Battle royale

"And you think you can force me to do something?" I questioned, as Sam held my collar firmly. The situation was tense, but I couldn't help finding humor in the attempt of intimidation.

Sam, with his eyes loaded with fury and frustration, finally let go of my collar and asked, "What do you want in order to tell me who the demons are" His voice brought a mix of desperation and determination.

Internally, I evaluated Sam's proposal. The possibility of revealing the infiltrated demons and changing the course of events was tempting, but the consequences could be disastrous. It was like being on a straight road, knowing that ahead there was a devastating flood. We could divert by a shortcut, but at what cost? Every action has a reaction, and the butterfly effect is always an unknown.

If we started to eliminate the infiltrated demons, this could trigger a violent response from the high-ranking demonic. And, if a Knight of Hell decided to intervene, we would be in a practically unsustainable situation with our current powers. Facing such an opponent would be suicidal.

With an ironic smile and a penetrating look fixed on Sam's red eyes, I let out: "I don't want anything."

The surprise was evident on Sam's face. He expected a negotiation, a deal, something typical of a mercenary, but the reality was different. Sam wondered what Dean's true purpose was in a hero academy.

With a carefree air, I put my hands on my waist and said, laughing: "I have my own plans, and you, with all this haste, would only get in the way." I made a dramatic pause before continuing: "But don't worry, they will die… just at the right time."

Curiosity and frustration mixed in Sam's look as he asked: "When?"

I answered with simplicity, keeping the enigmatic expression: "At the end." My tone was light, but loaded with hidden meanings, making it clear that I had control over the situation.

"If you'll excuse me, I'm going to enjoy the rest of the morning to sleep," I announced, passing by Sam, leaving him with his frustrated expression. My step was calm, as if I had all the answers and no weight on my shoulders.

I heard Sam's voice, still permeated by doubts, reaching me: "How can I trust you? How do I know that your plans won't harm innocent people?"

Without turning around, I raised my hand in a gesture of farewell and answered with indifference: "You don't have to trust, if you don't want to." My voice echoed with a cold confidence, indicating that, for me, that conversation was already over.

---

Sam watched Dean walk away, a whirlwind of thoughts in his mind. "This guy… is an enigma," he whispered to himself, a perplexed expression on his face.

His investigation after the dungeon revealed that Dean was classified as class G by the academy, but something told him that there was more behind that facade.

"Investigate Dean's power level for me," Sam requested his system, his curiosity increasing.

[Analyzing Dean Carleone's energy. Classification detected: class E], the system informed with its robotic voice.

"Class E?" Sam was surprised by the revelation. "Why did this information never come to light before?"

[The information is only revealed upon specific request], the system replied, keeping its neutral tone.

Sam sighed, frustrated with the system. He pondered over the newly discovered information, feeling a growing discomfort. "A class G student who is actually class E? Dean is clearly hiding his true strength," he muttered to himself, his mind working quickly to put the pieces together.

He walked slowly, lost in his thoughts. "What would Dean gain by hiding his true level? And why is he in the academy if he acts so… atypically?"

[Do you want me to keep monitoring Dean Carleone's actions?] the system asked, its impersonal voice echoing in Sam's mind.

Sam nodded, determined. "Yes, keep an eye on him. The more we know about Dean, the better. Something tells me he is a key piece in this puzzle."

He stopped, looking at the sky. "Dean Carleone, who are you really?" The question hung in the air, unanswered. Sam knew that unraveling the mystery behind Dean would not be easy, but he was ready for the challenge. The cat and mouse game had begun, and Sam was determined to find out the truth.

---

The afternoon was so hot that even the sun seemed to need a rest. After my tête-à-tête with Sam, I decided that a nap was the best antidote for the drama. While the rest of the class sweated in training, I dedicated myself to the noble art of doing absolutely nothing. And who can blame me? In my book, sleeping is practically an Olympic sport.

Anyway, walking through the campus, excitement and a pinch of sarcasm accompanied each of my steps. The reason? The virtual reality class. Hours before, my cell phone - a technological relic in this world, but practically a cheap toy here - vibrated with the message from the Pentagon. "Location of the next class: Virtual Reality Room." Ah, these devices! Capable of running games that, in my world, would require a NASA supercomputer. And no, before you ask, I don't spend my day playing… just a considerable part of it.

Finally, I arrive at the building where the class will take place. A modern building, tinted yellow, standing out like a sun among the academic constructions. As I enter, a robotic voice announces the floor of the activity. I ignore the crowd of students around - there are always those who seem lost even with clear information.

I follow the instructions of the impersonal voice, already imagining the possibilities of virtual reality. "Who knows what this advanced technology has in store for me? Maybe something more exciting than these little games on my cell phone." With an ironic smile, I go up to the indicated floor, ready to dive into an experience that, hopefully, will be worth interrupting my precious sleep.

As I entered the virtual reality room, I was greeted by a spectacle of vibrant colors, a kaleidoscope of purples and yellows that danced on the walls and ceiling. The chairs, more like luxurious armchairs, were equipped with virtual reality glasses, exotic and inviting. The room was already populated by students, some in lively conversations, others immersed in their own worlds. Professor Lizy was also present, with her always impeccable posture.

As my eyes slid across the room, making a mental inventory of the attendees, my thoughts wandered. "Where were the protagonists of this theatrical play that is academic life?" My eyes found Sam and Diana, united by some inaudible dialogue, but Ellie was notably absent. "Intriguing…"

Lost in my thoughts and observations, a feminine and melodious voice interrupted my analysis. "Good morning, Dean." The voice came from my right side. I turned, curious and somewhat surprised, to find Chloe. Her black hair fell gracefully over her shoulders, and her purple eyes had an intensity that captured attention. Her elegance was undeniable, a presence that combined cunning and charm.

"Ah, good morning, Chloe," I replied with a kind smile and a slight nod of my head. "Always a pleasure to meet such a charming and mysterious lady in these academic corridors." My tone was of refined courtesy, mixed with a pinch of playful malice.

Chloe, with her characteristic cunning and an innate ability to navigate the social complexities, was undoubtedly the most intriguing among the main characters. Although she was the weakest physically, her intelligence and wit more than compensated. Money and reputation were her pillars, and she played this game masterfully. Her unexpected approach raised the question: what did she want from me?

Returning my smile with one of equal caliber, Chloe commented: "I say the same, Dean." Her gaze briefly shifted in the direction of Professor Lizy before continuing. "It seems that we will take the test in trio, but we will be in pair, since our third member, unfortunately, was one of the victims in the dungeon."

"Ah, yes, Michael, that was his name, wasn't it?" I reflected aloud, trying to remember. "But tell me, where were you during all this chaos? You weren't in the dungeon, as far as I know." The question came out naturally, as if we were comfortably immersed in a long friendship. That was the magic of Chloe - she had the gift of making any conversation seem intimate and familiar, a talent that she manipulated with skill and charm.

With a smile that mixed charm and calculation, Chloe fixed her purple eyes on my blue ones. There was a cunning gleam there, a clarity that revealed her perspicacity. "Information is money, and money is power, Dean. I'm curious about how much the answer to your question would be worth."

The answer made me laugh softly. "I think I'll let this one pass, Chloe. I'm saving for a trip, you know how it is."

Her smile widened, and she tilted her head slightly. "A trip, is it? And where does the mysterious Dean Carleone plan to go?"

I returned the smile, entering the word game that she skillfully led. "Ah, look at that, we are at an impasse. Information is money, and money is power. How much will this information be worth to my charming colleague Chloe?"

Chloe let out a melodious laugh, her purple eyes sparkling with cunning. "It seems that information is a valuable bargaining chip for you too."

Looking at her, I realized that Chloe was a born player. She had probably already collected a complete dossier on me, weighing every word she said with the precision of an experienced negotiator.

"Business, of course," I replied with a slight smile. "The academy likes to test us, doesn't it? Putting us against each other in virtual reality. A safe way to duel, without the risk of permanent injuries."

Chloe nodded, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. "Exactly, it's all a preparation for the Pentagon Festival. You know, the fight between the students will be the highlight of the event. Everyone is eager to participate, to show their skills." Her voice had a tone of curiosity as she turned to me. "And you, Dean? Will you join the competition?"

She gave me a sideways glance, clearly evaluating my words. "It's a rare opportunity. To show skills, to gain recognition. Everyone will be watching." Her gaze intensified. "Including the guilds."

"Ah, yes, the famous guilds." I nodded, pretending to consider. "But you know, Chloe, I prefer a more discreet lifestyle. Let's leave the spotlight for the heroes and the rising stars." I smiled, and there was a mocking gleam in my eyes.

Chloe laughed softly, and it was clear that she was not completely convinced. "We'll see, Dean. We'll see." She turned to the front, her posture elegant and confident.

As the room quieted down, everyone's attention turned to Professor Lizy. She began to detail the rules of the next activity in virtual reality, and I, along with the other students, listened attentively.

The activity promised to be an intense experience. We would be divided into teams and placed in a virtually reconstructed city, with an aspect of abandonment and destruction. In each team, one of us would be designated as the leader. The task? Simple and challenging: to eliminate the leaders of the rival teams. The fall of a leader would mean the elimination of his entire team. For each leader defeated, the winning team would receive a point.

The maximum time for the test was one hour, but there was an intriguing detail: if a team managed to eliminate all the others before the time expired, the test would end immediately. And that team, the last one standing, would receive a special bonus.

As Lizy detailed the rules, my thoughts turned to the dynamics between the characters. "Blake, now with one arm less, and his ego probably wounded. Interesting," I murmured softly, with a slight air of amusement. I watched Blake from afar, noticing his different posture, less confident, more calculating. "Does he still have that thirst to prove himself to be the best? Or did the loss change his game?"

My gaze shifted to Sam, who seemed to be in a world of his own, focused and determined. "In the original story, the rivalry between them was the highlight, but now, with Blake altered… Will we have a direct confrontation or something more subtle?" I pondered, intrigued by the possible variations in the plot.

My smile widened as I thought about the opportunities. "Being next to Chloe, the master of manipulation, only makes things more interesting." I looked at her, who seemed calm and confident, no doubt already plotting her own plans. "Let's see how the 'heroes' deal with the challenges today. In the meantime, Chloe and I can just… enjoy."

[...]

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