"Ten, nine… one! Contestant 2558 wins."
"You can now proceed to the 20th floor." Luci handed a ticket to the victor.
The ticket could be used to claim prize money on the corresponding floor and also served as registration for further matches.
The spectator seats erupted with cheers.
A match that suddenly turned the tables like this was unexpected but thrilling for the audience.
Some spectators loved watching the underdog triumph.
"Thank you!" Contestant 2558 said gratefully.
As for the defeated fighter, Sky Arena staff promptly carried him off the arena, arranging for basic medical care.
This level of support was in place to prevent excessive casualties, which could deter participants.
Luci continued refereeing. Unlike the first match, the subsequent ones featured ordinary fighters.
Most ended in under three minutes.
Some fighters didn't even need to score ten points, as their opponents would surrender immediately.
He didn't even need the full morning to complete his assigned matches.
Since his goal was to familiarize himself with the job, he applied to observe the 50th floor.
"You want to go to the 50th floor?" Martha, the referee guiding him, asked in surprise. She knew Luci's background and hadn't expected him to request a floor transfer on his first day.
"You know that moving to a higher floor requires passing an assessment, right?"
A referee's salary at Sky Arena was tied to the floor—the higher the floor, the higher the pay.
The assessment tested combat ability, requiring candidates to either defeat or hold their own against an examiner.
"That's fine. I'm ready for the assessment," Luci replied.
For most referees, advancing wasn't so easy. They typically needed to accumulate work experience on their current floor before qualifying for an assessment.
But Luci was different—the adopted son of a head referee.
"Wait here. I'll arrange it." Martha made a call to set things up.
She then led Luci to the 57th floor.
The referee assessment area.
Sky Arena, a massive enterprise, employed tens of thousands of staff.
Luci's arrival drew attention, with staff whispering among themselves.
His young age as a referee made him a topic of discussion among the staff.
Luci's identity was easily recognizable, and stories of his adoptive father, Barn Frank, were legendary.
While the title of head referee might not mean much to some, Barn's inspiring journey was admired by many, even idolized.
Starting as an ordinary person, he rose step by step to become a head referee and a Sky Arena administrator—an inspiring tale.
Luci paid no attention to their whispers.
Soon, it was his turn.
"Luci Felix? I'm curious why you use the surname Felix," the examiner asked, echoing a common question among those who knew Luci's and Barn's identities.
Why didn't Luci, as an adopted son, use the surname Frank?
"Is answering that question part of the assessment?" Luci countered.
"Not exactly charming, are you?" The examiner, a man in his forties, chuckled.
"But as Barn Frank's son, your martial arts skills must be impressive, right?" He was confident in this.
Without underestimating Luci's age, he launched an attack.
Luci dodged without counterattacking, his Sharingan already activated.
A jujutsu style?
This examiner's skill wasn't just at the 50th-floor level—likely above the 100th floor.
Sky Arena was a fighting industry, naturally filled with martial artists from various schools. Even those who weren't martial artists themselves could work there if they were related to one.
Sky Arena's existence relieved many martial artists of survival concerns.
As a new referee, Luci wasn't yet aware of the factions among referees.
There were divisions between independent referees and those from martial arts schools, as well as among the schools themselves.
Many high-ranking referees were martial artists from these schools.
It carried a hint of class solidification.
Combat depended on several factors, which Luci categorized as physical fitness, reaction speed, and fighting experience.
As for martial techniques, unless they involved profound, almost mystical martial intent, most relied on physical fitness for support.
With strong physical fitness, even without techniques or experience, one could still win.
A classic example was Gon in the anime, who reached the 200th floor with just his push technique.
Luci's physical fitness was, of course, exceptional.
After dodging for a while, Luci began engaging directly, though still in a defensive stance, analyzing the examiner's techniques through physical clashes.
The examiner initially tried to overpower Luci with strength but soon realized his strength was inferior to the twelve-year-old's.
He switched to joint-locking techniques.
But Luci's reaction speed was remarkable, breaking free with raw strength even when a lock seemed possible.
Is this what a genius is?
The examiner thought of his fellow disciples, some labeled as geniuses, but they paled in comparison to Luci.
He stopped the fight.
"With your strength, you could easily referee above the 150th floor." This signaled the end of Luci's assessment.
"Thank you for the guidance!" Luci said gratefully.
His combat experience was limited, mostly honed through dodging during spars with his adoptive father.
"With your talent, you shouldn't be a referee—you should be fighting in matches," the examiner suggested.
"No, I'm not ready yet. I still need to build my foundation. Refereeing suits me for now," Luci replied.
The examiner paused, then nodded. "I see. That's a fitting path for you."
He recalled Barn Frank's rise to fame.
Barn started as a Sky Arena contestant, became a referee, resigned to compete again, reached the 200th floor, endured its trials, and then returned to refereeing.
Observing martial artists' fights as a referee?
That seemed like a solid "training" path.
The examiner's own martial arts passion, once dulled by his perceived lack of talent, began to stir again.