Darek slowly stepped into the arena, the pillow clutched tightly in his hand. Where at the beginning there had been fewer than thirty spectators on the sports field, there were now just over a hundred students. Most of them were between eighteen and twenty-two years old and belonged to the upper year of the high school. The curious students who had now mixed in with the spectators had quickly arrived when they heard that Joran would fight again, just as they had done in his previous round. A slightly annoyed look flickered across Darek's face. "Alright," he muttered to himself. "At least his Soulbound is already out in the open. He's making no secret of it. It's definitely his dice—and he can influence probabilities."
Carris' voice echoed in his head: "Locate – Analyze – Appraise." Joran's dice rested in his hand, promising unpredictable danger. He is dangerous, Darek thought, but his ability is probably limited to hit probability and the intensity of his strikes… I can't imagine anything else. My ability should be a good counter. I definitely have more endurance, and I'll land a hit or two!
He took a deep breath, letting his gaze sweep across the sports field, feeling the tension of the audience roll over him like a storm. There was no turning back now; the fight had begun.
Every unnecessary thought vanished, replaced by Darek's focus. The audience no longer existed for him; the only thing in his sight was Joran and the fight.
It wasn't just the ticket that motivated him and made the otherwise sleepy, over-tired Darek take this fight seriously. The changes felt everywhere in the world, and the dangerous fight of his brother had left traces. Slowly, Darek began to understand and grasp things. But in this moment, his thoughts belonged solely to the impending fight.
If we're both going for close combat anyway, I'd better strike first. Let's see how well he can roll dice when he can't see a thing.
"Go!" shouted Carris, and Darek charged forward.
Darek rushed forward, the pillow slightly extended. "Blindness!" he shouted, and red sand swirled from the pillow into the air.
Come on, let's see how you roll now!
Joran reacted lightning fast. He rolled the dice against Darek's attack—a 6 appeared. A major failure. The crowd cheered exuberantly.
What?! He's way faster than I thought. A 6 probably means my attack fails. Well, I'll just try again immediately.
Suddenly, a small gust of wind blew the red dust back into Darek's eyes. "Shit! I can't see a thing!" he screamed. His Soulbound glowed slightly, removing the pain and status effect, moving gently up and down, but it was too late.
Joran was already close in front of him, the dice raised in his hand. With a slight grin, he threw it into the air, twisted his hips skillfully, and executed a sweeping uppercut. The moment Joran's fist made contact, the dice fell to the ground, kicking up dust.
The blow landed—and unleashed its full effect. Joran hit Darek mid-motion, hurling him several meters across the sports field. The dust settled, and the view of the dice became clear: a perfect 1.
The crowd went wild, deafening and unstoppable, while Joran casually raised his fist, clearly the master of the field.
"Uagh… ahhh… fuuuuck, that hurt," Darek thought, as his Soulbound once again did its job and took away the pain.
Darek slowly got up, sweat on his face. I'll show him. Let's see how proud he is when I finally strike… we'll see who laughs last.
Darek charged again, this time with a punch. Joran didn't even need to roll; he leaned back elegantly and simultaneously delivered a powerful kick to Darek's face.
Darek flew back once more. The pillow pulsed, red dust emanated from it, then returned to the pillow, which briefly glowed and absorbed the damage.
Darek got up again, eyes wild, but a slightly annoyed grin on his lips: "I CAN DO THIS ALL DAY!"
Then he focused on his pillow and said dangerously: "Today, this will be a feast for you!"
Joran grinned widely, mockingly: "I've never met someone like you… are you a pervert?"
Darek froze, completely flustered, stammering: "Wa… um… NO! But the ticket will be mine!"
Joran raised an eyebrow, slightly puzzled: "The ticket? So you're just crazy… not a pervert."
Joran charged at him, but Darek remained grinning. Joran's gaze sharpened, ready to roll the dice.
The guy doesn't just have a good active ability—no, he even has a hell of a lot of luck. Darek's eyes suddenly lit up as an idea came to him. He grinned wickedly and thought: Will this work? Yeah… it should.
Darek raised the pillow and suddenly shouted: "BAD LUCK!"
Before he could even finish the sentence, Joran threw the dice. His eyes widened as he stared at Darek, unable to believe what he had just heard.
The dice fell, and the dust hit Joran as the crowd suddenly gasped: "WHAT A 3!?"
Darek's face twisted into a sinister grin, while Joran still stared in shock. It really worked… hahaha. Not a complete success, but at least a 3. His bad luck should last for the next attack, Darek thought.
He didn't hesitate long, grabbed the pillow, and shouted again: "Blindness!"
Joran rolled the dice against Darek's attack—a 2 appeared. Darek's attack succeeded brilliantly. Joran grimaced, but the red dust was already swirling in front of him, ready to take effect.
"Hahaha! Now I've got you. There's little I enjoy more than sleeping in… but putting arrogant people back in their place comes pretty close."
"Ahh shit, that burns, you bastard!" said Joran.
Joran jumped back resolutely, eyes tightly shut. The blindness was already in effect. Suddenly, he stretched out his arm and let his Soulbound, the dice, vanish into himself. His skin turned whiter, almost porcelain-like, and a tangible calm settled over him, as if luck had switched sides again.
Now it's my turn, and I'm the real bastard.
Darek charged forward, ready to land a punch on Joran. But even with closed eyes, Joran turned to the side at the perfect moment, elegantly and effortlessly. The audience cheered loudly, impressed by his seemingly effortless elegance.
How… how did he… stammered Darek to himself.
The blindness held Joran firmly. His dice was hidden in his soul; no one could see how he used it, yet his movements remained precise, almost superhuman. Every step, every dodge was perfectly timed. The audience roared at every movement, amazed at his apparent superiority and his superhuman precision despite his closed eyes.
Darek took two steps back, observing Joran and thinking to himself: His Soulbound is now passive. Looks like all his attributes are slightly increased. But by my estimation, his dice can now only be applied to himself. He can no longer use it against me—constant effects for him, but no danger for my next attack.
Joran straightened, eyes still tightly closed, and attacked again. Blind, but completely calm and focused, he moved like a shadow across the sports field. Every step, every turn was perfectly timed, his passive dice power unstoppable.
Shit, he's even more dangerous than before.
Darek breathed heavily, trying to keep his distance, but Joran closed it in a fraction of a second. With a fluid motion, the first blows landed, hard, precise, relentless. Darek felt the red dust from his pillow flare, absorbing the damage, but the force of the hits made him stumble backward.
A quick hook, a powerful kick, Joran's assault followed in rapid succession. Darek tried to block, sometimes clumsily dodging, but he couldn't prevent every hit. His body ached, his reflexes were tested, and the audience roared at every solid blow, amazed at Joran's blind precision.
Darek gasped, his gaze sharp, strategy in his mind. I have to turn this to my advantage, or Joran will keep control.
After further exchanges, Darek still felt fresh; the pillow seemed happier than ever. Joran, on the other hand, looked visibly exhausted. Ben thought to himself: "Joran is definitely much stronger, but Darek's ability is just perfect in a drawn-out fight… Joran will be happy when he can finally go to bed… Wait!"
At that moment, Darek grinned crookedly as if he had the same idea and shouted: "Sleep!"
Even though Joran could have dodged despite the blindness, he didn't. He bent into the red dust and fell asleep.
Darek laughed: "Ha ha ha, looks like his dice counted it as luck, finally being able to go to sleep! Hahaha!"
Carris noted it down and muttered: "And that's exactly why Joran is only a Front Supporter and not an offensive fighter. There's always a risk in what he and his dice see as a fortunate situation."
Carris looked at Darek, nodded proudly, and announced in his usual tone: "And the winner is DAREK!"
Darek let the pillow dangle loosely in his hand, brushed the dust from his shoulders, and threw Ben a quick glance. Ben couldn't help but give Darek two proud thumbs up, a grin stretching from ear to ear—as if he had won himself. He was one of the few who truly understood what had just happened.
Most of the audience seemed frozen. Few cheered, others muttered incredulously about the outcome. No one had expected that Darek—the guy with the pillow—would have the slightest chance against Joran. And yet, Lieutenant Carris called his name.
Ben grinned and called after him: "Well, who would've thought you'd pull that off, Darek!"
Darek replied casually, "Luck? Yeah, I'd hardly call it that."
Carris shook his head, noted something down, and raised his voice:
"Enough for today! We'll see each other tomorrow for the semi-finals and the third-place match of the Front Supporters. Prepare yourselves—it will be exciting!"
Darek and Ben left the sports field and strolled casually through the quiet corridors of the school.
Ben had a relaxed gait, both hands in the pockets of his oversized jeans. His pride over Darek's victory was clearly visible. His chin tilted slightly upward, a mischievous grin on his face.
Ben said in a casual voice: "First the rowdies, then the school shooter, and now even Joran, who everyone puts on a pedestal. And none of them had a chance against us in the end, Darek! Hahaha!"
"Us?" said Darek, slightly amused, raising his left eyebrow at Ben with a smile.
But Ben is right. Since the bang, power and strength relationships have shifted. Fights are becoming more real and test you and your strength every day. Everything is changing—from day to day—and slowly everyone is getting used to it. A new world order. And I'm sure this is only the beginning.
If I really want it easy and comfortable, I have to be strong enough to protect myself, my friends, and my family at any time. Because who knows what's coming next…
Ben hadn't heard a word and just continued: "Once I get powers! I'll descend from the sky in golden armor, and the gold will blind them so much they'll run away! Hahaha! I'm looking forward to that."
Darek said contentedly: "You know what I'm really looking forward to now? Dinner and a restful sleep for my soul."