Northeast of the Coastal Fortress stood a towering gorge. Between its steep rock walls stretched a broad field of weeds, with tumbleweed-like plants scattered everywhere.
A dozen gray-green military jeeps were parked at the foot of the cliffs. Groups of burly soldiers leaped from the trucks and passed spotlights along in a chain.
Where their beams crossed, all eyes converged on the same place: a battlefield.
General Mike, a corncob Pipe clenched between his teeth, took off his frog-eyed sunglasses and tucked them into his uniform pocket.
He stepped out of the darkness and into the spotlight, drawing every eye like a leading actor walking from backstage onto the stage.
"Gelman," General Mike said to the Hunter in the black suit nearby. "Your opponent is Morton, one of my men."
A man emerged from behind General Mike. He was as tall as a tower, with a crew cut and a neck nearly as thick as his head. The bulky muscles all over his body were taut.
Morton grinned at Gelman, baring a mouthful of white teeth that stood out in the dim light.
General Mike walked to the side to make room and took a puff of his Pipe. "There are no restrictions on how you fight. If you're down for ten seconds and can't get back up, you lose."
Surrounded by his soldiers, he lifted his chin arrogantly. "Any questions?"
"None, General!" Morton answered at once, then rolled his arms, making them crack and pop.
Gelman answered too. "No questions."
"Good." General Mike laughed heartily. "You may begin whenever you're ready."
Morton swung his arms. Nen Energy poured out like white mist and clung to his powerful frame, materializing in an instant as a suit of knight's armor.
The protrusions on his helmet resembled the spikes of a pitfall