Dillion moved first.
One second, he was standing fifteen feet away, arms loose at his sides. Next, his fist was an inch from Judas's face. There was no telegraphing, no pause, just sheer impossible speed.
Judas's body reacted before his mind caught up.
Time to really test this ability.
[PHANTOM STEP ACTIVATED]
He blinked backward three feet, Dillion's knuckles cutting through empty air, leaving a trace of fire behind the arc.
"Oh?" Dillon's eyes widened slightly, finding Judas. "Spatial movement. For a D rank, that's not a bad early game ability."
He vanished again, and in an instant, a sharp bone-cracking pain spread throughout Judas's ribs. His feet found nothing but air as he was sent flying across the ring. He crashed into the reinforced walls of the Sanctum training room hard enough to send tiny cracks into the padding.
[VITALITY 10/13]
"You're not fighting back," Dillion observed, circling Judas like a shark. "Why?"
"Because," Judas grunted, straightening up despite the pain flaring through his body. "I'm trying to figure you out first."
"Smart, but you don't have time for that."
Another punch. This one Judas saw coming, activating Phantom step again, blinking to Dillion's left. He threw a wild haymaker at the man, but Dillion caught his fist without even looking.
"Better," he said. "But still garbage."
He twisted Judas's arm behind his back and slammed him face-first into the ground, the impact rattling his teeth.
[VITALITY 7/13]
He's holding back his strength. I'm one shot away from dying if this guy actually took me seriously...
Judas groaned, tasting blood and humiliation in equal measure.
"Tell me something, kid." Dillion kept him pinned with one hand, not even straining. "How'd you beat Marcus King?"
"Luck," Judas spat.
"Bullshit. Marcus is A-rank. Experienced. Connected. You're a week-old nobody." Dillion leaned closer, pressing more weight on Judas's back. "So, you must be hiding something."
My guide is an SSR-ranked terror that could probably put up a fight against anyone in this building. But how much am I okay with Evie knowing?
[USER STRESS DETECTED: CHAOTIC MOTION PASSIVE - ACTIVATED]
Judas's arms trembled, blurring with movement, as his body vibrated under Dillion.
"Maybe I'm just stubborn," Judas insisted, finding himself free from Dillion's grip, as he rose to stand on his two glitching legs. He braced his hands on both of his knees, eyeing the S-ranked hunter with determination.
"Use your abilities," Dillion commanded. "Whatever you've got. Show me."
"Okay." Judas straightened his back. "I place a bet. Coin Flip."
The translucent coin materialized above his head, spinning lazily.
[BET ACTIVATED: COIN FLIP]
[SUCCESS CHANCE: 80% (50% base + 30% luck)]
[ROLLING...]
Dillion watched with mild interest. "Gambling tree. Classic."
The coin tumbled through the air.
Heads.
[SUCCESS!]
[NEXT ATTACK: DOUBLE DAMAGE]
Silver light wrapped around Judas's fist. He pushed off the ground, closing the distance with Phantom Step, and swung with everything he had.
Dillon blocked it with his forearm.
The impact shook the arena. Dillon's eyes widened slightly.
[OPPONENT VITALITY [250/251]
"Okay," he said, almost impressed. "That actually had some weight behind it."
Then he kicked Judas in the chest so hard he went airborne.
Judas crashed into the opposite wall, ribs definitely broken now, lungs refusing to cooperate.
[VITALITY: 2/13]
[WARNING: CRITICAL CONDITION]
He slumped to the ground, red streaks of blood covering his vision.
I'm close to dying again. This is becoming a pattern.
His head felt like a bowling ball as he strained to find where Dillion was, but the S-rank hunter was simply standing there silently, waiting for what Judas would do next.
Okay. He's giving me a chance to breathe. Think. Lucky seven has a 30% success rate. My daily luck will give me another 30. The risk is that I drop to 1 vitality, but I'm already at 2. Same difference. The reward is... I gain 3 vitality.
The risk-reward math worked itself out in his head like a poker hand.
The penalty won't kill me, but staying at 2 vitality might.
A frenzied smile etched itself on Judas's face. "Gambling with my life, huh? This is far more exhilarating than feeding money into a slot machine." Rising to his feet like a puppet on strings, his next words spilled out like a declaration.
"I place a bet. Lucky Seven."
Three slot reels materialized above his head, spinning with violent energy.
[BET ACTIVATED: LUCKY SEVEN]
[SUCCESS CHANCE: 60% (30% base + 30% luck)]
[ROLLING...]
Dillon didn't move. Not yet. Whatever this kid was hiding, it was worth seeing the full hand. "Still gambling? Interesting. Most people panic."
The reels spun faster, becoming blurs of color and light.
Come on. Come on. Just this once.
The first reel stopped.
"7"
The second.
"7"
Judas held his breath.
The third reel slowed, ticking through symbols one by one.
Bar. Cherry. Bell.
"7"
[SUCCESS!]
[VITALITY RESTORED: +3]
Golden light poured into Judas's body, knitting broken tissue, soothing bruised organs. He gasped as strength flooded back into his limbs.
[VITALITY 5/13]
Again.
"I place a bet. Lucky Seven." Judas's smile grew even wider.
Normally, in a fight, no sane gambler would stand there and let me do this, but if this S rank wants to "observe" me, then I might as well play dirty.
[BET ACTIVATED: LUCKY SEVEN]
[ROLLING...]
[SUCCESS!]
[VITALITY: 8/13]
Warmth flooded through his muscles, regaining their strength. Judas let out a relieved exhale, flexing his hands.
Okay good. Now it's time to—
But before his brain could finish the thought, the room exploded into violent purple lighting.
Not the soft glow of Sera's usual materialization. This was violent. Oppressive. Reality itself seemed to crack at the seams as power poured into the room like a flood breaking through a dam.
The temperature dropped thirty degrees in an instant. Frost formed on the walls. The lights overhead flickered and died.
And Sera stood in the center of the ring.
But this wasn't the playful, teasing guide he knew. This was something else entirely. Her purple hair whipped around her face like it had a life of its own. Her ocean-blue eyes burned with an inner light that hurt to look at directly. The air around her distorted, bending under the weight of her presence.
No one could even draw a breath.
"Kneel."
The single word carried the weight of divine command.
Invisible pressure slammed into the room like a physical blow. Judas felt it press against his shoulders, trying to force him down, but it seemed to recognize him and slid away harmlessly.
Evie wasn't so lucky.
On the observation deck, she gasped as her legs buckled. She fought it, teeth clenched, muscles straining, but her body betrayed her. Her knees hit the floor with a crack that echoed through the arena.
The shock on her face was absolute. Evie Ashford, heiress to the Ashford family, was forced to her knees by sheer presence alone.
Dillion went down even harder. The S-rank hunter, the man who'd been casually demolishing Judas seconds ago, slammed into the ground like gravity had quintupled. His face pressed against the white floor, arms splayed, completely immobilized.
"What the fuck," he wheezed.
Sera's eyes scanned the room with predatory focus, landing on each person in turn. When her gaze settled on Dillion, her expression twisted into something monstrous.
"Who," she hissed, her voice layered with harmonics that shouldn't exist, "is threatening my gambler?"