The pugilist"s avatar was named Sam. And it could be shown by his in-game skills that he hadn"t been given his current rank by merit. He wasn"t well known through the battle center as the community was still young, but the few who knew him were aware of his condition. He was part of Spinters" family, his nephew to be more precise. Due to that, he had been given quite the advantage compared to the others. As there were more rooms than there are top rankers, he had managed to get himself a top-quality one after nagging his uncle for days.

Lately, he had used the same kind of privilege to get matched against Fell"s avatar Stroke every time both of them would be logged in. He was aware that if his uncle learned the truth, then it might lead to him getting problems, but he couldn"t stop himself from doing so. Thankfully the matter wasn"t as severe as it was, and he hadn"t broken any significant rules. He only needed to promise a few things to the team that managed the servers.

As the nephew of the current chairman, he was quite liked in the battle center"s worker team.

"I knew it!" he thought as he prepared himself a meal in the small kitchen that was in the large room. "Fighting barehanded does have its own advantages!" he thought while remembering Fell"s last move. "My next goal is to learn this skill!" he thought as he remembered the way Fell had acc.u.mulated strength in his limb before releasing it. "But how is it possible to store energy in one"s muscles?!", he thought as he clenched his fist and tried to flex his forearm as much as he could.

He was quite the rarity in their local battle center as he had chosen to brawl the other user barehanded. He had kept doing so from the first time he had played the game. It all came down to a simple reason, the sensation of his fist connecting with his opponent"s body left his body tingle from adrenaline. For someone who had been sheltered all of his life, this new primal feeling left him hooked like an addict. He didn"t care about winning or losing, and the only thing that made him want to progress was that he wanted to discover more of what he could do.

Although the game came with quite the pain, he had learned to shut it down as he knew that it wouldn"t last. Thankfully he hadn"t tried to do it in real life as he knew that his current body was far from the specs of his avatar. Although he wasn"t frail and had managed to build his body to a decent state, he was still a mortal, and punching through a wall was still just a fantasy, but he knew that the game had much more to offer. His uncle might not be capable of opening him the way of cultivation, but with his own fists, he might accomplish it with battle league.

The more he played, and the further down he progressed in his path. The further his beliefs solidified, meeting with Fell was an example that the road in the front of him was still grand. He cheered himself as he enjoyed the noodles he had made, before swiftly logging back in the game. "I can"t meet him again without showing any decent results…", he thought as he dabbled with the option from the matchmaking. His finger slid on the wall filled with options in front of him before entering the biggest queue available. A smile appeared on his lips as he saw the system"s notification.


"Match will begin in ten second."

"I will fight! Fight! Fight! Fight!" he exclaimed before his avatar disappeared in the void. Sam didn"t know it himself but armed with his burning pa.s.sion, it didn"t take long for him to turn into an exceptional player.

Back in New Casablanca, in a dense jungle made of metallic sheet and junks named the Core. A large building could be found in the middle of the labyrinth-like crisscrossing streets of the shanty town. Here, it was far away from the grand immaculate sword-like building that climbed to the heavens. The only architecture that could be found were outdated and were considered centuries" old.

Not far from the large lighted building, a man dressed in a grey coat traversed a narrow street at a fast pace. His jacket was patched with several spots and clearly showed that he wasn"t part of a decent social cla.s.s, even in the Core. His walking speed was fast, and every few seconds, his neck would twist around to check if there was any soul following him. His hands were in his coat"s pocket, and he breathed roughly after a dozen of minutes of walking, and he perspired profusely due to his stressed nerves. After turning through several intersections, he stopped in a corner and waited a few minutes.

The man in a grey coat stood in the shadow with his eyes locked on the street he had just pa.s.sed. His breathing was haggard, and his overly beating heart in his chest made him unable to calm down. "C"mon, you are just dreaming… No one is following you…", he mumbled in an inaudible voice in between two breaths. His eyes were gorged red from his stressed state, and he didn"t blink for a few minutes before finally sighing. He clenched his left hand on his shaking arm, and after a few seconds, he finally managed to calm down. He resumed his walk through the dense metallic jungle, and after a few minutes, he arrived in front of a large building. This place was well known by most of the citizen of the Core. It was widely called as the epitomes of evil. If you needed anything shady, be it drugs weaponry or any kind of vices, then that was the place.

"Filthy Jade Palace…", the man mumbled as he stood in front of the lit building.

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