Eligibility to Compete

"Broly Big Brother, I asked around. The Western Martial Arts Tournament is jointly organized by the Western Merchant Group and the Foreign Merchant Group.

It is held once every year and attracts many skilled competitors each time. There are no age or gender restrictions—as long as you pay the 10,000 Empire Coin registration fee, you can participate.

The tournament begins with the Preliminary Round. As long as you make it into the Top 16, you immediately receive a 100,000 prize. From 16 to 8, 8 to 4, 4 to 2, and 2 to 1, the advancement bonus doubles with every match. In other words, if you win the championship, you can receive 1.6 million in prize money.

Besides that, there are also Betting Houses run by merchant groups around the tournament. If we bet all the money we have left and keep winning our way through, we'll definitely make a fortune."

After Nahash finished speaking, the children in the room cheered. No one doubted Broly's strength. They all believed that as long as their big brother entered the tournament, he would easily win the championship.

Ever since they had disbanded the caravan, their reputation had been spread around by the caravan members who left.

Burdened by that reputation, fewer and fewer good people came knocking on their door.

Broly was also the type who could eat a lot. With both people and horses to feed, and after sending another five people home—with settlement money, of course—the group's funds had become rather tight.

It was not until they headed toward their next target city and passed through Great West City, the most prosperous capital of the Great Western Territory, that the group of sixteen temporarily settled down after seeing Western Martial Arts Tournament promotional posters hanging all over the city.

"Then what are we waiting for? Take me to register!"

Broly said happily. He was already impatient to go make a lot of money.

Honestly, if Fujimura Taiga had not taught him in his previous world not to steal or rob, Broly might have long since become a thoroughly integrated great thief under the influence of the simple and honest local customs of the Empire's Great Western Territory. How could he possibly have had to worry about lacking money?

"No need to rush, Big Brother. There's still one day until registration closes, so we can register tomorrow. Right now, I want to gather some information about the Betting Houses, but it might be a little dangerous to go alone, so I want you to come with me."

"Got it. We can look for good people while we're at it."

Broly liked good people who came to rob them, so he hurried out with Nahash. The others did not follow them—if there were too many people, good people would not take the bait so easily.

Unfortunately, after making the rounds of the major betting houses and finding out the betting rules for the upcoming Western Martial Arts Tournament, no one followed them.

Broly sighed repeatedly. Good people seemed to be getting smarter and smarter these days. Today's expenses would have to come out of his group's already shriveled wallet again.

"It's okay. Even though we don't have much money left, as long as Big Brother competes, I believe he'll definitely fill our wallet back up!"

After returning to the inn, Boni comforted him while they ate in the inn's dining hall.

Broly nodded, turning his gloom over not meeting any good people today into appetite. He quickly cleaned the huge platter of roasted meat in front of him.

"Hahaha! A bunch of kids who aren't even as tall as my legs are boasting without shame. Do you think the Western Martial Arts Tournament is a place for children like you to play house?"

One of the diners nearby burst out laughing. The man was tall and powerfully built, with a broad frame and thick limbs. His hands were wrapped in layers of bandages, and he was dressed like a Martial Artist. He had clearly also come for the Western Martial Arts Tournament.

"Eh? Isn't it a competition that anyone can enter as long as they have the money to pay the registration fee?"

Nahash, acting as the group's spokesperson, took the initiative to ask.

"Ha! Those people who pay registration fees are just one-round participants there to experience the atmosphere. True competitors are powerful warriors like me, who can earn the right to compete from the organizers through sheer strength."

As the strong man spoke, he flexed his arms, broad enough to ride horses across, displaying the knotted muscles on them to the children.

"Eh, this guy looks kind of familiar."

"I think so too. Wait, if you ignore the beard, isn't he Sambasan?"

"So it's him. He made it into the Top 8 during his first tournament five years ago, and three years ago he nearly won the championship. But he hasn't competed for two years. Why is he entering again?"

Hearing the commotion, the people around them began discussing the bearded strong man after recognizing him.

As Sambasan listened to the surrounding discussion, a smug expression appeared on his face.

As a Martial Artist, hearing others talk about how strong he was gave his vanity immense satisfaction.

However, some people also complained about how he had made them lose money back then.

Sambasan's expression turned somewhat serious, and he suddenly stood up.

"What are you doing?"

The person who had complained was startled by his movement, thinking that this bad-tempered fellow was about to beat him up.

"I'm sorry. Back then, I simply wasn't strong enough."

To everyone's surprise, Sambasan apologized voluntarily. But then he loudly addressed everyone in the dining hall.

"However, for the past two years, I have been undergoing arduous training in Jiffonora Sea Tree Forest. A manager from my friend, the Degas Merchant Association, approached me and asked me to come out of seclusion and fight on behalf of their caravan.

The Degas Merchant Association sells the finest Dustproof Cloaks in the western Empire. This year, I will stand upon the championship stage of the Martial Arts Tournament wearing their caravan's newest cloak.

If you all want to make money, then support me, Sambasan! Support the Degas Merchant Association! Bet on Sambasan to win!"

"So the Degas Merchant Association invited him. No wonder he came out to compete again."

"Gasp, Jiffonora Sea Tree Forest? That's an extremely dangerous place crawling with Danger Beasts. If Sambasan could undergo arduous training in a place like that for two years, wouldn't he be countless times stronger than before?"

"Good, this year's Martial Arts Tournament will be worth watching. Not only is last year's rookie champion competing, but there are also powerful veteran fighters who have made it into the Top 8 multiple times..."

"Sambasan, we believe in you! Don't let us down this time!"

"Hahaha, no problem! Just leave everything to me, Sambasan!"

The strong man slapped his chest with loud thumps, making the ears of those nearby ache. After delivering a championship-winning promotional declaration for his sponsor in the bustling dining hall, Sambasan sat back down.

He looked at the table of children beside him and grinned. "If you kids want to earn some pocket money, remember to bet on Lord Sambasan to win."

"If you lose, will you compensate us?"

Kurome asked curiously.

"Ahem, ahem. Naturally, everyone bore their own profits and losses. But do you really think I, Sambasan, would lose?"

The children all curled their lips. They did not know how strong this man was, but they knew exactly how powerful their big brother was.

"Uncle Sambasan, could I ask what it means to obtain a spot in the tournament directly through the organizers?"

However, Nahash remained very polite as he asked the strong man, who had competed many times before, about a few things.

In truth, a martial arts tournament concerned not only the competing Martial Artists, but also the major merchant groups organizing it. They funded the tournament to draw public attention, while privately hiring certain competitors to represent their merchant associations in the matches.

As long as a selected competitor made it into the Top 16 and stepped onto the main arena, it would greatly boost the merchant association's reputation. It proved that the association was just as formidable as the contestants fighting in the ring.

Thus, competitors like Sambasan, who were invited to fight on others' behalf, appeared. Not only did they not need to pay an entry fee, they could even get paid to compete.

Of course, ordinary competitors would not catch the merchant associations' attention. Only those with formidable strength would qualify.

Moreover, that strength could not come from weapons, because the Western Martial Arts Tournament did not permit competitors to use them.

Even protective gear was limited to gloves and bandages. This was a contest of pure physical strength and unarmed fighting skill between the competitors.

Nahash committed this information to memory, then spent the next day asking whether any merchant associations were willing to sponsor competitors.

But after running around for half a day, every merchant association that had shown interest changed its tune upon hearing that the competitor was a newcomer and still a child, telling them to go play in the mud instead.

"Damn it, they're all a bunch of fools who can't recognize real greatness."

The children who had been following him around making inquiries all grumbled angrily.

"Maybe we should have Broly Big Brother show them what he can do," Mine suggested.

"Forget it. It's only a tournament spot, and that money wouldn't even cover a day's Meal Money for us. Besides, the sponsorship fees those merchant associations offer to newcomers are practically nothing. We don't need that little bit of money."

The merchant associations Nahash and the others could reach were all small ones; they had no connections to the major associations. And amid the fierce competition of the martial arts tournament, the small associations did not expect their sponsored fighters to make the Top 16. They only hoped to show their faces on the smaller arenas in the later stages of the Preliminary Round, so they could not offer much money.

That paltry sum would probably only cover one day of their big brother's meals. Were they really going to make their big brother show off his skills just for one day's Meal Money?

Even if Broly Big Brother himself would not mind, Nahash felt it would be insulting. At the very least, it would have to cover several days.

"Hey, are you really that confident in your big brother?"

Just as Nahash was preparing to register Broly, a white-bearded Old Man in a suit stopped them.

"Of course. Our big brother is stronger than anyone else. Uh, who are you, Old Man?"

"I am the steward of the Rabbit Gathering Merchant Association's branch in the Western Region. You may call me President Norsen. Our association happens to be short on a competitor. Would you be willing to accept our sponsorship?"

"Our big brother is very strong, so he doesn't come cheap. If you only intend to offer a little money, then forget it."

Nahash gave him a reminder.

"Haha, confidence is a good thing. How about this? As long as your big brother qualifies, our merchant association will pay the corresponding Match Prize Money.

"One hundred thousand for the Top 16, two hundred thousand for the Top 8. If your big brother wins the championship, the reward will be 1.6 million. What do you say?"

Nahash's eyes lit up at those words. This was no small offer.

"Fine, but we need to sign a contract."

"You're quite thorough."

Norsen smiled and agreed without refusing.