your life should you be so unlucky as to encounter me. You are not even a frog at the bottom of a well. You are just... a pig, ready to be slaughtered.”

Everyone in the arena faces Auren, now looking at him, obviously shocked to hear his statement. Even the champion himself can’t believe what he heard, as he’s unable to form a sentence to reply.

“However, there is no reason why we shouldn’t enjoy this nice evening. Let’s save the... hostilities for tomorrow,” Auren says, walking away towards an empty table at the corner of the ring. “Let’s sit down... I’m a little hungry.”

Following Auren, the group sits down on one of the empty tables in the ring.

“That was the champion, Cleifter... you really don’t know him?” Ura asks, looking a little pale.

“I don’t know the names... I read a little. If it’s the champion... I pretty much know what he does. He can somehow harden his body, right?” Auren asks. “That’s not something I’ll pay too much attention to. It’s pathetically simple.”

“Yes... he is a Transmuter leaning toward Enhancement. He can mimic steel with his Aura. Last Battle Olympia, nobody could break his defense... despite your confidence, you need to be capable of actually damaging him. I think you are underestimating him.”

I could simply drown him... but that would be a little too boring.

It takes around half an hour before the arena fills itself with many strong fighters.

Notably, Auren also sees his target, Gama, arrogantly sitting next to two skimpily dressed women, his unnatural, long tongue licking them all over, like a wild dog not caring about appearances at all. The women are obviously disgusted, but decide to endure his treatment anyway.

“Bastard... cut off his tongue... afterwards his dick... then his limbs... then, after letting him squirm, you can cut off his head!” Vanessa says, her eyes full of disgust and hatred.

“I have to agree with her,” Neffi says. “Are all Floor Masters lowlives like this one?”

“Let him enjoy his last supper,” Auren calmly says. “As for the answer to your question... as far as I know, true and pure martial artists are not particularly interested in the popularized fights in the Arena. I heard some view it as impure, and I can’t help but agree... though it offers you real battle experience, which I think is valuable in its own right. It might appear to be the mecca of martial arts, but people who become Floor Masters do it for money, fame, and reputation. Even I myself merely want that title to push my own reputation. In my opinion, everyone here is quite selfish.”

“No! You’ll be different... a true champion!” Neffi says, somewhat shyly. “Beat these lowlives and show them someone truly deserving of that title.”

“How cute,” Vanessa says, rubbing her head playfully.

“I intend to,” Auren simply states.

Finally, with everyone seated, it’s actually Jort, the manager in charge of Auren, who enters the small stage adjacent to the ring.

“Welcome, Floor Masters!” he says, smiling. “I’m quite surprised to see all sixteen contestants show up for our little ceremony. Just to inform everyone, we have quite a few who had other commitments or were injured, and thus couldn’t participate. As all of you know, the rules change from time to time, but since we have sixteen confirmed participants, this year the format will be a simple knockout tournament.”

He continues, spreading out his arms, looking at the Floor Masters. “As for tonight’s event: After a small dinner course and a little speech by our owner and president, we’ll proceed to go over the rules once again, and then draw lots. We might also give you a few early hints about the special guests who you’ll get to fight in front of tomorrow. You’re truly blessed to fight in front of such a special audience. The cameras will only begin to broadcast the event when the owner gives his speech, so you can relax for now. Please enjoy the food.”

With all the contestants and their escorts and guests seated onstage, dozens of attendants carry out trays of food, quickly serving everyone.

While Vanessa immediately gulps down her food, seemingly enjoying it by her delighted expression, Auren refuses to eat.

“You aren’t eating?” Neffi asks, carefully taking a few small bites.

“Of course not...” Auren replies, laughing. “Please, just continue to eat. I’ll have something later.”

Looking a little guilty, Neffi reluctantly eats the food.

While the attendants notice Auren’s refusal to eat, they do not question him, or even address the issue. They calmly take away his plates and nod politely at him.

Finally, after thirty minutes, an elderly man, about as tall as Auren, enters the arena and ascends to the stage.

“Now, please be aware, cameras will be rolling!” Jort announces, as men with cameras surround the arena, filming from the seats as the man ascends to the stage, walking behind a small podium.

Even a moderator, one Auren believes he has seen before during his recent challenge as a Floor Master, enters and, excitedly, begins to moderate the event.

“Fighting lovers all over the world! Can you smell it... and I don’t mean the delicious food that was just served to our esteemed Floor Masters and their guests. No! It’s time for Battle Olympia, the most anticipated fighting event in the entire world! This time we have sixteen participants!”

“First, let me introduce them!”

She slowly introduces everyone. Of course, Auren is included. “Formerly known as the Demon Claw, known for his exceptional use of his hands, which he can freely morph into deadly claws, he is now known as the Nightmare Blade. His famous black katana is capable of cutting through anything... will that include our champion?” Her voice rises as she gestures. “Last, but certainly not least, the untouchable, the impenetrable, the insurmountable... the champion... the Steel Giant CLEIFER!”

“Oh wow... that is so bad...” Vanessa comments, looking amused, then suddenly whistles in jest.

“What a shitty job hyping up a fool like that,” Neffi says, agreeing with her.

You calling others fools is also quite... unusual.

“But for now... our president will offer a few words to you and our Floor Masters,” the moderator states.

The same elderly man looks at the Floor Masters below him.

“You will all die soon... the human body is quite limiting, after all. Even if you train your body to the absolute limit, you can merely prolong the inevitable to a certain extent. You will leave this world, probably without achieving anything of significance. However... you can become immortal. By winning Battle Olympia, you will have etched yourselves into history. I can promise you, Heaven’s Arena will continue to exist. Martial arts will continue to thrive. Tomorrow you’ll get to fight to your heart’s content, on the very stage you are now sitting in. It will be up to you if you are worthy of it. Do not disappoint me... and our guests.”

He then calmly walks off the stage and just leaves, receiving just a few awkward claps from the confused crowd.

“Just business, huh?” Auren asks. “No wonder he needs someone like that girl to motivate the crowds....”

“Thank you, President! What a deep and inspiring speech, wasn’t it?” the moderator says brightly. “As for our guests... I think I’ll leave it a secret, but we’ll have some special VIPs attending! From famous celebrities to royalty, please stay tuned... but for now, the most interesting and exciting part. Is everyone watching? Bring in the lottery machine!”

“Votes will close now,” Ura whispers. “Though there will still be the chance to bet on single matches. I will use the night to gather more organisations supplying us with straw bettors.”

“Why?” Auren asks. “Can’t you bet just the entire amount? I’ve been wondering for a while what is taking you that long.”

“There are extremely low caps on betting to stop insider betting. It’s limited to one hundred thousand Jenny per person,” Ura explains. “At least that’s the official betting, run by Heaven’s Arena. The illegal betting business, partly run by the Mafia, is something else entirely. We have two approaches. We are betting the legal way, through illegal means, using straw men. That’s for the official bets.

Continuing smoothly, she speaks in a low voice. “Of course, we are betting as much as we can through the Mafia-run bets. However, I’ve been playing with open cards and placing bets on your behalf. This way, you just come across as honest and confident. Even the Mafia will not cross you... that’s why their payouts are way worse than those of the official run bets. Anyway, the Mafia is actually the safer host to bet. They win either way... as long as they get their cut, they’ll just pay us.”

Now I get it...

Finally, as Ura finishes her explanation, a small machine with sixteen balls is brought onto the stage.

The host holds up one ball. “Sixteen contestants, sixteen names. Simple. I’ll draw, and we’ll have our matchups. Please look at this chart.”

She then shows a chart that couldn’t be simpler: sixteen spaces, empty for now at the bottom, one at the very top. A traditional tournament tree.

Auren vaguely watches as she draws name after name and writes the Floor Master’s name onto the empty spaces on the chart.

Finally, for the sixth match, he hears his own name, directly followed by another one.

“Who is Floor Master Auren up against? Let’s see!” the host announces, and draws another ball. “The champion, Floor Master Cleifer!”

“Lucky draw,” Auren says, smiling, while Cleifer stares at Auren from a few seats over, looking extremely satisfied.

A Transmuter that focuses on defense... interesting!