Faceless Owl

"Hurry up, or there won't be any seats left!"

"I know, I know! You've been nagging me all the way from school to the arena. Can you shut the hell up? Is it really that exciting?"

The two young men hurried through a dim underground cavern, surrounded by a crowd of spectators heading in the same direction as them: the fighting arena.

"It's seriously awesome! You won't lose out or get ripped off by watching it!"

"Silver Radiance really ought to pay you for advertising!"

The crowd around them grew larger, and the noisy conversations nearly drowned out their voices. They unconsciously began speaking much louder.

"Quick! There are seats here!"

"Damn, is this what a quarterly tournament is like? There are so many people!"

"If it's no good, you're buying me a late-night snack."

"You got it!"

"Hand-to-hand," "free-for-all," and "quarterly tournament" were among the words that echoed repeatedly through the air.

The fighting had yet to begin, but the area outside the beast-fighting cage was already as noisy as a pot of boiling water.

"Number nine, Owl, in position!"

A staff member's voice came from afar. Lou Shisui stood in the shadows outside the cage entrance, waiting for his turn.

He listened quietly to the discussions in the stands above, savoring the memory of the dinner he had eaten before going underground.

On the main platform outside the beast-fighting cage, the graceful hostess had already begun warming up the crowd.

"Hello, spectators old and new! After a full quarter of selection, the much-anticipated end-of-quarter free-for-all tournament is finally underway once again!"

"In the spirit of diverse development, this season's free-for-all tournament has been divided into six divisions based on the different fighting formats."

"This division is the hand-to-hand arena. Ten elite fighters who stood out in the hand-to-hand arena will battle with their bare bodies inside this brutal beast-fighting cage to claim the title of arena champion!"

"First, allow me to introduce the contestants in this tournament."

"They are number one, Luo Dan; number two, Hook Claw; number three, Diamond; number four, Phantom; number five, Lightning; number six, Bedrock; number seven, Calm the Storm; number eight, Red-Eyes; number nine, Owl; and number ten, Heavy Hammer."

The hostess spoke at a rapid clip, fluently rattling off the long list of contestants' codenames.

As the codenames were listed one by one, the cheers from the stands rose in waves, each louder than the last. The entire venue seemed to catch fire with excitement.

When she called out Owl—Shisui's codename—some particularly loud cheers rang out around the arena as well.

Meanwhile, the old hands who loved betting on fights quickly gathered together and eagerly launched into another round of pre-match predictions.

"Numbers two, five, and nine are speed-oriented fighters. Their matches are usually over fast;"

"Numbers one, four, and eight are technique-oriented, with all kinds of unpredictable skills;"

"The rest all fight with big, sweeping moves. They're the strength-oriented fighters."

"As for realms, numbers three, four, five, six, and seven are fourth realm. The rest are third realm. Number nine is at the early stage of the third realm, the lowest of the lot."

A know-it-all who practically lived at the arena spoke up first, broadly sorting the contestants into three categories right off the bat.

Veteran spectators who had watched just as many matches rolled their eyes and walked away as soon as they heard him. The speculators who didn't come often, on the other hand, pricked up their ears and gathered around to listen closely.

"Impressive, man. I can't even recognize them all. I don't know that number nine."

"You know them like the back of your hand, man. You've watched plenty of hand-to-hand fights, huh? Come on, share!"

"Of course! If you don't know number nine, Faceless Owl, you haven't been to the hand-to-hand arena lately, have you? That show-off's been really popular lately."

"Man, it's normal that you don't know him. Number nine, Owl, is a newcomer who fought his way up in the hand-to-hand matches. He's got six wins in a row."

"Faceless Owl? What's with that? He's even got a prefix?"

"You'll see when he comes out. He wears that stupid hood all day, and so far, nobody's managed to pull it off!"

"Isn't that a bit too much showing off? I'm betting on him!"

"Bet my ass! This is the quarterly tournament. You think it's a regular match?"

"Honestly, if you're judging the quarterly tournament by regular-match records, you might as well give me your money. At least I'd say, 'Thank you, boss.'"

After hearing the know-it-all's introduction, the gamblers couldn't help growing a little more interested in the mysterious Owl.

But being interested was one thing; betting on him to win was another.

A few old gambling addicts with sharp instincts sensed the air of a powerhouse and placed small bets on the mysterious newcomer.

But most of the guys who considered themselves experienced didn't think much of Owl's chances. He had few matches on record and kept himself hidden. The waters were too deep; it was hard to get a read on him!

A younger spectator came over and offered the know-it-all a cigarette before asking, "Boss, it's my first time placing a bet. Can you break it down for me?"

The know-it-all accepted the cigarette and smugly savored being called "boss" for a moment. Then, in a fine mood, he began educating the rookies around him.

"You're new here, so don't bet too much your first time. It's best to pick someone you like the look of and test the waters."

Without waiting for the rookies to respond, he began giving him a more detailed analysis of each contestant's chances of winning.

"First off, rule out the technique-oriented fighters in a hand-to-hand match."

"Those guys all have primary weapons. They're actually technique-oriented fighters who are better at fighting with weapons."

"This kind of hand-to-hand fighting doesn't let them bring out their true strength at all."

"The top technique fighters all go for no-rules fights and item matches. Those who come to hand-to-hand matches generally either couldn't make it over there or came to hone their unarmed combat skills."

"Those technique-oriented fighters don't stand a chance against this bunch who use their bodies as weapons."

Only after listening to the old hand's long-winded speech did one of the rookies find a chance to ask, "Boss, who did you bet on, then?"

He clearly didn't want to listen to the know-it-all ramble anymore. He just wanted to copy his bet on the spot.

After all, the match was about to start. Who had the patience for a recap?

The know-it-all wasn't angry at being cut off. Instead, he enthusiastically began introducing his pick. "I only bet on one strength fighter: number seven, Calm the Storm."

Some of the newcomers promptly followed suit and placed small bets after hearing that.

The rookie who had asked the question, however, didn't rush to bet. "Boss, is there any particular reasoning behind betting on those two?"

"There is, there is!" Seizing the chance to make a recommendation, the know-it-all immediately perked up, with "sincere recommendation" written on one cheek and "fair to young and old" on the other.

He launched into a rapid-fire introduction. "Number seven, Calm the Storm, is something else. Not only does he have the highest cultivation, at the peak of the fourth realm, but he also won the quarterly free-for-all tournament two years ago."

"He's only been away for two years, and the newer spectators don't know this veteran anymore!"

Then he pointed at the black-clad figure now entering the arena.

"That's number nine, Owl. He's only taken part in six hand-to-hand fights, and he's won all six."

"His attacks are swift and ruthless, but he keeps himself hidden. His identity and appearance are still unknown."

"That air of mystery has made him popular, but his realm is the lowest. Aside from the technique fighters, he's the one I'd recommend least."

"He's fought the fewest matches, and every one was a one-on-one fight where he quickly dispatched his opponent. It's hard to say whether that's because he can't last long. Either way, the risk is high. Take my advice and be careful."

But the rookie was no longer listening to the know-it-all. He stared intently at the black figure that had landed inside the beast-fighting cage, his eyes shimmering with flecks of spiritual energy as he carefully scrutinized the distant prey.

Sensing something, Lou Shisui looked up. The Kakugan beneath his pitch-black hood instantly locked onto that gaze.

It was as though they had looked at each other for an instant across the darkness and distance, but Shisui knew perfectly well that the other man hadn't noticed him looking back. He was focused on reading some of his information.

What a familiar feeling, being watched. What could his eyes see?

I really want to dig out his eyes and visual center and take a look!

A hunter who had discovered a monster hiding among ordinary people—who had sent him?

At that moment, the monster bared his vicious fangs, his irritation at being offended turning into a keen interest in the voyeur.