As a piercing, high-frequency air-raid siren rang across the Central Main Plaza, four walls of deep-blue energy shielding sealed shut.
The arena held twenty thousand people. The instant the countdown reached zero, it became a meat grinder governed by nothing but raw violence.
There were no weapons. The Military had confiscated every firearm and blade, even removing the metal buttons from their Training Uniforms beforehand.
Everyone had to fight barehanded, relying only on their bodies, Blood Energy, and the basic combat techniques taught by the Military.
Crack!
The dull thuds of bodies colliding and the teeth-grating snaps of breaking bones erupted like a tidal wave the moment the shields rose.
Recruits who had stood shoulder to shoulder one second drove their fists into each other's jaws the next.
For one of the ten thousand regular army positions, for powered armor and Federation Martial Arts, desperate hunger filled every bloodshot eye.
Above the chaotic battlefield, hundreds of pitch-black Medical Drones hovered silently like steel vultures drawn by the scent of blood.
The moment someone suffered a fracture or internal bleeding, became completely unable to move, or broke down and shouted their surrender, a scarlet scanning beam beneath a drone would lock on.
Then an invisible tractor beam descended and dragged the eliminated recruit beyond the energy shield without mercy, like a dead dog.
The survivor count on the giant screen plunged at a terrifying rate of dozens per second.
In this brutal arena, the recruits quickly learned a harsh truth firsthand: Blood Energy and stamina ran out fast.
Although Quasi-Martial Artists had grown much stronger, their control over their bodies remained crude.
Every full-force punch and every block drained oxygen from their muscle fibers and Blood Energy from their organs.
At this stage, they simply did not have enough Blood Energy