Chapter 10 - Next Phase

Chapter 10

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"--at th- --ll was that...?"

Tian Long barely registered someone speaking on the edge of his consciousness, sounding like they were talking through a layer of water. It took him about half a minute, something he inwardly berated himself for being too slow because of, to somewhat recover enough of his mental faculties to allow him to reign in his body's desire to curl up in pain.

Forcing his body to start moving despite feeling like his insides were just rattled by a shockwave, he tightly clenched his teeth and very slowly managed to start getting back up to his feet by the merit of the grit gained through countless hours of body breaking training he regularly subjected himself to.

The moment he succeeded in shakily righting himself the breath he had involuntarily held in was forced out of him, his hands swiftly shot to his knees to support his upper body while the haze of disorientation clouding his mind started slowly receding as he panted heavily, perspiration running down his temple.

As his vision cleared up his wide eyes stared at the girl who remained standing in her spot with a shock that hadn't yet dissipated from when he was first grabbed. Idly clenching his right arm which she grabbed, he felt a burning soreness spreading through it, a quick glance revealing a startling red handprint having been left behind by her grip.

"And what is this you guys! Are my eyes deceiving me, or what!? It seems Tian Long got cocky and underestimated Nana resulting in him getting flung away like a ball of paper!? Who could have guessed this, it seems Nana unexpectedly has some cards up her non-existent sleeves after all! What a surprise!" The commentator's mousy voice loudly reverberated throughout the arena with a tone of excitement accompanied by the crowd erupting, having formerly been frozen in bewilderment.

"O-Orson, w-what the hell is happening..." James stuttered out with a disbelieving look in his eyes as he watched the guy shakily standing up with a prolonged, muffled groan of exertion.

"It seems the lassie wasn't so ordinary, now was she?" Orson rumbled contemplatively as he thoughtfully scratched at his stubble. He wasn't as surprised since he already knew she could hold her own in a fight. Though on the contrary he didn't know what the fuck her opponent was doing jumping around like a circus animal.

If his move landed it probably would have been alot stronger than a normal punch considering the amount of momentum he gathered with all that moving around, however, to someone who knew what they were doing his movements were so telegraphed he might as well have been broadcasting his thoughts to the world.

Though maybe he was judging it prematurely, he may have some actual substance behind all those fancy acrobatics. He was probably also a bit biased since his background made him predisposed towards the practical side of things even though he knew that some martial arts were more ceremonial than others

"B-But she- I mean- she uh, just... what?" James' words emerged in scattered bits and pieces as his mind tried sorting out the infromation he just received in a way that didn't completely shatter his world view.

Tian Long pinned his now messy hair behind his ears as he stared at the girl looking back at him with a tilted head in a combination of both indignation at having been thrown so disgracefully and astonishment at her being fully capable of actually maneuvering his weight around despite her stature not reflecting it.

He was actually quite a bit heavier than he looked due to his muscles being much denser than normal which lead to an increase in weight lending further power to his punches.

"...It seems I have made a slight miscalculation in my desire to grant you the mercy of a quick ending to reduce your suffering as much as humanly possible, however, seeing as you have denied my compassion and made me display such a shameful showing to such a large crowd of onlookers this cannot stand un-corrected. You may have caught me off-guard due to my attention being diverted elsewhere at the time, but don't think that it will be a reoccuring theme in our bout." Tian Long closed his eyes, his countenance gaining a severe gravitas as if he was internally expressing regret. Lamenting at his fate of being forced by the circumstances to raise his hand against a girl.

That he also took this time to recover since the girl didn't seem keen on attacking him herself was just a fortuitious coincidence.

Slowly opening them a few seconds later, a viscious glint flashed past his visage before he once again shot towards Nana with a different series of movements compared to the ones he used before, if his previous forms focused on pure unadultered power, these ones were more tailored to speed and versatility.

Quickly arriving in front of the girl Tian Long started with a quick couple of punches which she easily blocked with her forearms before switching it up with attacking from weirder and weirder angles to confuse her, his arms snaking around her attempts at guarding like slippery eels as he subjected her to a rain of lightning fast blows she couldn't hope cope with.

"I suggest you surrender and allow me to free you from this game, if you do so now and quit wasting my time, I will magnanimously look past my previous humiliation." Tian Long proposed dismissively as he continued his flurry of blows resulting in a stream of constant thuds being produced with each punch as more and more blood marred her visage.

"..."

Receiving a stubborn silence in response to his offer Tian Long scoffed before intensifying his assault. The girl had apparently given up trying to block his fists as her forearms just stayed uselessly frozen in the air in front of her making it even easier for him, allowing him to allocate more power to his punches now that she decided to turtle up and try to tough it out.

Though eventually, Tian Long's face gained a small frown as he felt like something was wrong. Although he had been pummeling the girl for what must have been multiple minutes straight, she didn't seem to be showing any signs of damage at all barring the stains of red clinging to her. Despite being pushed around to sliding all over the arena due to her being a decent bit lighter than him, there was no shaking of her body, no signs of fatigue, no involuntarily noises caused by pain, no slumping in her posture.

Letting up his assault he took a few steps back in suspicion as he eyed her warily, she may have only been able to best him before because he was caught off guard, however, she was still much stronger than her build would suggest which could be dangerous.

The girl remained stationary despite him moving away, a light cloud of dust floating around her originating from the tracks her feet dragged through the arena.

A few seconds later when she presumably got confused about why he suddenly stopped, Tian Long's eyes widened in incredulity as a blank face void of any signs of distress stared back at him from under her arms positioned in a static cross-guard giving him a questioning blink, looking remarkably energetic for someone being covered in splotches of blood.

Now that he thought about it, the shock making his mind clearer compared to when he was absorbed into the fight, Tian Long doubtfully glanced down at his slightly trembling hands only now recognizing the sensation of pain screaming at him to stop, feeling like he had been punching a wall of ironwood.

A cool feeling of clearheadedness flushed through his system ruthlessly tearing apart his previously adrenaline addled state upon seeing his knuckles ruptured and coated in a thick layer of crimson red, his mind blanked as he unbelievingly clenched his hands, barely able to even form fists anymore no matter how hard he tried. His hands defied his commands, completely devoid of the strength and firmness he was used to wield.

Sluggishly raising his head to direct a haunted wide-eyed look at the girl still placidly watching him with no signs of attacking present in her stance, his thoughts and gradually sprouting sense of horror resulted in his next words dazedly leaving his mouth in a forelorn whisper filled with intense disbelief.

"I-Impossible..."

The rest of the arena seemingly shared his sentiment as a heavy silence hung over the premises, a stark contrast to the previous hubbub as all eyes dumbfoundedly alternated between the girl and Tian Long's halfway destroyed hands with turbulous minds as they tried processing something so far from what they thought possible.

For most people present, even the comparatively more mundane participants, body hardening wasn't a foreign concept. Some even practicing a martial art in which body hardening was an integral piece of it's whole.

However, even if you practiced body hardening in the most optimal conditions from the start of your martial arts journey, you would eventually reach a wall no matter how hard you tried. It just wasn't possible for the human physiology to attain the hardness of, say, a tree not to mention rock or metal.

Muscles and bones could get tougher with the right training, yes, but not even close to the extent of mimicking the properties of what most would think of when asked to think of something hard.

The extent of Nana's durability, thanks to her focus on the physical aspects of her body the past couple of years combined with her monstrous recovery rate and her body absorbing her efforts like a sponge, has pushed her to the point where it was actually dangerous for most others to even punch her while bare handed for prolonged periods of time, damaging them more than her.

Something that would've been impossible if not for her whole being detesting anything to do with 'limits' and pushing past them courtesy of Trogal's curiosity prompting him to favor a purely evolution based build in her creation.

This was also the reason that she could catch up with, and also slightly surpass, Chang-Hoon in terms of strength during such a short span of time.

The actual amount of time the both of them had spent developing their muscles were vastly different due to their ages being roughly 20 years apart, even more if you consider Nana being 'born' already physically 4 years old, but while Chang-Hoon and everyone else building muscle would eventually see gradually decreasing results in return for their efforts, Nana's body ensured that she wouldn't be slowed down by such things.

In other words? As long as Nana could attain sufficient stimuli to keep pushing her, she practically didn't have any limits in terms of the heights she could reach. Whereas others would eventually stumble into immovable obstacles, plateau or hit a ceiling in their quest for growth, Nana's path led straight to an endless space just waiting to be filled, even if it could not.

With that said, she'd still have to put in the effort to actually attain any semblance of progress. If she had for some reason decided to completely stop training the next week, she wouldn't magically continue to grow just because she was special. Though on the flipside she also wouldn't regress either, her body's inherent possessiveness regarding progress producing an effect sort of mimicking a state of negentropy in terms of development.

Unwilling to 'leak' any sort of 'growth', gathering and organizing it into a more coherent structure before further enforcing it's stability even further.

Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on who was asked, the [Trait], Invictus, that Trogal used as the foundational building block, the unshakable cornerstone upon which her unyielding mind had been built atop would ensure that as long as she herself remained interested she would never stop, regardless of what difficulties may be standing in her way.

"...I-Is this just some sort of fucked up dream?" James muttered blankly, wide dazed eyes locked onto the two fighters as his scrambled mind worked on overdrive, using whatever brain power left after such a mentally draining day to comprehend what had just happened.

He felt like he had been hit with a prolonged emotional whiplash ever since he was first dragged out of the comfort of [Sandbox Chatroom].

First heavily threatened, coerced into accepting the call to join a real life vr death game. When he had read about it in novels it was kind of a fun concept, but thinking of all the times he wished it would happen to him back then, he wanted to go back and kick himself in the nuts.

Spending the next part of his day constantly tensed up like a mouse in front of a cat while surrounded by people, one of which could have been his eventual 'killer', jumping at every little sound.

Nana arriving and the ensuing events playing out like a sick attempt at trying to give him an epileptic fit, just instead of rapidly flashing lights, it was rapidly changing emotional states. He usually enjoyed rollercoasters, however, this emotional rollercoaster he would happily exit at the closest opportunity.

And now it was revealed that Nana was apparently some hidden martial arts master or something, how the fuck do you proceed to tank a veritable rain of punches, very hard punches based on the sounds the guy's fists produced as they impacted her body, and end up hurting your opponent!?

What the fuck is this absolute shounen manga bullshit, huh!?

James' eyes gradually lost their shine before he abruptly banged his head against the bars producing a dull *Dang*, his body slumping as he slowly slid down onto the ground in a resigned heap.

"Don't crumble just yet, boy. You still haven't had your turn in the arena." Orson idly reminded, receiving a miserable whine in response to his words before redirecting his attention back to the two fighters. Even he was surprised the girl had somehow managed to get so incredibly sturdy since her opponent most likely also practiced some kind of body hardening according the brief glance of the guy's fists he had gotten before they started.

"What the fuck..." The commentator's stunned whisper was heard throughout the arena bringing everyone else out of their stupefied dazes. They had come expecting to see blood, however, the way their expectations were reached in this particular match was nothing short of bizarre.

"...Fight?"

Tian Long sluggishly reacted to a small flat voice inquiring curiously, his expression slack in a still lingering sense of shock as he shortly after found the girl's subtly expectant eyes staring at him from under her cross-guard a few seconds later, a head tilt following her question after a few moments of him not responding.

As a prolonged silence followed, Tian long remaining quiet throughout, Nana blinked and shortly understood after glancing at his stance which was currently showing her his resignation, hopelessness and something akin to despair, something she didn't understand but wasn't really bothered enough to find out either.

Giving her opponent another few moments to potentially recover his will to fight, she eventually determined his involuntary show of defeat in his body language wouldn't change anytime soon.

Which means he was now boring, she had been curious at first since the concept of using elaborate wind ups to increase the power of her strikes was something she hadn't seen to that extent before, it was unfortunate that he gave up in the middle of the fight for some reason.

Getting an idea, Nana abandoned the blocking posture and glanced behind her before she started walking towards the other side of the arena floor. Apparently she wouldn't be fighting a copy of herself which was a bit of a let down, however, she could still use the opportunity to sharpen her ability to improve on the fly. She felt like there was some sort of specific configuration that her mind had been conformed to, the feeling getting more and more apparent as she got older.

Her gut feeling was telling her that this was the reason for her rigid way of thinking something which was hindering her progress. She wanted to understand more about the martial arts she practiced, however, she had a hard time progressing in that direction since, unless it was explicitly explained to her in detail, she found it hard to draw her own conclusions about things.

She wanted to break out of, or through, that mold. Fortunately, she found that the more she tries thinking outside of what others have taught her, the more of her 'mind' would be able to reach out of the inflexible confines of the previous pattern at a time.

"I-It seems that Nana is walking away from Tian Long? What could she be planning now folks!?"

Nana stopped when there was about 15 meters of distance between her and Tian Long before she closed her eyes, a subtle, pondering expression appearing on her face as she contemplatively hummed to herself with a head tilted in thought, her figure beginning to gently rock back and forth on the balls of her feet a couple of minutes later.

"She's... What the fuck is she doing now? If you're trying to get out of killing your opponent you can forget it, you hear!?" The commentator who had by now somewhat recovered his wits shouted accusingly when she continued doing nothing at all, she looked like she was about to fall asleep or something. Did she really think that it would be so simple to escape their game? Or maybe he was just putting unreasonable expections on an idiot? Well, a strong idiot, but still.

She had to be the one to finish the match since her opponent was just dumbly standing in place, maybe his delusions getting popped shocked him so much he turned into a vegetable? Whatever the case, the match was dragging on just because the two of them were fucking weird and it was starting to get boring now that the wonder of the previous incident had passed somewhat.

Even his employers was starting to urge him to do something to make the event move on.

The girl seemingly ignored him, absorbed in her own world just like she was when she first appeared in the arena. He silently clenched his fists, grinding his teeth as he felt a vein popping on his forehead, he wasn't a calm person to begin with and she was continiously testing his temper with her bullshit.

Fortunately, just as he was about to scream into the mic to get her to move she eventually emerged from her daze by herself.

A pair of dull half-lidded black eyes encircled with an enchanting ring of vibrant green gazed at Tian Long's unmoving figure with a deceptively unfocused gaze for a few moments before Nana raised her arms to chest height entering an idle fighting stance, her hands in a relaxed state while her mind worked on a few last minute adjustments to what she wanted to do drawing inspiration from the countless examples of the coliseum fighters she had seen just moving around.

Done a few moments later Nana decided begin at a slow pace to better grasp the feeling, started out with simply taking a step forward whilst rotating her body along with the movement before she slightly hesitantly kept going with one foot after the other, a majority of her focus allocated to creating a continious chain of smoothly flowing forms keeping as much of the momentum as possible going primarily using her feet as pivots to rotate her body around with no particular direction in mind.

The world around her blurred as Nana went through the forms slowly getting a better feel for it. Tian Long's wind up technique to his punch had come at a convenient time since it was something she hadn't seen nor been taught about before, the style being almost completely different to what she was used to barring a few taekwondo kicks that shared a similar momentum gathering aspect.

It gave her the idea to create a technique of her own as far away as possible from what she already knew in an attempt to loosen more of her 'mind'. Even now, although she was slowly getting more and more familiar with the concept she wanted to realize, her mind was subtly working against her, wanting to see the technique performed by someone else to prove it's effectiveness before trying to replicate it herself, as it if wasn't possible unless someone else had already done it.

Nana stubbornly ignored it as she continued with her movements despite the nagging feeling that what she was currently doing would result in absolutely nothing, this was exactly what she wanted gone from her mindset.

It wasn't like already established martial arts disciplines had just always been there, they were also created by someone, improved and changed over countless hours, days, months, years since their initial creation.

When she felt that she had gotten fairly used to the concept of keeping a continious smoothly flowing series of movements going using her solely her feet, she was unfortunately interrupted by a loud mousy voice thundering through the arena.

"What the fuck are you doing now you retard!? I was quiet because I thought you were going to do something with a run up, but you're just going around in circles like a dog chasing it's own tail!" The commentator screeched into his mic, redfaced in anger as he restrained his urge to run in there throttle her himself.

"Go fucking kill the guy! Now! Stalling isn't gonna work! If he's not dead in the next minute, you're not gonna like what's coming next!" He demanded through gritted teeth as he intensely stared at the screen showing the arena, occasionally eyeing a blood red button on his desk.

It was apparently something that would introduce a bit of 'motivation' in case any of the participants flat out refused to comply with their rules.

Though he was also told to not press it unless he really couldn't do anything else, apparently there was a high chance the arena would be unusable in the aftermath of whatever it would do.

Nana unconcernedly ignored his threat. When receiving the intentions of others, she placed alot more importance on body language than actually hearing them speak out vocally and since she couldn't see the commentator, she subconsciously filtered his 'words' out as background noise, something that occasionally happened unless she was consciously focused on listening.

It was like trying to communicate with the average person purely using the subtle cues your body unconsciosly made to display your current mood, it just wouldn't work. The chance of them even catching onto it was pretty low all things considered unless, again, they were paying very close attention.

It was the same in Nana's case, just inversed.

Of course, if she recognized someone's voice she would probably pay more attention depending on her opinion of whoever they were.

"Lassie."

Hearing a deep rumbling voice calling out, Nana's mind quickly matched the voice with the person she met before her fight and idly remembered he had also called her 'lassie' meaning there was a decent chance of him calling out to her.

Slowly coming to a stop she looked back over her shoulder at the old man standing with crossed arms on the other side of the bars with a questioning look, inwardly noting that he did in fact intend to get her attention based on his posture.

"Best just to get it over with, no reason to continue the bout since your opponent seems to have went off to lala land. You'll get to return to the arena again considering you won, either way."

Nana blinked at him as she read his body. Although she didn't really know why there was a spark of concern mixed into his intent she didn't really see any reason to prolong the match either, she was just using the arena to practice since it was more spacious than the waiting area where she figured she'd most likely reappear if she were to end her opponent who was conveniently letting her practice in peace.

Though he was probably right about her getting to return to the arena she inwardly puzzled out as she thought about it. Since no one had won the 'tournament' yet, it probably won't finish anytime soon especially if all of the people in the waiting area was waiting for their turn as well.

Decision made, Nana walked over to Tian Long and gave him another look when she arrived in front of him. His state hadn't changed much externally, though he was currently mumbling something to himself over and over while looked down at his trembling damaged hands with wide glassy eyes.

Making a small noise in a bid to get his attention resulted in nothing, waving her hand in front of his face didn't help either.

Inwardly shrugging her shoulders Nana stared at him blankly before her knee suddenly shot up like an uncoiled spring insistently driving into his stomach like a battering ram making Tian Long seemingly snap out of his funk. A choked noise of pain escaped his throat along with all the air in his lungs as his body bent around her knee like a shrimp, his wide eyes frantically darting around in muddled confusion at the abrupt sensation a steel shaft slamming into his abdomen like it was shot out of a cannon.

Instinctively lashing out with an insidiously aimed blow at his attacker's kidney using his right hand despite it's damaged state, he was unfortunately stopped by an unnaturally firm hand grasping his wrist like a immovable iron claw, Tian Long was unable to free himself no matter how hard he struggled as the grip gradually tightened so much he was sure he heard it begin emitting a series of dangerous cracks and pops.

Before he had time to get his bearing back, the process very much hindered by his present agony and the lack of air he was currently trying to remedy with sharp haggard gasps, he felt his vision flash black along with another crack seemingly reverberating through his skull as a ruthless elbow smashed down onto his head further exacerbated by the unyielding knee propping up his slumped body.

Tian Long's previously fiercely struggling body suddenly slackened bonelessly, the blow had not only made his mind flash red from the massive amounts of pain, it also brought an enormous sense of disorientation, Tian Long almost feeling like he was a passenger in his own body as he feebly tried regaining control.

Unfortunately, his valiants attempts ultimately resulted in nothing as Nana continued hammering his head with a series of spear like elbows producing a constant stream of dull thuds which was eventually accompanied by wet squelches, Tian Long's response going from initially trying to weakly fight back against her to unresponsive a few moments later, unable to weather her onslought of blows.

Glancing down at her now dead opponent Nana retracted her knee and let his body go, the corpse lifelessly falling down onto the ground revealing the back of his head caved in and filled with a slurry of red and grey along with a handful of bone pieces intermixing together to form a nauseating concoction consisting of brain bits and bone.

Nana blinked as she felt something slide down her cheek and tried wiping it with her forearm only to make it worse, smearing her face with blood.

"...A-And we have our w-winner!" The commentator's shaky voice sounded with a frail timbre breaking through a heavy silence that hung over the arena in response to the gory display she had put on.

Although there had already been multiple matches in the arena prior to Nana's match, there was a stark difference between seeing people beat the shit out of each other until one of them croaked and getting a close up of what the inside of someone's pulverized brain looked like, most of the people watching receiving various levels of shock hence the prolonged period of silence as people processed what they had just seen.

Nana was once again enveloped by a swirl of blue pixels as the sound of people scattered through the arena losing their lunch was heard, reappearing back in the waiting room standing in her previous position.

A few people that had either moved over when the group had left previously or newly arrived there after accepting the invitation hastily scrambled to move away upon seeing her, practically climbing over each other to be the first as the area around Nana was quickly vacated like a bloodthirsty animal had suddenly spawned in.

Nana ignored them, unconcernedly remaining in her place while she started idly removing pieces of Tian Long that had stuck to her and started flicking them in random directions making everyone closest to her quickly take another few steps back in repulsion staring at the bloody chunks of flesh hitting the floor in nauseated horror.

One of the more unlucky people getting hit in the cheek with a disgusting splat, his face instantly going ghostly pale as he shakily reached up to touch it before he felt his stomach churn upon contact, turning around to dry heave as he processed having a piece of someone else stuck to him.

"I see you're not afraid of getting yourself dirty hmm, are you lassie?"

Orson slowly walked over with a shaken up James hesitantly trailing behind him, his state not much better than the guy who was just pinged with a piece of Tian Long. It wasn't like he hadn't seen gore before having watched many movies that most would be averse to due to all the blood and violence, however, it just wasn't in any way comparable to what he just experienced.

He was even beginning to slightly regret his decision to stick his nose where it didn't belong. Even if he couldn't have known how strong, and or how nonchalantly she could pulverize someone's skull without a change in expression, what if she had gotten annoyed with his meddling at the time?

Just imagining himself in Tian Long's place receiving multiple of those literally skull cracking elbows to the back of his head made him have to suppress a deluge of bile climbing up his throat.

A few thoughts of quickly getting away from the two terrifying people that didn't see caving someone's head in as a big deal idly floated around his mind before swiftly getting snuffed out when his rationality stepped in.

First off, he had already established himself as a part of the group to everyone else so if he left, he didn't know if he would be on the receiving end of the fear the two unintentionally inspired, since no one in their right minds would provoke them, he might be a good substitute to vent on.

Secondly? Well... it might be selfish of him, not that he currently cared, he was busy too being trapped in a death game, but despite the newfound sense of terror he now felt towards the two of them due to their newly discovered indifference to extreme violence, they represented the top of the current 'food chain'.

Clearly displayed by the large berth everyone was currently leaving them, not daring to get too close, and since he was also a part of the group, while he probably wasn't seen as a threat, just by association people would be less likely to mess with him.

After a prolonged internal debate between his morals and his desire to survive, he ruthlessly pushed away his pesky morals that didn't want to be grouped together with a pair of 'killers'.

If he was presented with the choice on a normal day he probably wouldn't have been as keen with the idea, most probably he would be repulsed by the mere notion, but the combination of his current circumstances and his quickly waning sanity wanting something to anchor him, something to stop him from going insane by stress was very receptive of the opportunity he had 'luckily' gotten.

He didn't think most others in the arena was in the mood for small talk, most of them were probably even more scared than him, he could imagine the feeling since he felt the same before Nana arrived. The feeling of everyone's eyes drifting over to you as a chilling sensation of ice cold dread flushed through your system, the feeling of constantly being in danger, constantly high-strung in anticipation of what may or may not come.

Other than those? If there were more people on Nana and Orson's level of... level of...

Whatever, power level.

He didn't want to meet them. He felt that the two of them were more reactive than active, almost apathetic with a faint sense of curiosity which was very much fine if you asked him. He really didn't want to imagine the two of them being actively aggressive...

Fuck, man... he just wanted to go home...

Seeing her blood covered visage Orson handed her a sturdy hankerchief he usually carried so she could at least wipe her face, the girl looked at his outstretched hand and his face alternatingly before lethargically grabbing it a few seconds later.

Idly noting that she seemed to have a delayed response time compared to when she was in the arena Orson watched as she ineffectively tried cleaning herself, somehow ending up looking more bloodied than before.

Though she was apparently satisfied enough and handed the blood soaked cloth back to him with a few traces of contentment on her flat crimson covered face.

Raising an eyebrow Orson replaced the handkerchief with a bottle of water instead. "Try this instead, lassie."

Apparently the creators of this game didn't really care enough to remove whatever items the participants had on them at the time of entry.

Receiving the bottle with a look of curiosity Nana gave him a questioning look prompting him to elaborate with a huff, even though she didn't really seem bothered by it.

"I think you know already, but being covered in dried blood isn't the most comfortable feeling in the world. We'll probably be here for a while yet, you may want to remove it before it hardens."

Not to mention the smell. Although it didn't disturb him as much as it did once upon a time, and thank fuck that most of his aversion eventually disappeared, a certain someone looked on the verge of being suffocated by the thick stench of iron wafting off of her and he didn't want the kid throwing up at their temporarily claimed 'spot'.

Nana let out an idle hum in thought while she simply opened the bottle and poured it on her head, the water slowly washing away the blood. The blood didn't bother her but it also wasn't anything she saw a point in not removing when the option presented itself, deciding to aquiesce after a few seconds of thought.

The commentator's voice announcing the next fighters was heard in the background making the three of them look over to see a pair of decently muscular people with expressions on the verge of a having a mental breakdown, their dilated pupils frantically darting around while their breaths emerged in rapid stuttered gasps.

Nana's eyes skimmed over their forms and quickly lost interest, Orson just sparing the two a dismissive glance while James felt a shiver run through his body. He was even worse off than the two of them. They were at least visibly fit while he would probably be out of breath after throwing a punch or two... if he even got the chance that is.

He was abruptly knocked out of his chilling thoughts by an even more immediate chill, letting out a high-pitched shriek as he felt a rain of something ice cold splattering his face and arms, his incredibly tense body practically jumping at the sensation as he instinctively shielded his face, ending up in an awkward, skewed posture.

Stumbling back he looked to the source and found Nana trying to shake away the water producing a barrage of droplets all around her, the pinks dropelts being a combination of water and blood which he was just pelted by.

Watching the pink drops sliding down his body, blinking incomprehensively as he remembered that he felt something entering his mouth when he was screaming just a few seconds ago, James' face immediately contorted before he quickly dashed away and hunched over by the arena's bars ejecting his stomach's content, his throat burning while his eyes watered.

When he was done, not managing to get anything else to come up no matter how much his stomach spasmed in defiance he just remained on all fours feeling completely mentally, physically and emotionally drained as a sense of numbness spread through him.

Mechanically wiping his mouth with his forearm, his body feeling like lead as a powerless feeling spread through it, he robotically walked back to the two other members of his group who had retaken their places, sitting down with their backs against the wall, and haphazardly collapsed beside them with a vacant, unearthly expression plastered on is face, just sitting there breathing dazedly. A pair of haunted eyes directed at the ceiling.

"I'm done with this shit for today."

"Chin up boy, it could've been worse."

Hearing the old man's rumbling voice James sent him a glance, seeing him watching the arena with a flat expression on his face, before going back to staring at the ceiling.

A small, small part of him upon hearing the plain words offered in a semblance of consolation wanted to rage, to shout, to scream at him that he knew nothing of what he was going through.

That someone like him couldn't possibly know of what he was currently feeling, constantly plagued with his impending digital death looming above his head, the feeling of everyone's eyes staring at him filled with malice and hostility, the overwhelming amount of stress imcomparable to anything he had experienced prior to this day.

The only thing that held him back was the crystal clear picture of the old man's eyes seared into his mind thanks to the amount of fear he had felt upon first looking into them, his temporarily newfound state of numbness allowing him to more rationally dissect the image finding an enormous amount of loss, desolation and weariness hiding behind their knife-like sharpness.

The sheer weight of his emotions making him feel like he was making a mountain out of a mole hill, but it wasn't like he could just decide to feel better and make his mind magically adjust itself to better handle such a stressful situation. If possible he very much would've liked something like that right about now.

Although he didn't think a larger negative automatically cancelled out a lesser negative, his barely clinging on sense of reason told him quite clear cut that it was outright useless to rage at the old man because of his own misfortune. It wasn't like he had any hand in their current circumstances, not to mention that he probably wouldn't even feel halfway as safe as he would without the old man allowing him to use him, and now Nana apparenly, as a deterrent against everyone else.

"...I guess it could..." A despondent, barely audible whisper left his lips as he wearily closed his eyes.

Regardless of everyone's state of mind the matches continued on unimpaired, the three of them seeing various different reactions to entering the arena from terror and stress induced delusion to excitement and exhilaration, some solely cowering in place and others aggressively pouncing on their opponents whether pushed by fear of their simulated death or a thirst for battle.

Though the latter were few and far in between, only amounting to less than a handful of people.

About a dozen matches later it was apparently Orson's turn to enter the arena, a small metallic cylinder hitting the ground below him and letting out a hiss, the giant of a man's silhouette first obscured by a thick cloud of smoke merely showing his shadowed figure present inside it before he disappeared from the spot.

Appearing in the arena Orson had a flat expression on his face and crossed his arms as he saw his opponent arriving opposite of him in a tornado of flames, the effect dispersing showed a person not too dissimilar to the majority of the people locked into the game.

Seeing who he was to go up against, the guy's eyes widened even further upon seeing the battle-hardened looking mountain of muscle placidly watching him dismissively.

"Oh, it seems one of our next participants had some pretty shitty luck on his side having to go up against an old man looking like he could bend steel with his bare hands!" The mousy voice once again announced grandly, a trace of glee present in his voice as his eyes locked onto the poor sap quaking in his boots with a look of terror plastered on his face.

"Would our fighters like to introduce themselves?" He questioned leadingly, a bit of venom injected in his voice remembering a certain someone ignoring him previously.

"M-My name is Terry Fyed." Terry shakily stuttered out, picking up on the announcers tone implicitly implying measures would be taken were he to refuse to play along.

"Mhmm, and what you do for work dude?"

"I-I work in accounting, sir."

"Uh huh that sounds fun, have you ever deliberately submitted misinformation of any kind?"

"N-No! Absolutely not, sir! I take my job very seriously!"

"Any family?"

"...I have a wife and kids, sir." Terry hesitated before reluctantly speaking up, not wanting to somehow get his family involved in this whole thing.

"Oh, wow. You're like a white-collar worker character template, you know that?"

"I-I... sir?"

"Well whatever, onto the next one. What's your story, old man?"

"My name is Orson Baros."

"..."

"That's all?"

"..."

"Hey, come on we're all friends here! At least give us a bit more, you probably served in the military right? Don't deny it, you're practically screaming hardass just standing there. So, how's it feel to see somone close to you suddenly die with no forewarning right in front of your eyes? Surely you've experienced it before, would you care to enlighten our audience of how it felt? Despair? Numbness? Sorrow? Rage? Hmm?" The commentator pushed on with a mocking, theatrical voice despite the old man's stoicity. A wide gleeful smile spreading on his face as he tried breaking his emotionless mask, to get a reaction.

He was unfortunately disappointed when the old man didn't as much as twitch in reponse to his words, a bored raised eyebrow directed at the air being the only sign of even having heard his words.

"Tsk. Anyway for this round I guess we have Mr. Template vs Mr. Fierce Muscly Military Man. Oh, how I wonder who will be our victor, I'm just bursting with tension as I eagerly await the results." The commentator drawled snidely as he rolled his eyes boredly. People steamrolling their opponents was fun the first few times before it lost it's excitement.

The sheer feeling of desperation people on the edge of death was capable of bringing forth was much more interesting since they tended to do something unexpected. Abandoning their morals and pre-concieved notions of what they saw as 'human' behavior in an impulsive fit fuelled by fear of the unknown forgetting in the moment that although it felt real, these schmucks would be just fine after their 'death'.

Well, physically fine at least... probably. Mentally? Well, who knows.

It lead to some curious aftermaths as they processed just what they had just done after they returned to the waiting area coated in the blood of someone else, whether clawing someone's eyes out or biting a chunk out of someone's throat it produced such interesting reactions.

[3]

[2]

[1]

[Fight]

As the match started Orson began walking towards his opponent with slow, measured steps, internally sighing to himself as he watched his opponent trying to hide his trembling body with no success, only making it stand out even more.

Arriving in front of him a few moments later, he looked down at his opponent who stood rooted in place. He had his eyes closed as he just waited there, shaking hands tightly clenched into fists as his breaths emerged in a sharp, panicked manner.

The thought of intentionally throwing the match had floated through his mind more than once, although he was now long since retired from service, his old vow and determination to serve and protect had come along with him.

Though it was quickly discarded since although he could throw the match, it wouldn't do his opponent any good considering it would result in him just re-entering the arena when it was his turn again.

It was better to just get it over with as fast and as painlessly as he could, there was a chance his next opponent wouldn't be as keen nor as empathetic of his plight as he was after all. Before the lass and the boy had arrived, he had seen a couple of matches where one of the participants decided torturing his opponent until he eventually bled out was a good idea.

Emerging from his thoughts he placidly glanced as his current opponent and started walking around him, snaking a thickly muscled arm around his throat behind putting him in a dangerous head-lock, his opponents shaking intensifying upon feeling his actions but didn't try breaking out of his hold.

"It'll be over in an instant."

Hearing a rumbling voice reassuring him from behind, Terry's shaking abated slightly. Although it didn't lessen his fear of something possibly going wrong with the technology and an eternal blackness greeting him on the other side instead of his warm home, he had also seen what some people in this demented game did to their opponents.

This was a pretty... he could only describe it as something resembling a 'secure' way to go, this was at least better than getting brutally beaten to death in his mind, the comparison of what could've been presenting him with a feeling of shaky relief as he waited for the old man to act.

"Thank you."

Orson heard the man whisper before, in an instant, the sound of his neck breaking resounded through the arena. Gently laying his body on the ground Orson soon disappeared with his porting animation while the commentator's voice was heard in the background.

"Oh, boohoo, what a sappy ass round that was. It's almost enough to bring a tear to my eyes... Well, it's not really but it sounded appropriate to say. We have our winner! It was the mountian of muscle covered in battle scars who'da thunk it, am I right folks?"

Appearing back in his previous spot Orson leisurely sat down inbetween Nana and James, the three of them hearing the commentator once again announce the next fight, remaining uninterested after a quick glance as a constipated silence hung over them.

Nana lost in her own world.

Orson not seeing the point of small talk unless initiated by someone else.

James having run out of reactions for the day, his energy at an all time low from all the stress, his eyes occasionally closing despite him trying to stay awake.

The next series of matches continued on, the screams of the participants almost starting to blend together into a muddled concoction of negativity as it went on.

After who knows how many matches however, James heart first skipped a beat before it started pumping a million miles an hour as a soft glow encompassed his body, darting upright as he looked on, almost feeling like a passenger in his own body, a feeling of disconnect somewhat muting his feelings. Almost feeling like what was currently happening wasn't real.

He felt his vision and hearing blurring together into a muffled mess a sense of vertigo hit him like a truck feeling like the world around him was spinning, his gaze stuck unbelievingly staring at his glowing hands.

It was happening, it was his turn on the chopping block... and he couldn't do anything about it.

As his thoughts spiralled further and further down a dark damp, bottomless black hole. His hearing cleared up when the commentator's mousy voice was broadcasted right next to him.

"And we're now entering the second phase of this game ladies and gentlemen! Different from the previous elimination stage, we're now grouping up people into teams consisting of from 2 to 10 people per team!" The commentator announced before the noise of paper sounded, a slight pause following as if he was reading the rules before speaking up again.

"How you're grouped up will be decided based on the proximity to the nearest participants, again up to 10 people per team, these teams will then go up against each other in a series of 1v1 battles until one of the teams run out of participants capable of entering the arena. Who you send out is up to each team to decide, a majority vote can be used to forcefully select the next participant if you can't reach a consensus by yourselves."

"A random member of each team will also be given the honor of deciding on your team's name. If you're confused about who is in your team specifically, you can call up a status board which will show their hp bars and names alongside the aforementioned voting option to allow each voter their anonymity."

"You have the next 3 minutes to decide your team name after which I will be announcing the two teams that received the oh so enviable position of going first. You will be allocated an extra 2 minutes from then on to decide on who will be sent out. Starting now!"

James' thoughts froze as he processed the commentator's words idly noting the glow receding from his body before quickly trying to call up the status board, his heart which had previously been beating in fear now giving birth to a slight hope according to how the teams were grouped together.

[Team - N/A]

James - [HP] 100% [Volunteer] - [Insist]

Nana - [HP] 100% [Nominate]

Orson - [HP] 100% [Nominate]

Seeing the names clearly displayed just below his, James' body weakly collapsed back down to the ground as a massive sense of relief washed over him. His scrambled state of mind injected with excitement upon first being doused in the cold flames of hell before being dragged up to the heavens in the span of a few seconds.

He felt like he had been on the verge of a heart attack due to stress when he thought he was about to enter the arena just now.

Thanking his lucky stars at his luck finally turning around, a surge of tiredness suddenly washed over his body like a tidal wave, this team phase couldn't have arrived at a better time.

Glancing at his newfound teammates he noted that they didn't particularly react to the sudden change in format, the two of them still wearing the flat expressions that he was by now sure were just their neutral faces.

"So... a name, huh? Do you guys have any ideas? My mind's kinda blanking right now." James started as he wrung his hands together in restlessness feeling a second wind coming in and keeping his mood afloat thanks to the security the two of them provided. He just hoped he didn't read them wrong, having a slight suspicion of him having to sit out the rest of the matches.

Something he was very much fine with doing, he was even ready to cheer them on if they wanted him to.

Orson let out a slight hum of indifference resembling a deep growling noise, he didn't really have an opinion as long as it wasn't something so outrageously stupid it would hurt to look at while Nana didn't seem to have heard him, still directing a vacant stare into the arena.

"Uh, well I guess I could just try pitching a few and you guys just speak up if any of them sound good to you?"

Receiving an uncaring silence in response to his offer James forced out an awkward laugh in a bid to dispell the suffocating atmosphere as he scratched at his temple pulling names from various media he had consumed the last few years.

"How about The Lookmen?"

"..."

"No? Alright mmm maybe The Marvelous Three?"

"The Revengers?"

"The Attackers?"

"The N-Force? I mean we could also do O-Force or J-Force too if you think that sounds better but Nana will probably be the one fighting the most..."

"The Unbelievables?"

"Judgement League?"

"Aotsuki?"

"Turtle Tail?"

"The Skill Rangers?"

James had a concentrated look on his face as he tried coming up with more suggestions on the spot, rattling off a bunch of them each time he remembered something he hadn't proposed before. This continued for about a minute straight, dozens of iconic teams being named but ignored as it got harder and harder to recall team names despite the veritable sea of entertainment and media he had consumed.

His efforts unfortunately amounted to nothing as just when he was about to name another team, he saw a system window appear in front of Nana asking for a team name. Though it didn't stay for long since she, without even looking at it, instantly slapped the left most button present on the lower half of the interface reading [Submit] the second it appeared making the status board he had left floating beside him flunctuate slightly before stabilizing again, now sporting a small change.

[Team - Input Name]

James - [HP] 100% [Volunteer] - [Insist]

Nana - [HP] 100% [Nominate]

Orson - [HP] 100% [Nominate]

James just stared at the newly minted name of their team as a spark of resignation appeared in his chest resulting in a sigh escaping him, he had been kinda excited to choose something really badass and intimidating but apparently a certain someone liked skipping past instructions.

"Well... I guess that decides it then..." He muttered despondently before a quiet whisper filled with disappointment subconsciously escaped under his breath. "Not that we can change it either way..."

Orson upon hearing him also brought up the status board and raised an eyebrow seeing the name, a slight huff emerging from deep within his chest as a feeling of amusement sprouted inside him. The girl's impulsive behavior once again reminding him of memories he had long since buried. Despite their starkly different personalities, the longer he spent with the girl the more similarities he unconsciously noted in their general behavior.

He didn't know if he was lucky or unlucky to meet someone that so constantly brought up his old friend to the forefront of his mind, it was both bitter and sweet at the same time.

"Aaand that's time up! We're kicking things off straight away with team [Slither Docks] going up against... huh?" The commentator started before his speech abruptly cut off while he let out a noise of confusion, the broadcast going silent for a few seconds as if he was checking something before he eventually returned, his voice having taken on a completely bewildered quality.

"Which retards named their team [Input Name]?" He ridiculed mockingly. "Hold on, lemme check real quick."

The voice seemingly disappeared for another few moments before James noticed him Nana and Orson's figures beginning to flash intermittently, a soft glowy effect coating their bodies like beacons of light.

"..."

"Oh, it's you... of course it's you. I would say I'm surprised, except I'm totally not. Only you, man. Only you I swear. Oh, hey! You're in a team with Mr. Military man and... who the fuck is that? James...? Another lucky loser that escaped a go in the arena solo, huh?"

"Whatever, as I said. We're starting things of with team [Slither Docks] vs... pfft, team [Input Name]." Hearing the commentator being unable to hold back a chuckle James felt a bit of heat climbing onto his face, self-consciously directing a subtle glance around their group and seeing a few of the people nearby snickering to themselves while ponting a mocking gaze their way.

Doing his best to ignore them he turned back to his newfound team, hesitantly throwing out a question while he subconsciously shrunk slightly as he waited for their response. Doing his utmost to display that he really didn't want anything to do with the arena, best case scenario being that he never even had to enter it until this whole thing ended.

"So... who wants to go first?"