Babylon (Part 2)

Space itself is a form of immense power.

As Asher disembarked from the transport ship and stood in the wide expanse of the port plaza, he deeply felt this truth. Fully armed soldiers maintained order around the square, and behind their human wall were the onlooking citizens of Babylon. These privileged inhabitants of the floating island eagerly watched the children emerge from the escort ships, greeting them with cheers and applause.

A total of 22 escort ships docked at the Liberty Goddess Port, which for today was exclusively open for the Death Arena participants. Asher saw around twenty youths around his age descending from their ships. Like him, most were awestruck by the scene before them and remained rooted to the spot.

Yet, a few youths smiled and waved back at the Babylonian elites, some even blowing kisses, which only amplified the cheers.

At that moment, a massive shadow fell across the square, and looking up, Asher saw a dirigible. Its streamlined body was suspended below a rectangular metal gondola. On either side of the gondola were large screens showing the welcoming scene at the port.

"That's the Death Arena Committee's live broadcast. Don't mind them. They always do the same old thing—utterly uncreative," Totonis nudged Asher, "Let's go, darling. Time waits for no one."

At the plaza's exit, a line of land skimmers was parked. They were also powered by cubic energy and driven by anti-gravity engines. They resembled massive dragonflies, with streamlined bodies and stabilizing bars at the rear, flanked by flaps and control blades that acted like rudders to change direction.

Each skimmer had only two seats and was provided for the escorts and contestants to travel to the designated training bases for the final month of preparation. Totonis escorted Asher to one marked with the number "13." Asher was about to sit when Totonis insisted he stand, "You need to stand so they can see you. Listen, darling, the competition may start in a month, but the battle with the other kids has already begun. Trust me, you need to make a good impression. The more people like you, the more advantageous it will be for you later."

The skimmers started up one by one, with stabilizing wings extending from the sides and power units activating below. With the anti-gravity engines engaged, the vehicles smoothly rose, hovering 20 centimeters above the ground before turning and exiting the port in an orderly fashion.

The convoy followed the route designated by the organizers, with the steam dirigible following overhead. The large screens featured two hosts, a man and a woman, who introduced the youths from various administrative districts to the Babylonian citizens with humorous commentary. Along the way, the youths on the skimmers received a rousing roadside welcome from the island's elite.

They cheered, shouted, and pointed at the passing youths, critiquing them openly.

Despite Totonis's insistence that Asher smile, the young man found it impossible. After the initial shock, he noticed the Babylonians were all in high spirits, but their eyes didn't show an ounce of friendliness. They looked at him more like a rare animal. Perhaps for these privileged citizens, he and the others were just entertainers on a stage, and they were the audience eager for a grand performance.

Yes, an audience! They stood there to welcome the surface youths to the floating island, merely as tools for an early show. As for the life and death of these tools, they couldn't care less. Perhaps the death of a cat or dog might sadden them for a while, but surface dwellers were worth even less than their pets.

Seeing Asher's stoic expression, Totonis sighed.

Then, from the sky above, the dirigible's hosts said, "That's Lucen from District 12, such a bad temper. Let's hope he performs better going forward. Now, let's look at the contestant from District 13. Hm, his name is Asher... Oh, my. What a special boy."

The screen switched to show Asher standing in the skimmer. His face was devoid of a smile, his lips tightly pressed, and there was even a hint of anger in his eyes. Yet, his well-fitting attire, handsome features, and unique silver hair caused the Babylonian citizens to gasp in admiration.

The host continued, "As you can see, our dear Asher. My goodness, if the data on hand didn't confirm he's from District 13, I would never believe this young man came from the surface. I'd rather believe he's a young master from some noble family, look at that demeanor, and that noble hair color. Can you believe it? He actually comes from the surface?"

As the host's words fell, the citizens on both sides of the road erupted.

"How is that possible? Are you sure you're not mistaken? How could such a beautiful boy come from the garbage-filled surface?"

"My God, could he be some young master who accidentally ended up on the surface?"

"The organizing committee should thoroughly investigate this. There's no way a surface dweller could have such noble qualities!"

Amid these loud discussions, even young women were screaming, "I love you, Asher."

On the skimmer, Asher's expression turned even grimmer. "They're so noisy," he muttered under his breath.

Totonis, however, laughed, "The noisier they are, the better for you, darling."

Back on the dirigible, the hosts added, "Folks, our little Asher has quite a unique story. Did you know, his number was originally meant for a chubby boy named Bess. But Bess's father had Asher take his son's place and sent our little Asher away. Of course, that father and son have since received their due punishment. But after Lieutenant Ronan discovered this, he gave Asher a chance. He could have chosen to leave, but our young master chose to stay. What courage!"

The dirigible's screen inserted a clip of the Hern father and son being executed, and the host concluded, "Let's look forward to Asher's upcoming performance."

A pocket watch slid across the smooth floor.

In a corner of the floating island, a room's wall was projecting the live broadcast of the welcoming scene, featuring Asher's youthful face. Someone paused the broadcast and stared transfixed at the young man in the image. After a moment, he slumped back onto a gray sofa, defeated.

He picked up the pocket watch from the floor, which contained a photograph. The photo showed a girl, about twelve or thirteen years old, with a defiant expression on her delicate face, her demeanor, and appearance strikingly similar to Asher's.

"Ten years old? Or eleven? Either age fits the timeline perfectly. And that face, oh my... Loretta, could he be your child?"

The man rang a silver bell on the table, and shortly after, a person resembling a butler entered. Pointing at the screen, the man demanded, "I want a genetic comparison with this child!"

"Compared to whom?" the butler asked cautiously.

"Me!"

The butler bowed his head, "Sir, the committee will not allow outsiders access to these children."

"I don't care what method you use, just get it done! Otherwise, you're fired!" The man roared, his tone brooking no argument.

"I understand," the butler nodded and backed out of the room.

The man sat back down, clutching his head in agony, "How could this be? If he really is Loretta's child, how can I save him from that hell? I was such a fool. If I had known you'd be so stubborn, I wouldn't have stopped you back then. At least then you'd still be by my side, Loretta, my child..."

He gazed mournfully at Asher's image on the wall, moaning, "God, please don't do this to me. I've already lost one loved one; please don't make me lose another. If he is indeed..."

Unbeknownst to Asher, someone was in agony over his appearance, but all he knew was that when the automatic doors of the training base closed behind him, his ears were blessed with peace. The base building had 23 floors, each historically used for the Death Arena contestants' training in the month before the competition. During that month, each would receive individual guidance from a mentor, honing their skills to increase their chances of survival in the upcoming battles.

Each level corresponded to an administrative district, and the top floor was used by the organizing committee's office, also serving as a place for periodic inspections of the contestants from each district.

Watching Totonis stride ahead with the gait of a model, Asher suddenly felt the lieutenant's presence less annoying. At least he didn't look at Asher like the Babylonian citizens did—as if he were just an entertaining tool. Totonis took little Asher to the 13th floor, and as the elevator doors opened, the scent of strong alcohol wafted from the corridor.

"I forgot to tell you, Hudson is a bit of a drunkard," Totonis said, tapping the corridor floor with his glamorous high heels before entering a code on an electronic door. The automatic doors slid open to reveal a spacious area.

Right at the entrance was a dining area, with Asher noting the long dining table and neatly arranged chairs, alongside a refrigerator, a wine cabinet, and even an open kitchen. Further back was the training area, spacious enough to accommodate various equipment. In the corner of the southern wall was a weapons rack, filled with firearms and bladed weapons.

At the far end were several rooms, likely for the contestants and mentors to rest.

A man lay sprawled across the dining table, surrounded by a few empty bottles. His hand resting on the table still clutched a half-empty bottle of whiskey. The amber liquid flowed from the tilted bottle, forming a small puddle on the floor.

"Oh, Mr. Hudson. Damn it, Major, you've gotten yourself drunk again!" Totonis shrieked, striding over to shake the man awake.

The man slept like a dead pig, unresponsive to Totonis's shaking. The lieutenant, frustrated like a tantrum-throwing woman, suddenly grabbed the bottle and waved it under the man's nose. Suddenly, the man jolted awake, shouting, "Good booze, such fragrant booze! Give it to me, give it to me!"

"Mr. Hudson, you're finally awake," Totonis returned the bottle to him.

Without another word, the man grabbed the bottle and drained the remaining whiskey before belching, "Ah, it's you, Totonis. Weren't you on vacation?"

"Mr. Hudson, I went to the surface to fetch someone. Surely you haven't forgotten that the new Death Arena begins in a month?"

"Of... of course." The man yawned, "The committee bastards asked me to mentor a kid, promising me a case of top-tier Volcanic Beauty after the competition ends. That's the fine wine from the Adahua star, how could I miss that?"

"Thank God you haven't drunk yourself silly. Well, this is your mentee. From District 13, his name is Asher." Totonis gestured for Asher to come over.

Asher approached.

Finally, he could see clearly: the man was in his fifties. But Asher swore he had never seen such a robust old man. Wrinkles had climbed up his face, and his eye bags were tinged green from years of drinking. Yet his body was as burly as a bear, even Ronan seemed thinner by comparison. When he fully stood up, he was like a mountain, and Asher was utterly engulfed in his shadow!

Strangely, Totonis had said that Hudson was a major general. Logically, his Source Energy should be more formidable than Ronan's. Yet on his person, Asher couldn't detect a trace of Source Energy glow. Meanwhile, the pale green luminescence on Totonis confirmed that Asher's ability to perceive it hadn't failed.

"Is this the kid? Looks decent enough. Let me see what you've learned in Ronan's kennel," Hudson extended his large hand toward Asher's forehead.

Asher instinctively stepped back, but somehow, his forehead was still caught by Hudson's hand. Hudson's palm began to heat up, and that's when Asher realized that the old man not only possessed Source Energy but that its glow was incredibly bright. It was like a miniature sun rising within him, and Asher couldn't help but close his eyes.

"Hmm, you've already refined four Source Energy vortices. And in just four months? The attributes of your Source Energy... too weak to be discerned for now. But the potential is decent, wait a minute..."

Hudson, who initially appeared drowsy, suddenly swept away his lethargy, his eyes sharpening.

Totonis stood by, seemingly sweating bullets for Asher. Seeing Hudson's sudden change in expression, the lieutenant nervously asked, "What's the matter?"

Hudson released Asher, his gaze turning strange, then looked at Totonis and said, "Are you sure you haven't fetched the wrong person?"

"Of course not!"

"Then this kid doesn't need my guidance."

"Why not?" the lieutenant pressed.

Hudson turned back to a bewildered Asher and explained, "Someone has used Source Energy to bind him internally, as you should know. A person with internal Source Energy binding cannot even construct a single genetic circuit. Such a person, even with my guidance, would be futile. Participating in the competition would be tantamount to suicide!"