With seven days to wait before their examination results, the brothers decided to return to the underground tournament that had funded their adventurer registration in the first place. They still had to compete in the main event—something they'd almost forgotten about in the chaos of the survival exam.
The tournament arena was packed when they arrived. The month-long wait had built up significant hype, and the crowd buzzed with anticipation. Laurel and Nelson checked in at the registration desk, relieved to find their names still on the roster.
"Day one covers the first and second rounds," the coordinator explained. "Sixteen matches today, eight tomorrow for quarters and semis, then the final the day after. Winners of each match advance. Simple enough?"
The brothers nodded and headed to the waiting area, where they found several familiar faces—including some candidates from the adventurer exam.
The first day of the tournament proved that the month of preparation had separated the serious fighters from the lucky ones. Both Laurel and Nelson dominated their respective first-round matches, using the combat experience they'd gained on Grimm Island to overwhelm opponents who relied purely on street-fighting techniques.
The second round was more challenging. Laurel faced a stocky brawler who seemed to feel no pain, forcing him to focus on precision strikes to vital points. Nelson's opponent was a wiry kickboxer with incredible reach, but Nelson's training allowed him to slip inside the man's guard and end the fight with a decisive combination.
As they left the arena that evening, both brothers were scheduled for the quarter-finals the next day.
"Did you notice?" Nelson asked as they walked back to their cheap inn. "Some of the exam candidates are in this tournament too."
Laurel had noticed. Maya, the skilled fighter who had performed well in the adventurer exam, was still in the competition. And more concerning—Itachi, the mysterious Asian candidate who had defeated his examiner, had won both his matches with single strikes so devastating that his opponents couldn't continue.
The second day of the tournament brought a shift in atmosphere. The crowd was larger, louder, and more bloodthirsty. The remaining eight fighters represented the best the underground circuit had to offer.
Nelson's quarter-final match was announced first. His opponent: Maya, a twenty-five-year-old woman wielding a naginata with obvious expertise.
"I remember you from the exam," Maya said as they faced each other in the ring. "You've got heart, but let's see how you handle a real weapon."
The match began, and Nelson immediately tried to close the distance, knowing that getting inside her weapon's reach was his only advantage. But Maya was far more experienced than he'd anticipated.
Before Nelson could even properly engage, Maya moved with fluid precision. In a single motion, she swept his legs out from under him with the naginata's shaft and placed the blade against his throat as he hit the ground.
The entire exchange took less than three seconds.
"Match over! Winner: Maya!" the announcer called out.
Nelson lay on the ground, stunned by how quickly he'd been defeated. Maya offered him a hand up, her expression respectful but firm.
"You're skilled for your age," she said quietly. "But experience beats raw talent every time."
Meanwhile, Laurel's quarter-final match against a veteran underground fighter proved far more competitive. The fight went the full five minutes, with both men trading blows until Laurel finally caught his opponent with a perfectly timed counter that ended the bout.
As Laurel left the ring, his eyes found the bracket board. His semi-final opponent was already decided: Itachi.
The semi-final matches drew the largest crowd yet. In one ring, Maya would face a mysterious fighter named Beto who wore a black hoodie that concealed most of his features. In the other ring, Laurel would face the enigma known as Itachi.
Laurel stepped into the ring, his mind racing through everything he'd observed about his opponent. Itachi had ended every single match with one strike. Not through overwhelming power, but through something else—something Laurel still couldn't quite understand.
Itachi stood across from him, calm and composed. Then, without warning, he snapped his fingers.
Two playing cards appeared in his hands, one in each palm.
He threw them both in quick succession. Laurel, remembering what those cards had done to the examiner, immediately dodged to the side. The cards sailed past him and embedded themselves in the ring post behind him with solid thuds.
Laurel pulled out a knife and a cloth he'd hidden in his sleeve—makeshift weapons, but better than nothing. He threw the cloth forward, creating a visual barrier between them, and charged.
His plan was simple: use the cloth as cover, then attack from an unexpected angle while Itachi couldn't see him clearly.
But as Laurel moved behind the cloth, preparing to strike, Itachi's hand shot out and caught his wrist with perfect precision, as if he'd known exactly where Laurel would be.
"How—" Laurel began, but Itachi's grip was like iron, holding him completely immobile.
Then Laurel felt it—a sharp, burning pain in his back.
He looked down to see a playing card protruding from his shoulder blade. The same cards Itachi had thrown earlier had somehow changed direction mid-flight and struck him from behind.
"Winner: Itachi!" the announcer called as Laurel collapsed to one knee, blood seeping from the wound.
Narrator: What Laurel couldn't have known was that Itachi had been manipulating the cards from the very beginning. When he snapped his fingers and appeared to produce two cards, he was actually holding three cards in each hand, cleverly positioned to look like one. More importantly, he had attached nearly invisible threads to each card using his vital energy. When he threw them, he maintained control through these threads. After immobilizing Laurel, Itachi simply pulled the threads, causing the cards to fly back and strike his opponent from behind. Without the ability to sense vital energy, Laurel had been fighting an opponent whose true capabilities he couldn't even perceive.
In the adjacent ring, Maya faced her own mysterious opponent. Beto had said nothing during the pre-match announcement, his face hidden beneath his hood, his stance unnaturally still.
The match began, and Maya immediately went on the offensive. She threw her naginata like a spear directly at Beto's center mass—a bold move that would leave her temporarily weaponless but could end the fight instantly if it connected.
Beto dodged to the side, but that was exactly what Maya had anticipated. With incredible speed, she closed the distance, caught her naginata mid-air, and used her momentum to swing the blade in a wide arc designed to catch Beto while he was still unbalanced from his dodge.
It should have worked. It would have worked against almost any opponent.
But in the split second before the blade connected, Beto's hand shot forward and caught Maya by the throat.
The movement was so fast, so precise, that the crowd barely registered what had happened. One moment Maya was attacking, the next she was suspended in Beto's grip, her feet dangling above the ground.
Her eyes went wide, and then rolled back. She went limp.
Beto released her, letting her body crumple to the mat. Medical staff rushed forward as the announcer declared him the winner.
The crowd fell silent, unsettled by the brutal efficiency of what they'd just witnessed.