Tiger's Fight

As punishment for being killed as "raw material," Bartitas made all the Contractors go without lunch.

The Contractors weren't particularly bothered. Going without food or water for a long time would put them in a [Weakness] state, reducing all their stats by 10%, but it wouldn't kill them. Besides, they'd all stored at least some food and water in their Space Marks.

Bartitas seemed strict, but in truth he was indulgent. His punishment had effectively opened the door to bloody slaughter among the Contractors. His punishments only applied to ordinary people. As long as they killed one another out of the guards' sight and left no witnesses, they wouldn't face severe consequences.

So during the lunch break, Kirk witnessed something like the Warring States vying for supremacy. People whispered, formed factions, plotted and schemed, and pointed fingers. Nearly thirty Contractors were joining forces and forging alliances; the situation was even more complicated than international politics in the twenty-first century.

Little Fatty looked uneasy. Some people were clearly pointing at him and his big brother.

"Big brother, maybe we should go make some connections and join a team? It looks like everyone's forming factions and looking for protection."

"No need." Kirk sighed. "Even if we wanted to join, they might not truly accept us. And if they had ulterior motives, that'd be even more dangerous. Contractors are deeply wary of one another. It's hard for them to trust one another enough to work together to kill. I've always felt that an alliance on the surface is more dangerous than open hostility. If we can't cooperate wholeheartedly, we're better off on our own." He wouldn't recruit people lightly, and he certainly wouldn't casually join someone else.

The Arab with the bushy beard whom Vero had beaten looked a lot like Saddam Hussein. He gathered six or seven Muslim Contractors and formed the "Muslim Brotherhood." Little Fatty simply called him Saddam. Since they shared the same faith, the Muslims greeted one another with religious salutations as soon as they met. They didn't seem to care about the divide between Sunnis and Shiites, and then they patted one another on the back, acting very chummy. Kirk reckoned theirs was the most harmonious faction of all.

The burly, bearded man who had challenged Spartacus claimed he was from America and the leader of a cult, though he refused to name the cult. He joined forces with five Contractors to form a loose alliance, with himself at its head. This cult leader was charismatic and eloquent. He seemed to have been in the Space for a long time, and the others trusted him deeply.

Together with the gang led by the Black One-Eyed Dragon who had been the first to kill for loot, the Contractors were now split into three factions. Still, quite a few had chosen to go it alone. Two people caught Kirk's attention: an MT carrying a large round shield, and a female Magician dressed in white. Neither had joined any faction. Perhaps they were confident in their strength and didn't want to follow anyone else, or perhaps they were still weighing which side to join.

Once the Spheres of Influence had been divided, the Contractors in the various factions began eyeing Kirk and the others—the "unaffiliated"—with undisguised ill intent. It was clear they meant to pick off the weak first. But with factions springing up everywhere and infighting within each one, the situation remained deadlocked through lunch, and no new bloodshed occurred.

The afternoon training went on as usual. Kirk and Little Fatty continued slacking off, the gladiators continued beating the "raw material," the Contractors continued holding back, and Dochet continued cursing—until an unexpected bloody incident occurred.

The young Contractor training with Cress had been slapped in the face by him over and over. At last, the young man snapped! Even a rabbit would bite when cornered, let alone a Contractor who'd roamed the worlds of countless stories!

Without saying a word, he pulled a sharp German hand-and-a-half sword and a gleaming half-body steel shield from the Space. The sight was very Captain America. He raised his right fist high, extended his thumb, then slowly turned it downward, making a fiery taunt from the Roman era! He clearly had great confidence in his own strength and had decided to break with Cress and fight him for real!

Cress paused, smiled faintly, then raised his right hand and turned his thumb down as well.

The Contractor roared and suddenly swung his German hand-and-a-half sword in a powerful horizontal slash! His Strength must have been over 15. The sharp, heavy sword made a sound like wind and thunder in his hand, leaving streaks of sword-shadow as it whistled toward Cress's left arm!

Kirk wielded a long saber himself, so he could tell at a glance that the man's [Basic Large Sword Mastery] was definitely above level five—at least as high as his own!

Anyone who made it into the ranks of the Contractors was a hidden talent. There were no deadweights!

Cress sneered and casually parried with his wooden sword.

A training Whiteboard wooden sword against a Contractor's elite Enchanted Weapon!

The two mismatched swords clashed with a metallic ring!

The Contractor was knocked back two or three steps. An expression of disbelief appeared on his face. Every Contractor was stunned.

Even the strongest Contractor wouldn't dare claim he could block this close-combat Contractor's full-strength strike with a wooden sword.

Cress gave an evil grin. "Not bad, not bad. So you're not all cowards. Some of you actually dare to challenge me and swing a sword. But after what happened last night, I'm in a foul mood. I feel like killing someone today, so I provoked you. Die, idiot!"

Then he launched a fierce attack.

A vicious side slash came in, and the Contractor blocked it with his shield. Cress quickly withdrew his sword, then sent a nimble upward slash at him. The Contractor dodged with a quick step. Kirk could tell his [Basic Footwork] was above level five as well.

A satisfied look appeared on Cress's face, while the Contractor's expression grew even more grave. As a close-combat expert, he had already felt his opponent's "aura"—the murderous, savage presence of someone who had slaughtered countless foes on the battlefield.

Cress lunged forward with a sliding step. The Contractor sneered and had just raised his shield to block when he saw Cress's footwork suddenly change beneath it. A warning cry rang in the Contractor's mind, but it was already too late!

Cress used a feint to draw out the Contractor's defense, then rolled behind him like a swallow cutting through clouds and plunged the wooden sword deep beneath his ribs!

The Contractor wasn't fatally wounded because Cress still wanted to play with him. He'd merely driven the sword hard into his ribs, breaking two of them and partially piercing an internal organ. The pain was unbearable.

A vicious glint flashed in the Contractor's eyes. Suddenly, his aura exploded!

Kirk couldn't quite describe it, but he could tell the Contractor had used some kind of special advanced ability or hidden talent.

In fact, the Contractor's hidden talent was [Power Burst], similar to KOF's Power Gauge: for 60 seconds, he unleashed his full potential, increasing all his stats by 30%. After 60 seconds, he would enter [Deep Weakness], reducing all his stats by 30% for 300 seconds.

If he couldn't kill his enemy, all that awaited him was death.

He was throwing everything he had into it.

Cress saw the change and actually laughed with delight. Then he held his wooden sword steady and charged.

Just 34 seconds later, the close-combat specialist, fighting at 130% of his full strength, had both legs broken and was kneeling on the ground. Cress brought his sword down, and a fine head with eyes wide in fury flew into the air. The cut across the neck was perfectly smooth. The white cervical nerves still twitched, the blood vessels still spurted, but the head was gone. Life had left the body!

The Contractors watched in horror. In terms of stats, this Contractor hadn't been much weaker than Cress after his burst, yet he'd still ended with his head rolling on the ground.

"His combat awareness and instincts are nowhere near good enough!" the One-Eyed Dragon snorted.

Little Fatty didn't understand. Kirk explained, "If a wild Manchurian tiger and a captive-bred one were about the same size, which would win in a fight?"

"The wild tiger, of course. It has to keep hunting, or it'll starve to death. The captive-bred tiger might be just as big and strong, but it's a hothouse flower. Hunting is only an interest and an instinct. Their use of strength, mastery of technique, and killing instincts are worlds apart." Kirk sighed. "Our strength as Contractors comes from the Space, not from training ourselves. So we can never use it with the same natural ease and control as gladiators."

By now, all the Contractors understood. In this story world, many of them hadn't taken things seriously. They assumed they'd only been unable to beat the gladiators because they'd been holding back. What they hadn't realized was that the gladiators had been holding back too!

If both sides fought for real, most of them would be the ones losing their heads.

Many had entered the cattle pen with the lofty attitude of "a hidden master living among ordinary people." But now, looking at the shabby cattle pen, they saw it for what it truly was: a prison. The training camp had more than thirty highly skilled gladiators. Even if the Contractors joined forces and staged a revolt, they'd still be slaughtered one by one.

After killing the close-combat specialist, Cress carried the blood-soaked head away, humming a Roman tune and walking with an easy stride. The instructor, Dochet, shouted for him to come back, but Cress was a champion gladiator and a money-making star. He didn't even care about his master, Bartitas—why would he care about a Black slave's words? Dochet gritted his teeth in fury and roared at the remaining gladiators to train harder.

The Contractors still hadn't recovered from the shock when another blow came. A Contractor from the "Muslim Brotherhood" was stabbed in the thigh by a gladiator and bled so much he couldn't continue training. Dochet sent word to Bartitas. Bartitas cursed the gladiator for striking too hard, but then ordered people to take the Contractor away. The gladiator followed. He returned a while later with blood on his sword, and the Contractor never came back.

After they returned at dusk, the Contractors settled down. The tense atmosphere from lunchtime, when swords had nearly been drawn and everyone's hair stood on end, was gone. No matter how much loot they might gain, if they didn't live long enough to leave, there'd be no point in collecting any number of Bloody Keys.

That afternoon, Cress's combat skills and Bartitas's cruelty had taught the self-satisfied Contractors a lesson. Their main conflict had shifted from brutal hunting among the Contractors to a twofold conflict: Contractors against gladiators, and Contractors against one another.

The American with the bushy beard stood up and spoke loudly.

"Everyone! I've looked into it. Bartitas plans to outdo his rival, the fat Andinus, at the gladiator games during the Dionysia Festival in Marseille seven days from now, winning both fame and fortune. To achieve that, I heard him tell Dochet that it didn't matter if we, the raw material, were used up faster. The important thing was to train the gladiators as quickly as possible. Tonight, he's heading to Gaul to buy another batch of raw material!"

The Contractors erupted into an uproar, whispering among themselves.

"I'm telling you, if that's the case, think about how many of us will make it through these seven days! The camp's rule is that if raw material is crippled, a gladiator who isn't good enough will be ordered to kill them the same day, so they don't waste food. I've nearly been crippled by that son of a bitch at least three times. In the Space, being crippled is a small problem. Here, it's a matter of life and death! Who can guarantee they won't get hurt fighting gladiators like mad dogs? You? You? Or you?" the bearded man roared.