Chapter 171: Lost and Found
’What the fuck is happening?!’
Gideon cursed internally. He was profoundly frustrated, the sheer disorientation making his head spin. But Gideon was a trained Exterminator. He didn’t lose his cool. If he couldn’t trust his sense of direction to climb the pole and take her flag, he would bring her down to him and wouldn’t let her do the same.
Gideon channeled every ounce of his physical mana into his right iron gauntlet. He pulled his fist back and delivered a devastating, earth-shattering punch directly into the reinforced base of his own red pillar.
CRACK!
The concussive shockwave buckled the alloy foundation. The towering pole groaned violently before snapping at the base, tilting heavily toward the ground. He had succeeded in bringing both the pole and the girl down.
But Ressa was an elite for a reason. As the pillar plummeted, she calmly lashed her whip upward, wrapping the glowing cord tightly around the red flag at the apex. With a sharp yank, she tore the flag free mid-air. Instead of falling with the debris, she kicked off the collapsing metal, using the momentum to flip gracefully backward. She landed softly on the sand, safely behind Gideon, clutching the red flag in her hand.
Gideon roared, instantly pivoting to chase her down. But the moment he took a step, his body violently betrayed him again, his legs pulling him diagonally toward the water instead of straight at his opponent.
He was far past frustrated at this point. His brain was actively lying to him. So, Gideon forced himself to stop thinking. He completely ignored his spatial instincts, his peripheral vision, and his sense of balance.
He fixed his gaze purely on the visual image of Ressa’s back as she sprinted toward the center of the arena. He ran completely blind, adjusting his steps second by second based entirely on keeping her centered in his line of sight.
"He’s fighting through the sensory disruption!" the female commentator cheered. "Vance is closing the distance!"
But it was all in vain. Ressa was simply too far ahead, and Gideon’s constant micro-corrections slowed his normally terrifying speed.
Ressa reached the pristine white marble altar in the center of the river. With a triumphant, mocking smile directed right at the struggling Warrior, she slammed the red flag directly into the central slot.
The stadium lights flared brilliantly. The massive buzzer blared, freezing the digital clock.
"AND THAT IS THE MATCH!" the male commentator screamed over the roaring crowd. "A flawless tactical victory! Ressa secures the flag capture, leaving the powerhouse of Varisus entirely in the dust!"
Gideon stood panting on the red sand, his massive fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned a stark white. The deafening roar of the crowd chanting Ressa’s name washed over him, but all he felt was a profound, suffocating numbness.
He had lost. Zero points.
His face contorted into a deep scowl of raw frustration and unfiltered anger as the stasis seal lifted. He didn’t look up at the VIP boxes. He didn’t wave to the cameras. He just turned on his heel as he marched down the dark exit tunnel. He did not return to the spectating area.
Back in the spectating zone, the atmosphere had plummeted to absolute rock bottom. The entire team sat in stunned, heavy silence, the glowing broadcast of the arena casting long, depressing shadows across their faces.
Zero points in the first round. It was a catastrophic start. To qualify for the team rounds, every individual member needed to accumulate at least 1,000 points across the solo phase. With this massive deficit, Gideon’s path had just become an agonizingly steep uphill battle.
Rol cursed under his breath, pushing himself off the wall. He shoved his hands into his pockets and started toward the door. "I’m going to go talk to him."
"Stop, Rol," Claire ordered, her voice tight with stress. She reached out, grabbing his arm. "Your match is still pending. If your name pops up on the bracket and you’re wandering the halls, We can’t afford that."
She looked over her shoulder. "Sora. You go."
Sora nodded immediately, her expression grim but determined. "On it." She slipped out of the room, the heavy doors hissing shut behind her.
Once she was gone, Claire sank back onto the leather couch, burying her face in her hands. She clutched her blonde hair, a massive migraine throbbing behind her eyes. Everything was falling apart.
If Hide was randomly chosen today and he didn’t show up, they would suffer a second devastating forfeit. Gideon’s chances of making the 1000-point threshold had already plummeted to less than fifty percent, and frankly, she wasn’t entirely sure Evelyn had the combat power to safely secure 1000 points either. If Hide failed to appear, only two or three of the team would qualify for the group stages.
The tournament raged on without them. The artificial sky over the stadium shifted as the matches ticked by, the commentators continuously hyping up new prodigies. Twenty minutes later, the doors hissed open and Sora walked back in. She looked tired.
"How is he?" Claire asked, looking up.
"Furious," Sora sighed, dropping into a chair. "But he said he’ll be alright. He swore he’d reach 1000 points no matter what he has to break to do it. But he went outside the stadium for some fresh air. He said he needed some space to clear his head."
The hours dragged on like molasses. The energy in the stadium remained electric, but inside the Varisus box, it was pure agony. By the time the artificial lighting in the dome shifted to a deep, twilight orange, the tournament had reached the 53rd match of the second day.
There were only five matches remaining on the schedule. Rol, Claire, and Hide had not been called yet.
Rol leaned his head back against the wall, letting out a long, exhausted sigh. "Hope that dumbass does not get selected today. If we get one more day, maybe he’ll finally show up."
Claire shot him a vicious glare, her red eyes practically glowing with irritation. "Ugh... don’t jinx that, damn it!"
BEEP!
The sharp, electronic chime echoed through the silent room. Every single head in the compartment snapped toward the holographic terminal.
The screen mounted directly on the empty seat—Hide’s chair—flashed brilliantly. He had been selected for the 54th match!
Dead silence filled the room. Claire, Sora, and Evelyn all slowly turned their heads to glare daggers at Rol.
Rol raised both of his hands in surrender, giving a helpless, deadpan shrug. "I am not the one choosing people! Looks like we just got bad luck. The kid is out."
Claire’s heart dropped into her stomach. It was over.
Down in the massive stadium, the artificial twilight shifted back to a blinding daylight setting. The massive river map from earlier match faded, the floor grinding and shifting into a dense, multi-tiered ruined cityscape.
"Ladies and gentlemen, keep your energy up! We have an incredibly exciting match ahead of us!" the male commentator boomed, his voice rattling the dome. "On the Red Side, we have a veteran Brawler from the Eastern Continent!"
The crowd cheered politely, but the commentators quickly shifted focus.
"But on the Blue Side, we have a true anomaly!" the female commentator practically screamed into her mic. "A mysterious rookie who awakened a mere three months ago! Despite his lack of experience, he somehow managed to secure a prime spot on the legendary Commander Maddox’s team!"
"That’s right!" the male commentator cut in, hyping the crowd into a frenzy. "His Unique Class is something completely undocumented! It has never been seen before in our historical records! And most of you probably know him from the viral video feed—the rookie who exposed and humiliated a rotted A-Rank branch commander! The internet has dubbed him... Black Justice!"
The crowd erupted into a deafening, unhinged roar. The anticipation was palpable.
The heavy pneumatic locks on the Blue Side gates hissed. The massive steel doors slowly pulled apart, revealing the dark staging tunnel behind them.
But no one came out.
The seconds ticked by. The roaring crowd slowly quieted down, murmurs of confusion rippling through the three hundred thousand spectators.
Inside the VIP box, Claire covered her face.
"Well... perhaps our young prodigy is taking a moment to mentally prepare himself!" the female commentator chuckled nervously, trying to keep the hype alive. "The pressure of the world stage can be quite overwhelming!"
They kept stalling, analyzing the red side contender’s stats, reviewing the map, doing everything they could to fill the dead air. But five agonizing minutes passed, and the blue tunnel remained entirely empty.
The male commentator finally pressed his earpiece, listening to the judges. He let out a heavy sigh, his tone dropping to one of professional disappointment.
"It looks like our Blue side contender is unable to make it to the match," he announced, the crowd immediately booing in disappointment. "The judges have decided to—"
"STOP!"
Suddenly, a thick, violently swirling mass of pitch-black mist poured into the arena from the open blue gates. It didn’t walk or run; it surged across the ruined cityscape, completely bypassing the obstacles until it reached the very center of the blue zone.
The black mist forcefully converged under the blue pole, spiraling upward and solidifying in the blink of an eye.
The mist faded. Standing perfectly still under the blue flag was a tall, lean figure. His silver-white hair drifted slightly in the artificial wind, and his striking blue eyes, ringed with a faint, lethal violet glow, looked around the arena.
The entire stadium went completely, absolutely dead silent.
Hide tilted his head back, his enhanced vision immediately finding Compartment No. 9 high up in the VIP tiers. Through the smart-glass, he could see Claire and Sora practically trying to jump out through the window in sheer disbelief.
Hide offered a lazy, unapologetic smile and waved a hand.
"Sorry," Hide said, his voice echoing effortlessly across the stunned stadium floor. "I got a little late!"
