The silence in the Ironhold Arena was heavy, suffocating, and absolute.
It was the kind of silence that usually followed a natural disaster, not a gladiator match. Moments ago, the crowd had been roaring for blood, eager to see the "Trash Class" Drifter flattened into a paste by the massive shield of Tanker_Bob.
Now, Tanker_Bob was on his knees, weeping over the clean, mirror-smooth cut that had bisected his Rare-grade shield and armor. He was physically unharmed, but mentally, he was broken.
Sebastian stood in the center of the sand, his expression bored. He lowered his hand, the residual mana from the Dimensional Sever dissipating into the stale air.
[Winner: Zero.]
The holographic text hovered above the arena, glowing with a mocking green light.
"H-He... He cheated!"
The scream came from the upper stands. It broke the spell.
"Yeah! A bug! He used a bug!"
"Admin! Where is the GM? Ban this guy!"
"No way a Drifter deals damage like that! That shield had 2,000 Durability!"
The crowd erupted into chaos. Rotten vegetables and empty ale mugs began to rain down onto the arena sands. They weren't angry that Bob lost; they were angry that they had lost their money. The odds had been 50 to 1. The House had just cleaned them out.
Sebastian ignored the trash being thrown at him. He turned and walked toward the registration cage, the iron gate creaking open to let him pass.
Inside the waiting area, the Orc bookie was staring at him with his one good eye wide open. The mechanical lens of his other eye whirred frantically, zooming in and out on Sebastian as if trying to find the hidden cheat code tattooed on his forehead.
"Pay me," Sebastian said, his voice cutting through the Orc's stupor.
The Orc blinked, then grunted, shaking his head. "I... The judges are reviewing the match log. Magic damage of that scale from a Level 10 Drifter... it flags the anti-cheat system."
"The system didn't flag anything," Sebastian replied coldly. "Because the system knows I played by the rules. I just played better."
He leaned forward, placing his hands on the counter. "My 50 gold. Plus the winnings. That's 2,550 gold. Hand it over."
The Orc hesitated. This was a massive sum for the low-tier bracket. But as he looked into Sebastian's eyes, he felt a chill that had nothing to do with the damp underground air. It was the gaze of a predator looking at prey.
"Fine," the Orc growled. He opened a heavy iron safe and shoved a heavy bag of coins across the counter.
[System: You have acquired 2,550 Gold.]
Sebastian swept the bag into his inventory. He didn't leave.
"Put me in again," Sebastian said.
The Orc paused. "You want to go again? The crowd hates you. They think you're a hacker."
"Good," Sebastian said, a cruel smile touching his lips. "Anger makes people bet irrationally. Put me in the next slot. All 2,550 gold on myself."
The Orc's mechanical eye spun. "You're crazy. The House will match you against a counter. If you have a one-shot magic trick, they'll send someone you can't hit."
"Do it."
Five minutes later, the loudspeakers crackled to life.
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! THE GLITCHER RETURNS!"
The announcer's voice dripped with malice, clearly trying to incite the crowd.
"IN THE RED CORNER, THE SHADOW OF THE DEPTHS, THE UNTOUCHABLE... SWIFT_STRIKE!"
The gate opened, and a figure darted out. It was a Rogue, clad in tight-fitting black leather armor that shimmered with enchantments. He held two green-glowing daggers.
[Player: Swift_Strike]
[Level: 13]
[Class: Assassin]
[Agility: 45]
Swift_Strike was famous in the lower brackets. He was a "Dodge Tank" build. He put every single stat point into Agility. He was so fast that most warriors couldn't even target him.
"And in the Blue Corner... the man who broke the game... ZERO!"
Boos rained down. The crowd screamed insults.
"Kill the hacker!"
"Cut his throat, Swift!"
Swift_Strike laughed, spinning his daggers. "Hey, glitch-boy. Nice trick with the shield. But you can't cut what you can't see."
[Combat Start!]
Swift_Strike vanished.
[Skill: Stealth]
The arena appeared empty. The crowd cheered. This was the counter. If Sebastian relied on a targeted spell like Dimensional Sever, he needed a target. You couldn't target a stealthed Assassin moving at 45 Agility.
Sebastian stood perfectly still in the center of the arena. He closed his eyes.
To the audience, it looked like he had given up.
'He's blind!'
'Get him!'
But in Sebastian's mind, the world was a grid of mana. His [Void Ocean] passive didn't just give him infinite mana; it made him sensitive to the flow of energy in the environment.
He could feel the disturbance in the air. A ripple of displacement moving to his left. Fast. Very fast.
Swift_Strike was circling him, waiting for the perfect backstab angle.
'Three meters... two meters... he's going for the kidneys,' Sebastian analyzed instantly.
The ripple moved behind him.
Swift_Strike broke stealth, his dagger glowing with [Backstab]—a skill that dealt 300% damage.
"Gotcha!" the Assassin screamed.
The dagger was inches from Sebastian's spine.
Sebastian didn't turn around. He didn't use Dimensional Sever. That skill had a cooldown, and he didn't want to show the same trick twice.
Instead, he channeled his infinite Skill Points into a Basic Elementalist skill he had picked up in the village but never used.
[Skill: Static Field (Tier 0)] -> [Evolution] -> [Tier 1: Lightning Shell] -> [Evolution] -> [Tier 3: Thunder god's Robe].
[Skill Activated: Thunder god's Robe]
[Effect: Surrounds the caster in high-voltage plasma. Any physical contact deals massive Lightning damage and induces Paralysis.]
BZ-Z-Z-Z-T!
A sphere of blue-white electricity exploded outward from Sebastian's skin.
It wasn't a projectile. It was an aura. There was no need to aim.
Swift_Strike's dagger touched the electric field.
There was a sound like a thunderclap trapped in a bottle.
"AAAAGH!"
The Assassin's body convulsed. The electricity didn't just shock him; it arc-welded his leather armor to his skin. His nervous system was overloaded instantly.
[-4,500 (Lightning Damage)]
[Status: Paralyzed (Permanent)]
Swift_Strike was blasted backward, flying ten meters through the air like a ragdoll before crashing into the arena wall. He slid down, smoking, his HP bar completely grayed out.
One second.
From the moment he broke stealth to the moment he hit the wall, exactly one second had passed.
Sebastian opened his eyes. The electricity around him faded, leaving only the smell of ozone and burnt leather.
He looked up at the stunned crowd.
"Next," he said.
The silence this time wasn't just shock. It was fear.
They weren't looking at a Drifter anymore. They were looking at a monster in human skin.