Fight Club -2-
Fight Club -2-
'Of all the things I've lived through, I never thought I'd be stuck with a moniker like that.'
He was called the Married Woman Hunter.
It was a nickname that effectively declared his social reputation dead and buried.
It was embarrassing, but it was too late to turn back. He was the one who had given Finn full authority over the naming, after all.
'Whatever. Let's just make the money and get out of here.'
He adopted a "come what may" attitude.
Besides, this Fight Club didn't have much longer to live anyway.
"Eldio and the Married Woman Hunter, to the center!"
At the announcer's request, Max made his way from the corner to the center of the ring.
All sorts of comments drifted in from the spectators outside the iron cage.
"NTR and married women? That guy's a man of refined, degenerate taste, isn't he?"
"Eldio's wife does look like she's got a pair of hips worth grabbing."
"I heard Wizards have a lot of twisted sexual desires..."
"They say you need a warped mind to learn magic in the first place, or something like that."
He ignored the murmurs.
Max and Eldio stood within arm's reach of each other.
Eldio looked ready to pounce immediately if it weren't for the announcer standing between them.
Satisfied with the heat, the announcer declared the rules.
"Striking vitals, OK! Bloodshed, welcome! No fouls! If you surrender right before you die, I'll try my best to save you!"
Just like the match right before this one, it meant it didn't matter if you killed them before they could speak.
Having finished the announcement, the announcer took a step back and exited the center.
"Are you two ready?"
Eldio nodded, clenching his steel fist tight.
Kkwa-deu-deuk! He growled, the sound of metal grinding against metal.
"Married Woman Hunter? What an unforgivable, atrocious nickname... I hope you're not aiming for my wife!"
As if reflecting its master's mood, Eldio's outdated prosthetic arm let out a Pshhh-ik! from its pneumatic cylinders.
Max had only one thing to say in response.
There was no need for pathetic excuses in a place like this.
"Is she pretty?"
"You son of a bitch!"
A metallic fist flew out without warning.
Max reflexively wove threads of Mana. It was a speed unimaginable for a Wizard who had just reached the 1st Circle.
[Shield]
Furthermore, it wasn't the typical form that enveloped the entire body like most Wizards used.
It was a defensive barrier condensed to block a single attack.
It was a dangerous move that one wouldn't even attempt without close-combat experience.
Pa-aaang!!!
The steel arm was pushed back, unable to break the Shield.
As the impact spread, dust poured down in a haze from the ceiling of the Fight Club.
"Keuk!"
Eldio's expression crumpled as the pneumatic cylinders on his prosthetic arm let out a Chik! Chik! cry.
Max didn't just stand by with his hands down.
'This guy's punch is brutally heavy. If I had spread the Shield wide, it would have broken.'
Having failed his surprise finishing move, Eldio was now a mass of openings.
Max immediately lunged in, gathering Mana in his fist.
[Shock]
The fundamental of 1st Circle impact magic.
It had the fatal drawback for a Wizard of requiring direct contact.
However, if it landed, it was painful enough to offset that disadvantage.
'Like this!'
—Pp-ak! With a clean uppercut, Eldio's chin snapped upward.
The alloy jaw crumpled and blood splattered, looking like a scene from a boxing movie.
Kung!
His consciousness gone, Eldio collapsed to the floor.
The conclusion was clean. Having no intention of killing him, Max turned his gaze toward the announcer.
"T-The winner, Married Woman Hunter!"
Perhaps it was a streak of rebelliousness.
Seeing the eyes of the spectators craving an execution made him not want to kill the man out of pure spite.
"Uooooh!"
"Eldio, you washed-up piece of shit!"
"What's going to happen to Eldio's wife now?"
"What do you think? She's caught the eye of a Wizard, so..."
Leaving behind the spectators pouring boos and insults at the defeated Eldio, Max headed toward Finn.
Max held out his significantly multiplied money again.
"Finn. I'm betting everything I earned on the next match."
"Planning to fight back-to-back? I knew you weren't an ordinary Wizard, but..."
"Of course. That last match didn't even take five seconds."
Finn took the money as if convinced and continued checking his notebook.
"We have to go through the scheduled matches first, so wait a moment."
"How many scheduled matches are left?"
"Two. It won't take long."
Max nodded lightly and sat on an empty sofa.
"Huu."
He looked at the fist that had sent Eldio's jaw flying.
At this point in time, he had been training only his stamina and physical strength to get a job, so he only had calluses on his palms, and his knuckles were clean.
From his first act of violence, the skin was torn and blood was flowing.
'Impact magic has a good feel to it.'
Max felt good.
The reality that he had stepped onto the right path without wasting time.
No matter how many times he reminded himself of the opportunity regression had given him, he couldn't stop smiling.
"..."
It went without saying, but what the Steiger Family practiced was not the impact magic Max had just shown.
The Steiger secret art was Shooting Magic.
It was a specialized magic that caused those who mastered it to be called Magic Gunners.
I had no talent for Shooting Magic.
With the related cultivation methods, I couldn't even condense Mana, let alone form a Circle.
I kept piling up time out of a stubborn desire to be recognized, but I failed to achieve any results.
'Giving up was what took the longest and was the hardest.'
It was only after a considerable amount of time had passed that I abandoned that terrible obsession and sought a new path.
The impact magic shown in the fight against Eldio was one of the fields I showed talent in after giving up on Shooting Magic.
'Should I just give my hand a quick treatment?'
Max used Psychokinesis to move a first-aid kit sitting in the corner.
Shock and Psychokinesis were separate branches, and similarly, one of the talents he had acquired in the past.
Ttal-kkak!
He opened the first-aid kit and slathered red antiseptic over the torn wound.
As he waited while drinking water, Finn approached, boasting his hunched back.
"E-hee-hee! You're next, Mr. Wizard. Get ready."
"Okay."
This time, the opponent was a man with prosthetic legs on both feet instead of a prosthetic arm.
As soon as he entered, he caused a stir by urinating on the spectators outside the ring.
Judging by the fact that there were more boos than cheers, it was easy to see what kind of image he had.
"Wizard! That guy's a married man too! Kill him!"
"But that guy's wife is ugly, isn't she? She's cross-eyed."
"You idiot. That's not what's important. A Wizard knows that the face of a despairing opponent is a delicacy."
"So that's why he spared Eldio! Wizards really are terrifying...!"
The match was shorter than the rowdiness of the crowd.
The moniker he gave himself was Red-Footed something-or-other, but he was weaker than Eldio.
"Kieeeek!!!"
Max didn't even use a Shield.
With a single impact-laden punch, the prosthetic leg shattered, and the match was over.
He stepped down from the ring and headed toward Finn again.
"I'm betting everything on myself. Match me up immediately."
"E-hee! Mr. Wizard... you said you don't mind a 2nd Circle, right?"
"Of course."
It was no problem. Circles weren't an absolute metric for determining victory or defeat.
Besides, fighting a 2nd Circle would mean even higher odds.
'Even if they're called veteran brawlers in the Fight Club, they aren't at a level where they can walk around Heize with their heads held high.'
Despite it being a match with no fouls, they lacked meanness.
Even their attacks were simple, making their tells and trajectories easy to read.
'To put it bluntly.'
They were at a level far inferior to the students of Minerva Academy, which Flora, the stepsister he gained on the third day after his regression, attended.
Elite education with an efficient system could never be ignored.
"E-hee-hee! Our star player is the only 2nd Circle. He killed the only other 2nd Circle and is the only one left."
"Put him in the ring."
"I'll go call him, so wait. He's in the next room."
Finn walked away with a bow-legged gait.
Max cracked open a bottle of water, poured it over his head, and slumped onto the sofa.
'Fighting the star player on the very first day. It's good that it's fast.'
Calculating the amount roughly, his seed money was now sufficient.
The next match would be his graduation from the Fight Club.
As he was resting, a guy heavily drunk on alcohol staggered toward him.
His drunken, smiling face was unpleasant.
"Mr. Wizard! I made a lot of money thanks to you! I'll trust you next time too! A married woman... you truly have noble tastes!"
"Get lost."
Max let out a deep sigh.
'I want to go home.'
Finn came out of the room and announced the match.
Everyone pushed their money onto the star player, thinking that this time for sure, I would die.
From what he heard, the guy seemed to be someone whose limbs were all mechanical.
'If it's machines, it's actually easier.'
To the citizens of District 50, who believed steel was superior to flesh, my victory would be a scene as bizarre and dizzying as a world where genders or chastity norms were reversed.
However, unless the prosthetic arms and legs were high-end corporate models, their performance limits were clear.
The more one's capabilities grew and senses became acute, the more clumsy machines failed to keep up with Mana-driven movements.
It was common for people to hit that limit and long for their original limbs.
"Mr. Wizard. Can we start now?"
"Yeah."
Max stood up and headed for the ring, and his opponent immediately climbed up as well.
The prosthetic arms and legs replacing his limbs were, as expected, outdated models requiring pneumatic cylinders.
"You little shit. I was in the middle of a happy time, and you break the flow?"
When Max raised his middle finger without a word, the crowd erupted in cheers.
The announcer rode the momentum and continued the introduction.
"This is our shop's star player who needs no introduction! An undefeated streak! Will~~~ Wagner!"
A large blade Chul-kuk! popped out from the prosthetic arm.
He showed it off to everyone boastfully.
"Will! I bet everything on you!"
"Cut that Wizard brat's throat! I lost everything I earned in a month because of him!"
While waiting for the introduction, Max concentrated Mana at his fingertips.
He wove it covertly.
'No fouls.'
It was an action faithful to the Fight Club rules.
"The 1st Circle rookie who flipped the board upon his debut! The Married Woman Hunter!"
Max showed no performance whatsoever.
He ignored all the cheers and boos directed at him.
"As you all know, striking vitals, OK! Bloodshed, welcome! No fouls! The match begiiiiiins!"
As the announcer stepped away, Max aimed his finger at Will, who was banging on the iron cage to incite the crowd's response.
Immediate activation.
[Shear]
A rare branch Max had shown aptitude for after Shock and Psychokinesis.
It was cutting.
Pu-shut!
A small amount of blood splattered.
"Kuaaaaak!!!"
The cutting magic sliced right through the incredibly sensitive eyeballs, and the man lost his sight.
Max immediately stepped back and silenced his movements.
"Fuck, my eyes! Where did this orphan brat go! Come out! I said come out!"
Bu-ung! Bung!
Will, who had deployed blades from his prosthetic arms and legs, swung wildly around the ring.
The iron cage broke, and chaos ensued.
"Hey, you son of a bitch! Where are you swinging that!"
"Kyaaaaak!"
"Aaak! Call the owner! The owner!"
The spectators and the announcer screamed and fled far away.
'He is a 2nd Circle, but a complete novice.'
Watching quietly, Max extended his Mana to the tattered vest the man was wearing.
Interfering with it, he displayed Psychokinesis.
The torn vest wrapped around the neck of the rampaging Will.
"Kkeuk! Kkieee-ik...!"
The cloth rotated and tightened strongly.
[Death Roll]
It was a psychokinetic technique modeled after a crocodile's hunting skill.
With his current output, even a 1st Circle could somehow deal with it, but Will's combat prosthetics had blades even on the fingernails.
'To tear the cloth with those prosthetics, he'd have to rip his own throat open.'
He wasn't sure if the man had that kind of resolve.
"Heup!"
He concentrated and increased the output.
—Ttu-duk! Will's neck snapped, and the rampage came to an end.