Chapter 23: Getting Rich

Why didn't Ethan, Marcus, and Seraphina show up for the final school assessment? Naturally, it was because they now looked down on those few beginner-grade potions being offered as prizes. They were now at a point in their training where they disdained to use such low-level resources for themselves. Rather than waste the opportunity on their own, already rapid, progress, they felt it was better to give the other students who truly needed it a fair chance.

They had now returned to the smoky, roaring confines of The Gauntlet.

"This time," Marcus declared, cracking his knuckles with a grim smile, "I will definitely avenge my last humiliating defeat!"

The three of them paid the 50,000 credit deposit each and went straight to the familiar viewing stands overlooking the main fighting stages. Below, a porcupine beastification psionicist and a wolf beastification psionicist were in the middle of a brutal, bloody battle. The wolf, despite its speed and ferocity, was quickly impaled all over its body by the porcupine's sharp, psionically hardened quills and died with a final, gurgling howl.

Looking at the victorious porcupine-man who was then dragged off the stage by the staff, now completely out of breath and bleeding from his own wounds, Seraphina said quietly, "Although this isn't the first time I've seen it, the sheer brutality of this place still feels a bit… unbelievable."

Marcus nodded, his expression somber. "Yeah, they're both clearly human, yet they kill each other like this, as if they were monsters."

"Perhaps this is the pull of interests, of desperation," Ethan mused, his voice low. "To put it bluntly, it's all driven by a kind of greed. But didn't we come here also because of our own form of greed? We want credits, we want resources, we want to improve our own strength, to make ourselves undeniably stronger. Isn't this our goal as well? The only thing we can really do, I think, is to restrain ourselves as much as possible, to hold onto our principles, and not to become the same kind of people as them."

As Ethan was still feeling emotional from his own philosophical train of thought, the booming voice of the ring announcer rang out from the stage below. "Next up, a rematch you've been waiting for! Please welcome back to the stage… Muscle Man and Titan! These two had a memorable battle half a month ago, with the mighty Titan emerging victorious in short order. Now, we've confirmed that both of them have broken through to the formidable Rank One, Level Seven! We don't know if the outcome will change this time, but it’s bound to be explosive! Let us wait and see!"

Marcus took a deep, steadying breath. "It's my turn. I didn't expect it to be him again, so soon. This time," he clenched his fists, "I definitely won't lose!"

"Go for it, Marcus!" Seraphina called out.

"You got this, man!" Ethan added.

The two of them sent him their most sincere blessings. Marcus, with a newfound confidence, stepped onto the bloodstained stage.

Titan, already waiting, recognized him instantly. "I remember you. You were the one who lost to me the fastest last time I was here."

Marcus’s face tightened under his mask. "……”

"Don't be so smug. This time, I will definitely avenge my last defeat!"

"So you even know what shame is, huh?" Titan taunted. "Then why do you still dare to come up here and face me again?"

Marcus grit his teeth. "Damn! I can't win a war of words with you! Let’s just fight!"

At this moment, the referee's voice rang out. "Will the two fighters please take their positions? Let the match… begin!"

Marcus was the first to act, activating his ability and charging towards his opponent with incredible speed. "No improvement," Titan thought, a smirk on his face. He still thought Marcus was going to charge over bluntly just like last time and was already prepared to repeat his old, simple trick of a leg sweep.

Unexpectedly, after Marcus charged forward, he leaped high into the air, executing a flawless 720-degree aerial flip that carried him over Titan’s head, landing gracefully behind him. Upon landing, he immediately executed a powerful leg sweep of his own. Titan, caught completely off guard by this agile, acrobatic maneuver from such a large man, was unable to react in time. Marcus’s tactic succeeded perfectly. Titan was heavily slammed to the ground. Marcus immediately followed up, getting on top of him and punching him squarely in the face. Titan rolled on the ground a few times from the force of the blow before scrambling back to his feet, his face grim as he looked at his transformed opponent.

"You're… different now."

"Hmph! I've been training constantly since I went back. This time, I will definitely defeat you!" Marcus roared, launching into the advanced combat techniques he had learned from Mr. Gordon, his hard, psionically-charged fists raining down on his opponent like a violent storm.

Facing this dense, technical assault, Titan didn't dare to be careless, constantly parrying Marcus's fists with his own powerful blocks. But Marcus's fists were simply too fast, his combinations too fluid. Titan soon found he only had the power to defend and no power at all to fight back.

After the two of them had fought furiously for a while, Titan gradually began to be unable to hold on, his defense faltering under the relentless barrage. Seeing that he was at a clear disadvantage, he also became anxious. His left hand flickered with the raw light of psionic energy as he unleashed his own psionic skill. "Tremor Fist!"

Marcus, seeing the attack coming, didn't dare to be careless and similarly used his own signature psionic skill. "Shattering Fist!"

The two massive, glowing fists collided with a deafening boom. The force of the impact was so great that it even caused the surrounding air to explode with a visible shockwave. However, Marcus's Earth-rank talent was ultimately a higher grade than his opponent's. Titan was sent flying backward by this direct blow, and the sickening sound of a bone cracking could even be heard from his fist.

Marcus himself was also pushed back more than ten steps by the force of the impact. He looked fine on the surface, but in reality, he was panting heavily. The subtle tremor effect from his opponent's Tremor Fist just now had spread throughout his entire body, and even his insides felt quite uncomfortable, a deep, resonant ache.

But even so, the situation now was that Marcus was standing, while Titan was lying on the ground, clutching his broken hand. The result was obvious.

The referee raised his arm. "I declare, in this match, Muscle Man is victorious!"

The area around the fighting stage exploded with celebratory fireworks and colored ribbons, a garish display for a bloody victory. At the same time, on the large screen, Marcus’s record also changed to: Muscle Man: 2 matches / 1 win / 1 loss.

The crowd erupted.

"I won! I won! Hahaha, I've earned a fortune on this upset!"

"No! Why! I was so sure about Titan! That was half my life savings I just lost!"

"Brother, what's half your life savings? I bet my entire damn fortune on him!"

The viewing stands were a tumultuous mix of unrestrained joy and bitter sorrow, but this had nothing to do with Marcus. He walked over to Titan's side and, in a surprising show of sportsmanship for this venue, extended a hand to help him up.

"You are very strong," Marcus said, his voice genuine. "A good opponent."

Titan, wincing as he got up, cradling his broken hand, replied, "You are too. To have made such great progress in just half a month is truly incredible."

Marcus scratched his head, a little embarrassed. "Well, actually......"

Titan held up his good hand. "No need to say more. A win is a win. Congratulations."

"Thanks," Marcus said.

Titan looked at him closely. "Listening to your real voice now… you must still be very young, right?"

Only then did Marcus realize that his mask's voice changer had been broken in the intense fight just now. "Indeed, my age isn't great."

"Young man," Titan said with a weary sigh, "you are young and have a limitless future ahead of you. Unlike me… I've already reached this point in my life. I can understand the desperate desire to make credits, but you must also act within your means. Don't become obsessed with the gambling aspect of this place; your life is what truly matters."

Marcus nodded seriously, humbled by the older man’s advice. "Thank you for your reminder, sir. I'll remember it."

The referee called out impatiently, "Ahem, could you two please step down from the stage? We need to prepare for the next match."

"Sorry, sorry," the two of them said, stepping down from the ring. Marcus went to collect his prize money. Besides the base prize of 50,000 credits, his substantial betting winnings came to 350,000 credits. In total, he had made a net profit of 300,000 credits from this single, hard-fought victory.

Titan, at the edge of the ring area, said, "I should be leaving too. I need to go back and recuperate properly, and prepare for next time."

Marcus, feeling a pang of sympathy, asked, "Are you very short on credits?"

Titan nodded, his expression grim. "Yes. Cultivation resources are too expensive. Without credits, you really can't afford them. My innate talent isn't good, and I'm already getting old, yet I've only managed to reach this rank. I originally thought I could rely on pure hard work to make up for my lack of talent, but without resources, the speed of progress from hard work alone is still painfully slow. But… I'm not resigned to my fate just yet. At least before I die, I want to experience what being a Rank Two psionicist feels like."

"Go for it," Marcus said with sincere encouragement. "You can definitely do it!"

Titan offered a rare, small smile. "Thank you for your blessing, young man." With that, he turned and left without looking back, disappearing into the grimy shadows of The Gauntlet.

Marcus also went to rejoin Ethan and the others, his earlier bravado returning. "Hahaha, how about that, bros, I won!"

"Congratulations, Marcus!" Ethan said, clapping him on the back.

"Amazing, truly amazing!" Seraphina added with a proud smile.

Marcus grinned, feeling on top of the world. "This is just the beginning! Next, I'm going to be invincible in The Gauntlet, get so many credits my hands will cramp up from counting it all!"

Seraphina rolled her eyes playfully. "Okay, okay, you just won one rematch and you're already so arrogant? Pride makes one fall behind, you know? There are many powerful people out there. If you want to be truly arrogant, you need the capital for it. At the very least, you should win five or six tough matches in a row, right?"

Marcus pouted slightly. "Seraphina, I just managed to win a really tough match; can't you let me be happy and a little proud for a little while?"

Seraphina’s expression softened. "I'm just afraid you'll get too arrogant, that’s all. What if you develop a conceited, 'no one else matters' personality in the future from winning too much?"

Marcus smiled. "Relax, Seraphina, I understand the principle. There will always be people stronger than me in this world. What I need to do is to continuously challenge myself and surpass them!"

"It's good that you understand," she replied, satisfied.

The three of them then settled in and watched a few more brutal, enlightening matches, their understanding of the harsh realities of this world growing with each bout.