Chapter Seventeen: The Weakest versus the Strongest

The arena was even more crowded on the second day of the tournament, livelier than before. The audience knew well that as the competition progressed, the battles would only become more thrilling. The weaker contestants had already been eliminated, leaving only the strong. When the strong clashed with the strong, that was a spectacle worth watching.

“That boy in the traditional Chinese attire—Number Seven—he's truly formidable. With nothing but a sword in hand, his opponent couldn't even withstand a single move.”

“Yes, I saw it yesterday too. I thought I was seeing things.”

“That boy in traditional garb must have developed his body beyond ten percent.”

“No, no, it must be an enhancement-type ability. His speed was incredible; only afterimages were visible.”

“That pink-haired girl, Dongfang Hui, is remarkable too. She’s ranked thirteenth in the organization. Yesterday, she just summoned a horde of strange things, and her opponent was defeated instantly.”

“Exactly, she ended the fight in just seconds—astonishingly fast.”

“But I think the strongest is that twelfth-ranked, well-endowed lady. She also has a summoning ability, but what she summons are gigantic, beast-like creatures. It's an absolute one-sided crush.”

“If she wasn't strong, would she be ranked twelfth?”

The audience was abuzz with gossip, idolizing these powerful contestants. Their abilities seemed almost supernatural.

They watched as the match below concluded, anticipating the next bout.

“Number 55… that transfer student?” Some recognized Xia Yan.

“Luck to the extreme—Number 55?”

“Yes, he was lucky yesterday, ran into a total rookie. If it had been me, I could have won too—just pull the trigger ten times with a semi-automatic pistol.”

“Right, anyone could have won firing blindly. His opponent was too weak.”

“If a so-called ability user has to rely on simulated firearms, they're weak. I think Number 55’s luck has run out.”

Although Xia Yan’s next opponent was also an unknown, someone considered weak, the crowd had little faith in him. In their eyes, Xia Yan was at the absolute bottom. If the burly youth who lost to him yesterday was the weakest, then Xia Yan was second to last—no one could be more of an amateur. Someone who didn't even use his ability must have a useless one, like healing or psychic detection—perhaps he was there to heal his opponents!

Everyone figured Xia Yan was just here to show his face.

Ten seconds passed amid such skepticism.

“Wait…”

“What the hell just happened?”

“Why did the referee declare the match over?”

“Who won?”

“All I saw was Number 55 emptying his magazine, then it ended.”

The crowd stared in disbelief, as if they’d just witnessed a joke.

They turned their scornful eyes toward Xia Yan’s opponent, a plain-looking girl in white. If yesterday’s burly youth was the weakest, she must be third to last, losing to the second weakest—hence her defeat at the hands of Number 55.

Had the girl in white known their thoughts, she would have been frustrated to death. Dodging E-rank bullets in a competition should have been child’s play!

“Number 55 cheated, bribed the referee and his opponent. Disgusting.”

“If he didn’t cheat, I could have done it—just pull the trigger with a simulated pistol, who couldn't?”

“I’m reporting this—Number 55 is cheating, paying off his opponents. I’m filing a complaint.”

“No way, it’s just luck. In this kind of tournament, would they really rig matches?”

“I don’t think so either. He’s just lucky. He’s bound to lose next time—I’ve already bet several thousand credits.”

“Whoever Number 55 faces next, he’ll lose. I’ve seen oddballs before, but never one as odd as this.”

Many muttered under their breath. To them, Number 55 was nothing special—his luck had just been godlike so far. Making it into the top sixty-four by luck was already extraordinary. To make it into the top thirty-two would be the end of the line. From then on, only the elite remained. Did he really think he could keep winning with a simulated pistol? Nonsense.

That was the view of ordinary people. Among ability users, however, opinions about Xia Yan were quite different.

Tang Yun, dressed in a traditional outfit, regarded Xia Yan carefully. He was deeply unsettled. That marksmanship was terrifying—his calculation, prediction, and eyesight were all frighteningly precise.

It was clear that Xia Yan wasn’t just facing ordinary people, but ability users! To win with a simulated pistol against such opponents—what was his true strength?

Even more unsettling, Xia Yan hadn’t displayed any abilities, hadn’t even moved from his spot. If he ever went all out, how terrifying would he be?

As a top contender for the championship, Tang Yun memorized the strongest opponents and simulated his chances against them. Of the five he’d noted, only Xia Yan remained a total mystery—he couldn’t even simulate a fight with him, because Xia Yan had never moved.

“Strong, truly strong. Against his marksmanship, I’ll have to be at my most vigilant,” Tang Yun thought, marking Xia Yan as an obstacle to his victory.

Dongfang Hui, another favorite for the championship, watched Xia Yan with a furrowed brow. Her power—spirit summoning—was formidable, but had clear weaknesses.

The two people she feared most were Tang Yun and Xia Yan; she saw no way to defeat them. Her ability, unlike Meimi’s, was more limited, making her vulnerabilities more glaring.

Against such swift and accurate attacks, summoning multiple spirits would do little—like a group of turtles facing a wolf, they posed no threat.

A look of frustration crossed Dongfang Hui’s face; she couldn’t conceive of a way to guarantee victory.

Today’s rounds moved much faster than yesterday’s qualifiers, as half the participants had been eliminated. In less than half a day, thirty-two were knocked out, leaving the top thirty-two.

Tao Lu also advanced smoothly.

That afternoon, the round of thirty-two would commence, determining the sixteen who would remain. Those who made it into the top sixteen were almost guaranteed to rank in the organization's top thirty and earn the right to challenge the “executive management.”

“The first match: Number 55 versus Number 22.”

As Instructor Nina announced the pairing, the crowd erupted.

“It’s the Busty Lady!”

“I love you, Busty Lady!”

“Busty Lady for the win! The champion is hers!”

“Busty Lady, your fan club will always support you!”

Number 22 was none other than Meimi, currently ranked highest among the participants. Her nickname, “Busty Lady,” had stuck, overshadowing her real name and number due to her exaggerated figure.

It was rather comical to hear men in their thirties and forties cheering for a girl not yet twenty, but no one cared—not when so many of them were die-hard Meimi fans, their cheers echoing throughout the arena.

“Number 55 is doomed now.”

“He’s had a lucky streak, but now he’ll get what’s coming to him.”

“He would have lost to anyone, but at least losing to the Busty Lady is better than to a nobody.”

“Just forfeit, Number 55. You’re no match for her.”

“Give it up—her summoned beast could crush you with a single step.”

“You can’t rely on luck forever, Number 55.”

“Don’t be so sure—maybe he’ll just fire off a few shots and win again!”

“Number 55’s going to ‘shoot’ a few times and take down the Busty Lady.”

“Go, Number 55! Take her down, ha ha ha…”

Laughter and jeers filled the arena. The ordinary spectators, oblivious to the subtleties of ability users, backed whoever seemed strongest and dismissed the rest.

In their eyes, Xia Yan was the weakest, surviving only on luck. But this time, his luck had surely run dry.

Secret betting rings sprang up—on whether Number 55 would last five seconds, ten seconds, fifteen seconds. The shorter the time, the higher the odds, but even for five seconds, the payout wasn’t high. No one believed he could win.

Xia Yan looked at Meimi, whose chest was impossible to ignore. This was likely the strongest opponent he had ever faced.

He wasn’t arrogant or overconfident in his own strength. Though he’d boasted about driving Levin out of the “executive management,” he couldn’t guarantee he’d take first place.

After all, every contender for the top spot had their own tricks. Meimi’s power was especially unique.

But with uniqueness came strength. Summoning abilities had an obvious weakness—ignore the summoned creature and attack the summoner directly. But a weakness also implied a strength: summoned beasts were far stronger than most other abilities.

That was why Meimi was ranked twelfth and Dongfang Hui thirteenth—both had summoning abilities.

“Begin!” announced the referee.

Xia Yan drew his simulated pistol, but, unexpectedly, did not fire.

“Hmph!” Meimi snorted. With a mere thought, a massive black vortex appeared in front of her, from which an enormous creature emerged.

How enormous? Like a moving skyscraper—at least twenty meters tall.

The monster resembled the mythical Cyclops, humanoid but with a single eye and green skin.

“How do you even fight this? Take down the summoned beast first?” Xia Yan frowned.

It was a desperate mismatch—a human not even two meters tall versus a twenty-meter giant.

Meanwhile, the top contenders and their mentors watched closely, eyes wide. Either of these two could make the finals, yet they met in the top thirty-two.

This match was worthy of a final.

Who would win—the new transfer student, or the twelfth-ranked Meimi?

Many watched intently: Gu Yue’er, Laian, Gong Kui, Tao Lu, and more.

Laian’s expression was troubled. On the one hand, he didn’t believe Xia Yan could win, but on the other, he hoped Daren would kill Xia Yan during the match.

It was a contradictory feeling!

“Xia Yan, if you lose here, you may have just escaped with your life…” Levin mused. “So, hang in there a bit longer—dying after gaining a little glory is fine, too.”

“A dead man’s glory is quickly forgotten. After you die, we’ll awaken Gu Yue’er’s second ability. Your death, Xia Yan, will be the perfect catalyst.”