Chapter 4: To Live, You Must Win - 2
Chapter 4: To Live, You Must Win - 2
"Buy me a meal."
Jiha's words.
Enril's expression went blank.
The sight of her, always so overbearing, with her lips slightly parted and blinking in surprise, was utterly beautiful.
She was undeniably a stunning woman, the kind Jiha had rarely seen even on a screen back in Korea.
Jiha scrutinized Enril's face and figure from every angle until she finally came to her senses.
"...What?"
"Treat me to one big, proper meal. Oh, and I don't mean just throwing some money at me and being done with it. We sit down, face to face, and eat."
"..."
"Surely, Supervisor, you can at least do that much for my first win?"
Enril stared at Jiha strangely.
When he brought up their first meeting, she thought he was about to make some absurd demand. But completely unexpected words came out instead.
'The art of negotiation. When a demand weaker than expected comes in, it's hard to refuse outright.'
Jiha wore a sly grin, but he was tense inside.
The woman in front of him was a predator, after all.
'A predator who knows nothing about men, at that...'
This dark elf of peerless beauty knew nothing of men.
As someone who knew women, Jiha could feel it after just a few conversations.
She was dangerous, but there was a gap to exploit.
"..."
Enril maintained a strange silence.
She was the type of woman who might kill a man just for a mere Common having the audacity to ask to see her.
Jiha spoke again.
"Why the face? Just yesterday you were raging, swearing you'd kill me if I lost one more time. After all that, is asking you to buy me a meal if I win really such an excessive request?"
"...You've got guts."
Enril sighed, her eyes narrowing.
There was contempt and fury in her blue eyes, but the violence he had braced for didn't come.
"I'll say it again. The mere fact that a worm like you summoned me here is a grave offense. Taking one of your limbs wouldn't be a problem."
"Commons are the lowest rung of society, but there are only thirty of them on each side, right? My life isn't something you can just take on a whim."
"Hmph."
Enril affirmed with a snort.
She believed in the survival of the fittest, and she despised Jiha for saving his life through surrender.
If she followed her temper, she would have killed him long ago. She had only let it slide due to the unique nature of the Common rank.
Jiha subtly prodded at Enril's temper.
"Or what? Never had a meal alone with a man before?"
"I haven't."
"..."
He knew she was clueless about men, but she'd never even shared a meal with one?
Right now, Enril's feelings were those of disgust at a creature lower than a house pet daring to sit at the same table.
She considered it insubordination.
After a moment of thought, Enril nodded.
"Fine. Your courage is commendable. I accept."
"Really?"
Naturally, Jiha wasn't actually after a free meal.
To grow his vampiric Mana right now, he needed a woman's blood.
But it was hard to even catch a glimpse of a woman inside the barracks.
And after he bit them, then what? How would he handle the aftermath?
'Ultimately, if I make a move, Enril will find out. There's no way she wouldn't. So first, I get closer to Enril and identify her blind spots.'
Then, when the chance came, he would bite Enril.
Jiha hid his true intentions and spoke.
"You won't go back on your word later, right?"
"Dark elves keep their promises. Unlike elves."
Enril's expression turned serious as she glared at Jiha.
"A warrior who fights deserves a reward. Tearing apart a man who climbs up without knowing his place wouldn't satisfy me... but I'll grant you a special pardon. The place for you to die isn't here, but in the arena."
As Enril snarled her threats, Jiha chuckled.
"All this killing intent just because I asked to have a meal together."
"Ah, but I didn't wager anything for when you lose. Now that I think about it, you're on a 28-loss streak. One more to go until 30, right?"
Enril smiled back savagely.
They were smiles of mutual certainty, each convinced of their own victory.
"If you lose, kill yourself. If you don't, I'll make you wish you had."
"Is sharing a meal with you really such an honor? Don't tell me you've never even had an offer like that?"
When Jiha scoffed, Enril was unexpectedly shaken.
She hesitated for a moment before retorting with an openly offended air.
"Don't test me with wordplay."
"So you've heard that one before. I'm getting the short end of the stick here, but I'll accept..."
Jiha shrugged as if making a huge concession.
Enril looked dumbfounded but said nothing.
The wager was set: the life of a Common man on a 28-loss streak, against a meal with a peerlessly beautiful, Unique Grade dark elf.
"Come to think of it... I haven't yet collected the price for summoning me here."
The words came at the same time as a fist driving into Jiha's solar plexus.
He hadn't anticipated the attack would come the instant the negotiation ended, and he staggered.
Thud!
As he stubbornly stayed on his feet, Enril slammed her heel down onto his shoulder.
Unable to hold out, Jiha finally collapsed to the ground. A sensation of pressure pressed down on his head.
Press. Press.
A leather boot pushed down on Jiha's head as an arrogant voice continued.
"You dare summon me here, and then set conditions? A mere man who doesn't know his place... There's a limit to insanity. I accepted it as a warrior's resolve, but there won't be a next time. Even facing a weak, cowardly man like you is revolting."
"..."
Jiha gritted his teeth and endured it.
He wanted to activate his Mana and counterattack instantly, but that would ruin everything.
Since Enril had accepted the condition, now was the time to hide his true ability.
When Jiha showed no reaction, Enril withdrew her foot and stepped back.
"Hmph, I wasted my time on trash for nothing."
As the sound of her footsteps faded, Jiha slowly raised his head.
He didn't bother wiping his dirt-caked face, instead glaring at Enril's retreating figure.
Her voluptuous brown rear swayed with a hypnotic rhythm, but Jiha saw none of it.
"...That bitch. I'm definitely going to bite her."
He had endured enough.
Two days after the wager with Enril was made, Jiha's 29th match approached.
Jiha sat in a chair in his private waiting room.
"Based on the treatment alone, it's hard to tell if I'm a slave or not..."
Socially, he was treated like a slave, but surprisingly, they provided this level of accommodation.
Jiha clenched his fist, and crimson Mana coiled around it.
Over the past few days, he had researched his Bloodsucking Mana.
"I've only been able to absorb the blood of small animals... I had no choice. If I drained the blood of other Commons, I'd be found out."
Through repeated verification, he had gained certainty and a few hypotheses.
The stronger the lifeform, the more Mana Jiha gained.
"The problem is... who the opponent will be."
In the Summoning War, you never knew who you'd be fighting until you stepped out.
Five matches took place per day, and the supervisor decided the order.
"The other side will probably try to match their weakest guy against me."
Jiha was the weakest of all Commons, on a 28-loss streak, a man who had always declared surrender the moment a match began.
The enemy would never expect him to actually fight or use Mana. Commons didn't have Mana.
So they would try to match him against the weakest fighter in their own camp.
"I have a chance..."
Back on Earth, Jiha had honed his body and gone through plenty of rough situations to protect himself.
When you had to cater to the whims of powerful people, you inevitably ended up eating dirt sometimes.
The problem was that he had never been in a real fight using Mana.
Jiha's fate would be decided today in this battle.
His wager with Enril aside, he didn't want to lose.
He had finally gained the power to fight.
Now, he wanted to win.
"Alright..."
Whatever the opponent was, he would beat them down and claim victory.
And when the chance came, Enril, that bitch, he would bite her and...
Stiffen.
"..."
The moment he thought of Enril, Jiha's lower half hardened.
He hadn't touched a woman since being dragged into Warsland.
Still, for it to act up now...
For the thing in his pants to spring to life in this situation.
"..."
On the verge of a fight for his life, and he was in heat.
He had nearly died from messing with the wrong woman, and he still hadn't fixed this habit.
Jiha shook his head when a knock sounded.
Knock knock.
"Ready."
Assuming it was a runner announcing entry time, Jiha answered and stood up.
The person who entered, however, wasn't a Normal male.
It was a woman with red hair, and an extraordinarily beautiful one at that.
If Enril was an arrogant, cold beauty, this woman had a gentle aura about her, like a spring breeze.
But in contrast to her demure face, her chest swelled provocatively.
It swayed softly with every step she took.
"..."
Watching the woman's breasts shake, Jiha unconsciously swallowed.
He wanted to grab and knead them, but this was Warsland, a world of female superiority and male inferiority.
The red-haired woman—Jiha had glimpsed her from afar before.
She was a Unique, the same rank as Enril.
Distracted by her beauty, he was slow to notice the pair of bat wings attached to her back.
The finishing touch was a demon's tail.
"A succubus?"
"Yes, hello. You're Jiha, correct?"
The succubus beauty asked in a soft, gentle voice.
Having only encountered women who ignored and reviled men until now (Enril wasn't the exception but the norm), Jiha was genuinely surprised.
Judging by her speech and actions alone, her attitude was like that of a telephone counselor or a reception desk clerk.
How long had it been since he'd seen such a polite woman? He almost felt moved.
Just as she was about to speak, the succubus's eyes went wide, and her face flushed bright red.
Her gaze was fixed on Jiha's crotch.
Inside his pants, his massively swollen manhood flaunted its imposing presence.
"..."
Back in Korea, this would probably be called sexual harassment. In Warsland, with its female-dominant society, it would be even worse, wouldn't it?
Feeling his enthusiasm suddenly deflate, Jiha shot the succubus an unwelcoming glare.
This private waiting room was Jiha's space. Whether he had an erection or stripped naked, it was his freedom.
This woman outranked him...
He waited to see how she'd react, but the succubus just stood there blushing and stammering.
"..."
Pretending not to look while sneaking glances at his lower abdomen—what kind of game was this?
The mood turned strange: an erect man and a woman, flustered yet demurely silent. Then the door opened again, and a familiar face walked in.
It was the green-skinned orc, Okram.
"Jiha, how's your condition?"
When the other person entered, the succubus jumped in surprise and quickly dipped her head.
"Th-then, please take your time talking! Okram, Jiha!"
"Thank you, Yura."
Not even waiting for Okram's thanks, the succubus fled as if escaping.
Okram explained.
"Yura Hairedeu. She's my supervisor, as I mentioned before. A succubus. Her rank is Unique."
A Unique being polite to a Common. What an unusual woman.
She was demure, a far cry from the typical image a succubus conjured, yet she had openly stared at Jiha's crotch.
Other thoughts could wait. Jiha changed the subject.
"Okram, you don't have a match today, do you? So you would have needed your supervisor's permission to visit my waiting room. What brings you here?"
Enril had raged and committed violence for no reason other than being summoned by a Common.
Yura the succubus seemed incredibly docile by Warsland standards, but she was still a Unique.
Okram had come bearing a considerable burden.
"Today seems like an important match. I came to cheer you on."
"..."
Why suddenly?
He hadn't revealed his wager with Enril or his vampiric Mana to Okram either.
"You've seemed to have a lot on your mind lately. I apologize if my assumption disrupted your focus."
Jiha's chest tightened at the apology.
He'd been dragged to this godforsaken Warsland and was suffering terribly, but seeing Okram always eased his mood.
In contrast to his brutish appearance, he was a considerate conversationalist and paid attention to the details.
"...Did I seem that strange?"
"A little."
They shared a room, two to one, eating and sleeping in the same space.
Okram hadn't asked questions, but he had been worried enough about Jiha to visit right before his match.
Touched by his consideration, Jiha clenched his fist tightly.
"Okram."
"Yeah."
"I have to win today's match, no matter what. No matter what happens."
Okram simply nodded in silence.
Jiha hesitated, then asked.
"That promise you made before... the promise that if there was ever a way to help me, you would. Is that still valid?"
"An orc keeps a promise to a friend as a matter of honor."
A friend. The word truly struck home.
Jiha steeled his resolve.
"Man to man, what I'm asking you for right now is a secret from everyone."
He desperately needed cooperation to ensure total victory.
There was a limit to how strong he could get from the blood of small animals.
He needed help.
Because he had to win today to have a future.