Chapter 7 Competition

• "Category A begins now!"
• "You sure you can do this?" Lane said with concern as he flapped his hand fan to the side.
• I was holding a spear, standing in front of a fatty who seemed to appear tougher and definitely more experienced than me.
• "Begin!" The red flag was waved and I lifted my spear and flipped it around in preparation.
• Back when I was living with my aunt and her husband, I would mop the floors until the skin on my hands started peeling. What got me by was separating the stick from the mop and swinging it around. Then I would stay in a very pacing position while playing the stick forth and back.
• Back to the moment, I saw that the fatty was mesmerized by how I'd swung the stick so leisurely. He on the other hand was holding a small knife.
• But still, the light in his eyes was unquenched. I knew I should not take him lightly.
• The fatty ran towards me and that was when I grabbed onto the top of my spear so it lifted me up a little higher from the floor. The moment the fatty reached me, I lifted my feet and swung my legs onto his face causing him to stumble back and fall but he was quick to get back to his feet.
• There were two things in the fight I recognized now.
• The weapons we were both using weren't a match for each other. That meant the fact in itself was both an advantage and disadvantage to both of us.
• I, a spear user… My advantage was in long-distance battles, and my weakness was short-distance battles which meant all the fatty had to do was get close to me enough to have an edge over me and easily win. I had to balance the playing field somehow.
• I held onto my spear and he ran towards me, swift and sharp. He lunged forward to harm me and a simple step back was all it took for me to escape it.
• That was when I noticed it. The fatty's weakness. His hands.
• Yes, he had strong and light legs but his hands were unusually weak and I could ascertain it, to him having plumpy fat hands. So the next time he delved towards me, I slapped the knife off his hands with my elbow and crushed his face with my feet.
• The fatty fell to the floor, passed out, and defeated.
• I looked at the crowd who seemed shocked to their faces.
• "Whoops I guess I win," I said dryly and they all erupted into a radical applause. I shrugged and got off the podium. Lane gave me a pat on the back and shook his head, "You're bad."
• I simply shrugged and stuck my tongue out at him.
• Carmen gave me a thumbs-up while looking dumbfounded.
• "I didn't expect less from you," Abel said dryly.
• "Next on the list of the contestants is a special guest. Alpha Abel of Frozen Moon Pack and Yale Businessman owner Andrew Thunderman!"
• "This isn't a fair fight, Alpha Abel has been a trained warrior since he was born."
• "Who the hell is Yale Businessman owner Andrew Thunderman?"
• "Root for me," I felt his firm hands on my shoulder.
• Abel stepped up to the podium and waited. Then a man wearing a long black coat as well as a fully masked face went on stage.
• Then both went to the bowl not far from the podium to pick a weapon.
• In the end, Abel didn't choose any. But his opponent, like me, chose a spear.
• "Why didn't Abel pick any weapon?" I whispered to Carmen as both men went back to the middle of the podium.
• "He doesn't need it," Carmen whispered back, causing me to freeze and give Carmen a questioning look.
• "Why wouldn't he? He could seriously get hurt!"
• I felt the light touch of a hand on my head causing me to turn back to Lane with a glare, but that wasn't enough. He smuggled himself between me and Carmen, putting his arms around both of us.
• Then he leaned over to my ear and whispered, "You have no idea the kind of man Abel is. Since he was young, he'd been ripping lions apart. What is a simple werewolf in front of him? Just watch."
• The fight started awkwardly with both Abel and his opponent gauging each other out.
• Abel's right hand was lifted with the thrust of his left hand. It looked like some sort of signature look.
• At the sight of that, the Yale Business owner just ran into the crowd, away from the podium, leaving Abel standing there alone.
• "What the hell was that?" I asked.
• I could hear the murmurings of the crowd behind me as well, but most of them seemed to be saying Abel's opponent made the right decision by running away.
• "That is Abel's killer signature look. When he does that it means a fight until death."
• "That explains why the guy just left." I muttered absentmindedly, "No one would be willing to risk their life for a mere ten thousand worth of gold."
• "Unless… they were idiots,"
• I looked up at Lane's smuggish face, knowing that dab was specifically meant for me. I gave him a stifling look but didn't say anything because that would only prove his point to be correct.
• "You're right. Most people here, I'm sure their reason for attending is to improve their courage and break their limits."
• "Very endearing don't you think?" Lane winked and nudged me, causing me to give him a dirty look.
• "Since the opponent left during the competition then I guess Alpha Abel wins this round."
• The competition kept on going, and when it was Lane's turn, he openly gave his opponent ten thousand worth of gold and his opponent left the competition, causing him to win the round.
• I bit my finger in regret. If only I had been paired with Lane, I would've gotten that money instead.
• I think Lane knew what I was thinking because he gave me a greasy smile from on top of the stage.
• "The next round of the competition is simple. Poems. This time, you would be divided into groups. Seven in each group so you all better choose well. Find your pair in ten minutes. After that, the second round will continue."
• Abel clasped my hand and reeled me in until we were only inches away from each other's lips. "I suck at poems. Will you be on my team to make up for my absolute weakness?"
• I parted my lips, hazy and unsure how to respond.