Suddenly, Logan’s expression shifted as a thought caught him.

A weapon. He didn’t have a weapon.

He could use the SSS-rank sword, but he felt uneasy using it in this lawless space.

[Master, Do you wish to purchase 10 common Rank daggers? Please note that each one cost 1 system point.]

Logan glanced at the system’s notification. Astra was still as helpful as ever, arriving precisely when he needed her.

Thinking about it, and the prospects of earning far more system points, he nodded.

Instantly, ten gleaming daggers appeared in his system space.

With that, Logan walked towards the center of the cage.

Watching the tall figure with a Devil-like mask calmly walking towards the ring with unhurried footsteps, the crowd immediately understood.

This was Legion.

...

Just as she was about to leave, Avery paused the moment she heard the announcer’s words.

Someone wanted to achieve the same feat she was aiming for?

Only, the person wanted to do it instantly?

Her eyes glimmered with curiosity as she walked back into the arena, her gaze quickly finding the youth moving towards the center of the stage.

...

Outside, Cecilia heard the announcer’s words, and her eyes flickered slightly.

She couldn’t forget that name. The only one who had offered her some words of kindness.

Her thoughts shifted briefly, and after a momentary hesitation, she spoke quickly to the middle-aged man beside her.

"Hey, Luka, you’re in charge for a bit. I’ll be back. I need to quickly attend to something."

"Cilia, your father—" before Luka could finish his words, he realised that Cecilia had vanished into the arena.

His expression tightened. Ultimately he heaved a sigh and leaned back into the chair, something grave settling into his face.

...

The announcer continued, "to make this fight even more interesting, we’ll put Legion against one of our best. Is his goal to accomplish a streak just all talk to garner attention? Or does he have the actual strength?"

The crowd’s excitement surged even higher.

Normally, it was rare to see a fighter attempting a streak.

It was even rarer to see one accomplish it.

Throughout the fight arena’s history, only two people had ever completed streaks.

Not only was fighting opponents in succession difficult, there was also the fact that there wasn’t enough time to recover one’s origin energy.

...

At the center of the stage, a young man with a black mask stood with his back straight, waiting for his opponent.

Soon, a young man with a heavy hammer resting on his shoulder came forward with wide, deliberate strides.

"Whoaaa!! Isn’t that Powerhorn? Didn’t he achieve 6 wins in a row before losing?"

The crowd stirred with shock, not expecting the announcer to actually bring out one of the best fighters present.

The bets began rolling.

Many were hesitant to bet on Legion. They didn’t know enough about him. As such, the majority placed their coins on Powerhorn.

However, a figure in the crowd drew a phone from her pocket and glanced at the betting site.

Her hands stilled.

She looked at Logan, recalling how calm his words had been when he asked for a streak, almost like this was a walk in the park. She couldn’t help herself reaching out to place a bet.

She bet almost half the amount in her account on Logan.

She didn’t know why she trusted him this much. She just... felt confident in his strength.

...

Powerhorn came to stand face to face with Legion.

The two glanced at the announcer at the same moment.

"Are both fighters ready?"

They nodded.

"Fight begin!!!"

The moment his voice faded, the arena held its breath.

Shing!

Multiple daggers appeared mid-air, surrounding Logan.

They swirled and twisted, spinning around him in a tight gleaming circle.

The crowd were slightly taken aback by the display.

Powerhorn seemed unfazed.

Just as he was about to make a move, the daggers surrounding Legion vanished.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

The sound of blades finding their mark rang out, sharp and final.

Before Powerhorn could react, the daggers had pierced his neck, head, arm, and other parts of his body. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝚠𝚎𝚋𝗻𝗼𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝚘𝐦

His eyes went wide, shock still written across his face even in death.

The arena fell deathly silent.

It was... over just like that?

Where was the thrilling battle?

Powerhorn barely even put up a fight.

The announcer, like everyone else, stood momentarily stunned. He cleared his throat.

"Legion wins. 9 more victories to go!"

The moment his voice faded, the crowd finally recovered.

"Damn! I just made 100 silver coins by staking it all on Legion winning!"

"Hahahaha, I knew he was definitely strong!"

"How terrifying! Powerhorn barely put up a fight!"

Videos of the near-instant kill were being posted online at a rapid pace.

The announcer cleared his throat once more.

"Introducing the next challenger! Although he’s relatively new. After partaking in 20 battles, he has only lost 4 of them... ladies and gentlemen! I introduce to you, Warden!"

The moment his voice faded, a young man leapt onto the stage.

The barrier surrounding it shimmered and vanished briefly, letting the man land effortlessly before it rose back into place.

With a blue whale mask, the man glanced up at Legion.

"I can tell you’re strong." He paused, letting his words linger, his ocean blue eyes fixed on Legion. "but that should be one of the first times you’re killing a human right?"

Warden could sense the slight tremble in Legion’s breath. Clearly he wasn’t accustomed to killing.

Legion remained silent, waiting for the announcer to signal the start.

"Are both fighters ready?"

They both nodded. A long sword appeared in Warden’s grasp, fire curling around him like a serpent.

Logan noted that his origin ability was tied to fire.

The flames began spreading outwards, as though they meant to submerge him entirely.

"Fight begin!" the announcer called.

At the same time, seeing the confidence Warden carried, the crowd had long since placed the majority of their bets on him.

Some believed Legion had merely taken advantage of the moment when Powerhorn was distracted.

However...

Shing!

The daggers flew once more.

"Burning wave origin technique!"

Warden moved quickly, fire wrapping tight around him, spreading outwards to block the incoming blades.

Standing calmly, hands still in his pockets, Logan watched the daggers go.

They seemed to have gained a life of their own.

Some flew upward, twisting in mid-air like they had consciousness.

Meanwhile, a few broke low, angling towards Warden’s legs.

"Shit!" Warden cursed, pouring more origin energy into the flames as they surged higher.

Just when relief began settling in, just when he felt certain his fire barrier had closed completely around him, he saw something that shook him to his core.

His fire barrier... parted slightly.

His eyes widened as multiple daggers drove straight through the gap.

The crowd had been quietly relieved watching the thick wall of flame swallow the daggers whole. Logan had finally met his match. A few wore openly gloating expressions.

"Haha... he’s finally encountered his counter! There’s going to be no win for Legion this time."

"It seems my bet on Warden paid—"

Before he could finish, the fire barrier flickered. Then it began receding, pulling back in slow, faltering pulses, gradually revealing Warden’s form.

Once more, the arena went silent.

What appeared before them shook every heart still.

Warden was still standing. A dagger embedded in each eye, one between his brows, and others lodged across his body, blood dripping in a slow and steady rhythm.

He was as dead as could be.

Logan stood in the same unfazed position. His calm voice spread out across the silence.

"Next..."