'Fair Beast' Igola

"The new cult leader is going to fight the 'Fair Beast' in a death match!" "The Fair Beast won't even let a single contribution point slip by?" "Don't tell me the cult leader has already fallen into his trap?" "Oho, then it won't be just one contribution point. The Fair Beast might rake in fifty points this time..." Listening to the buzzing chatter from the stands, Yaxiu, who was wrapping bandages around his fists, offered a strained smile. "Looks like you really were playing the pig to eat the tiger." "I'd rather say you're the one hiding your strength to lure me into a trap," chuckled Igola, his hair blond, eyes green, and skin fair. "You're the Four Pillar Cult leader who dared stand against the Bloodmad Hunters, while I'm just an ordinary swindler. Any way you slice it, your combat prowess ought to be higher, wouldn't you say?" Indeed, before entering this death match with Igola, Yaxiu had asked Langna about Igola's criminal record. After all, almost every prisoner introduced themselves on the news channel upon arrival, so criminal records were virtually transparent among them—just as everyone now knew Yaxiu was a minor cult leader taken down by the hunters. Igola Bogin, also known as the "Swindler," worked in the insurance industry and landed behind bars after defrauding several wealthy tycoons of vast fortunes. A mind sorcerer himself, he possessed a series of sorcery spirits that manipulated the mind, such as "Contract." Although sorcery spirits were theoretically prohibited in the prison, this ban was merely "direct," not "absolute." A mind sorcerer like Igola, who specialized in mental cultivation, could still trigger his sorcery spirits through rhetoric, suggestion, and body language. Just like when Igola invited Yaxiu to team up in the hall: the moment Yaxiu agreed, the sorcery spirit silently branded an imprint onto Yaxiu's psyche. It sounded as though Igola indeed lacked direct combat capabilities, but— *Ding!* The lights around the Death Match Club dimmed once more, leaving only the light screen above the ring, drawing everyone's gaze. "Igola Bogin wagers 46 contribution points" "VS" "Yaxiu Heath wagers 1 contribution point" In death matches, everyone wagered only the minimum amount, meaning Igola had already fought forty-five death matches! And according to Langna, across all forty-five past death matches, Igola had won every single one! So why had Yaxiu agreed to this death match? Because he had already agreed. When Igola jokingly asked if Yaxiu wanted to have a death match, Yaxiu had responded with an equally playful "Sure, sure." At that very moment, he had fallen into the trap—he could no longer back out of the joke. It was hard to describe the feeling. His body wasn't being controlled; rather, his perception had been modified. Much like forming an absurd belief that "water is lethal poison," Yaxiu was utterly convinced that he had to fight Igola in a death match. What consequences refusing would bring, Yaxiu didn't know, because the thought of "refusing" simply never crossed his mind—as though even thinking, the freest act of all, had been shackled. "That's why you shouldn't casually agree to anyone's invitations in the future," Sword Princess said lazily, leaning against the railing. "You're the End Watcher, after all! If you ask me, you ought to reject everyone's goodwill and malice alike, say 'no' to everything, seize all things with your own strength, dictate the world with your own will, and rule like a demon king—" *No!* "...You little..." Just as Sword Princess was choked by his retort, transparent barriers rose around the ring, declaring the official start of the death match. With a *ding* ringing in his mind, Yaxiu felt a shackle within him loosen—the chips at the napes of their necks no longer restricted them from attacking each other! At that exact moment, Igola bent low and dashed forward, his lithe body pouncing like a hunting cheetah! Yaxiu immediately raised his arms to guard and dodged to the side. Yet Igola seemed to have anticipated Yaxiu's reaction long before, sweeping a slide kick that knocked Yaxiu completely off balance, sending him eating dirt face-first! Even though Yaxiu quickly performed a breakfall and scrambled to his feet, he still couldn't evade Igola's relentless follow-up. A heavy blow struck his abdomen, forcing a muffled groan as he nearly threw up bile. "Clench your teeth," Igola offered with 'kindness' before driving another punch at Yaxiu's temple! Dazed and dizzy from the strike, Yaxiu backed against the wall, shielding his vitals with his arms. Yet Igola seemed to foresee every single move he made; each jab and hook struck right where Yaxiu failed to guard. Before long, Yaxiu was black, blue, and swollen, running and taking a beating in utter humiliation. He roared inwardly: *Hasn't the experience transfer started yet?! If this keeps up, I'm going to get beaten to death!* *It hurts so much! Sword Princess, possess me quick and smash this blondie!* *Mama Sword Princess, save me—!* Sword Princess answered with total perfunctoriness, "Almost, almost! The more you get beaten, the faster the experience transfers. And don't just take hits—try fighting back!" *Does fighting back speed up the experience transfer?* "Nope, but it'll make the match a bit more entertaining to watch. Honestly, watching you get one-sidedly thrashed is pretty boring." Though she said this, Sword Princess was secretly rather surprised. Seeing Yaxiu pummeled like a rubber ball was well within her expectations. This was Shattered Lake Prison, after all; Yaxiu stepping into a death match here was like a little lamb willingly strolling into a wolf pack. It would be strange if he weren't devoured down to the bone. She had thought Yaxiu would display pathetic, shameful behavior—kneeling, begging for mercy, bawling his eyes out, or something of the sort. Yet battered as he was, Yaxiu was pushing himself to his limits: keeping his back to the wall to minimize exposed angles, shielding the facial triangle with both hands, scrambling back up immediately after falling rather than lying pinned on the floor... What surprised Sword Princess most was that Yaxiu hadn't cried at all. For an otherworldly wandering soul who had grown up in a greenhouse and never experienced bloodshed, Yaxiu possessed unexpectedly tenacious willpower, and even a knack for self-counseling. His constant inner chatter with Sword Princess was his way of coping with the pain through dialogue. Even so, he never lost focus; his defensive movements grew crisper, and his evasive reactions to incoming blows became swifter. It was almost... Almost like a sponge constantly absorbing and learning. Sword Princess suddenly had a feeling: even without her, even without the Sorcerer Manual, once Yaxiu weathered the initial growing pains of transmigrating, he would still quickly adapt to this cruel world masked in beauty. At his core, he was not a cowardly man. Placed in a different environment, his true nature would surface. Indeed... he was the End Watcher... *Smack!* Yaxiu felt a searing burn in his arm bones. Sword Princess was urging him from above to strike back, and being pummeled had stirred up his temper as well. Even a clay figurine has some fire in it, let alone someone like Yaxiu, who was never one to swallow an insult lying down. In his working life, he had his own rules: aside from never talking back to bosses, he refused to take the short end of the stick with colleagues. Capable, adept at flattery, and loud enough when claiming credit, he had thrived quite well in the workplace—otherwise, his boss wouldn't have assigned him to lead the operations team for a new game. Spotting an opening, he recalled the military martial arts forms he had learned during freshman military training and retaliated with a horse-stance thrust punch! "So soft. How cute." Igola tilted his head as casually as if strolling down the street, a disdainful smile on his face. Evading the fist by a hair's breadth, he struck Yaxiu square in the face. "You!" "You—!" "You—you—" Not only was Yaxiu unable to get a curse out, but every punch he threw missed completely. Each of Igola's punches heavily wounded Yaxiu no matter how he tried to dodge, yet Igola dodged Yaxiu's straight punches with just a slight twist of his body. To an outsider, it hardly looked like a brawl; it looked more like a staged performance—as though Yaxiu were actively throwing his face into Igola's fists. "There it is again, the Fair Beast's trick." "Looks like all forty-nine of the cult leader's remaining contribution points are going straight into the Fair Beast's pocket." "Hmph, isn't it just fancy, showy tricks? If it were me—" "What would happen if it were you?" "If it were me, he'd be crouching down in a second to check if I was still breathing!" "We might not be able to beat the Fair Beast, but Old Master Taige definitely could!" The white-haired old man, Taige, hurriedly shook his head. "No, no, the younger generation grows stronger with each era. An old man like me will become a stepping stone for you all sooner or later..." *Old man, could you take your hands off the railing before saying that? You've twisted the rail into a pretzel!* Everyone cursed silently. Suddenly, someone looked toward Langna, who was snuggling in the embrace of a burly man: "Langna, can you see through the Fair Beast's tricks?" "I don't know. Besides, talk is cheap—you'd have to fight him to know," Langna laughed. "Though I'd hate to fight the Fair Beast. He's not my type. Don't worry, darling, as long as you're still breathing, my eyes won't wander to anyone else." Cold sweat bathed the burly man Langna was cuddling up to, and he forced a strained smile in the dark. Inside the death match ring, Igola shook the blood off his knuckles and asked casually, "Do you know why I've won all forty-five of my past death matches? Clearly, my physical fitness isn't great, and my reflexes aren't particularly fast. So why can't you land a single hit on me, while I hit you every single time?" Indeed, through the fight just now, Yaxiu had realized that Igola's physical conditioning was roughly the same as his own. Setting aside monsters like "Diamond" Taige, even any random burly thug could overpower Igola. They were clearly on the same level, yet no part of Yaxiu could touch Igola—except with his face. If Igola's boxing technique had been extraordinary, that would be one thing, but Yaxiu could sense that Igola's fighting skills were utterly mediocre; otherwise, Yaxiu would never have lasted this long. *We're both scrubs, so why are you the only one who gets to peck at me?!* "I've defeated orcs, trolls, and goblins. Plenty of them possessed physical fitness far surpassing mine, yet all of them fell in this ring, transferring contribution points that didn't belong to them over to me," Igola said languidly. "The reason you and they ended up as stray dogs comes down to just one thing—" "You are all livestock." "Your lives have never belonged to you." "From the moment you stepped into this ring, your neck was already fitted with the chain I prepared for you. Until every last drop of your contribution points is squeezed dry, you are livestock under my command!" "And the fate of livestock is always the same—" "Bled, skinned, and then..." Igola's handsome face looked down imperiously at Yaxiu as he licked his lips with a cruel smile, "...carved by the master into delicious morsels!" "Let's continue, Yaxiu Heath. Don't even think about surrendering—surrender isn't an option in a death match. Don't worry, I'm very gentle with my livestock. It'll all be over soon." Yaxiu straightened up, rolled his neck, and spat a mouthful of bloody foam. "Yeah." Up in the spectator stands, Sword Princess nodded as well, speaking languidly, "Time to end this."