The crowd roared in excitement as they saw the smaller man get broken in half. Blood splattered, and his body didn’t move.
The referee ran to his position, pulling the bigger man away from his opponent. He bent low and checked on the man, then raised his hand, signaling to the medics.
The medics rushed in with a stretcher. They picked the man up carefully, trying not to hurt him more than he already was.
After carrying him, they rushed him out of the ring. The referee walked to the winner and lifted his hand up. “Your winner, Rock Crusher!”
The crowd roared even more, people raising their fists to the winner.
“Take your shirt off, kiddo. I’m setting you next,” Legion said.
Silva didn’t say anything. He removed his shirt and stretched a little. Legion was shocked to see Silva’s body—it was very toned, and even though the skin looked pale, he could tell that it was very tough.
He peeled his eyes away from Silva’s body and got up. He walked to the ring and handed a piece of paper to the referee.
The referee opened it, read it, and nodded to Legion. Legion walked to meet Silva.
“Your fight is set. Get ready,” he said. “Oh, and I gave you a name since you didn’t tell me which one to use,” he added.
Silva looked at him, confused. “You didn’t ask me for a name. What name did you use?” Silva asked.
“You’ll hear it,” Legion said nonchalantly.
(“Alright, our next event for the day is a fight! A veteran of the Pig’s Pit versus a newbie—The Mad Dog, Cain, versus a newcomer! His name… Death Wish!”)
The referee announced. He had some sort of amplifying magic on him because his voice was heard all over the place.
When Silva heard his name, he looked at Legion. Legion simply smiled softly and looked at Silva. “The name fits, right?” he asked.
Silva didn’t have time for this. He turned and faced the ring, started walking out, and soon made it to the center.
Once people saw him, many started booing, others laughing and scorning him.
“Your name is Death Wish? I guess you really do have a death wish.”
“This guy stands no chance against Cain.”
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But amongst the crowd, a few people looked at Silva quietly, as if they could tell he wasn’t normal.
Silva’s opponent, Cain, walked out. He was a bald-headed, heavily ripped man standing over six feet. His chest had scars and wounds, testaments of his battles.
His eyes looked hungry and ready for a fight. Silva stood there and used Dragon Eyes on the man before him, but sadly, the man fell short. He was level 91, and his strongest stat was 900—that was his strength.
It was impressive when looked at normally, but to Silva, it was nothing. Silva couldn’t have an exhilarating battle if his opponent was that weak.
“System, recommend anything I can buy from the store that will help me suppress my levels and strength down to around nine hundred,” Silva asked.
[Abyss Drain Curse: The person this skill is cast upon will have his power drained until the caster runs out of mana.]
[Cost: 100,000]
“That’s quite expensive. And how do I even use it on myself? It’s supposed to be for me,” Silva said.
“You can try making yourself the target of the spell. That way, you can reduce your strength to your desired level,” one of his minds said.
“Hmm, that could work,” Silva said and did just that. He made himself the target of the spell, and it worked.
His stats started dropping as he drained himself until all his stats were exactly at 800. The only issue was that he couldn’t drain mana.
Even his intelligence was lower, meaning his perspective and ability to make crucial decisions had dropped as well.
“This should work,” Silva said. He got into a fighting stance and got ready for the referee.
The referee looked at both sides, and when he was certain both were ready, he swung his hand down, signaling the start of the fight.
Cain didn’t waste a second. He charged in like a wild bull. Silva watched him closely. He didn’t have the body he had a few seconds ago—he was weaker now, so he had to fight smart.
Cain threw a punch at Silva. Silva moved, dodging the punch. He took a few steps to the side and bounced on his toes before sending a kick right into Cain’s head.
His kick was like a whip—it whistled through the air and slammed into Cain’s head. Cain’s head shot back, and his body followed as well. He lifted off the ground and landed with a loud boom.
The crowd was shocked by this turn of events, but Cain still got up. The crowd cheered as he did. Cain shook his head, his expression filled with rage.
“Arghhhh!” He let out a roar and charged at Silva. Silva watched, waiting for the right moment. Cain threw a punch—Silva parried it. He felt a shock run through his body as he did, but that didn’t stop him.
He set one leg back after parrying the attack and then sent a punch to Cain’s side. Cain arched as the punch landed. Silva didn’t let him go after that—he sent another and another, punch after punch to the same place.
Cain managed to break out. He pushed Silva away and retreated, one of his hands holding the side Silva had pummeled.
Silva smirked as he saw this. “I guess even if our stats are similar, you can’t defeat me,” Silva said.
“It’s probably because we can use the maximum of any stat we have, while most normal people aren’t capable of doing that. They can only tap into a certain percent,” another mind told him.
“True. Well, let’s finish this fight,” Silva said and started walking toward Cain. When he reached the midpoint, he suddenly charged and leaped into the air, his knee in front, ready to drive it into Cain’s head.