CHAPTER 148: CHAPTER 148:BLACK MARKET [4]

It seemed the one-on-one fights were a king-of-the-hill style, where the winner would stay on, as the dagger user remained in the boxing ring, placing his hood over his face to hide his expression.

Alternatively, Zeke made his way through the crowd, and for some reason, the spectators around cleared the way like he was some sort of god.

Perhaps it was the gold mask?

The boxing ring comprised of mostly silver masks a few bronze masks, but not a single gold besides Zeke.

Walking through the split crowd like Moses splitting the Red Sea and strolling through, Zeke made his way to the corner of the boxing arena.

He really was planning to fight..

Sighing, I shook my head and stood up, adjusting my mask to make sure it stayed on.

Although I was glad he had invited me to this black market, allowing me to get two decent artifacts, there was no point in staying any longer.

This place...it really wasn’t for me.

The uncomfortable feeling I got knowing that each person around me could be an insane criminal, djinn, or even psychopath was stressing out my heart.

A couple of moments later, Zeke climbed up into the boxing ring, jumping over the ropes, with his mask still on.

Instantly, cheers echoed throughout the crowd as people rushed to the left, where the betting screens were.

Even I was tempted to bet the one bronze coin I had left.

Surely, Zeke would win this.

Unfortunately, though, due to the long line before the screens, my way toward the exit was completely blocked.

Leaning back against a wall, I gazed as Zeke slowly took out a curved blade, resembling ones that pirates wielded in medieval times.

I knew Zeke was extremely powerful, not because of his swordsmanship, but because of his lightning element.

I don’t even think the book had ever fought without his element, so perhaps, this would be interesting.

Usually, he wielded a wand, like other mages, so Zeke initially struggled to find a tight grip on the sword as the dagger user stared at him from across the arena.

This situation was probably a lose-lose for the dagger user.

If he won, then the gold-masked person, who was clearly wealthy and had a high status, would send assassins to kill him due to embarrassment.

And a loss would lead to him being injured and losing money.

"3!"

As the countdown to the fight began, the dagger user suddenly said something, but I was too far from the arena to hear anything.

Though I could make out Zeke’s response to the dagger user’s words by reading his.

"I’ll hold back."

Was Zeke really trying to test his potential recruits himself?

"2!"

"1!"

"Go!"

As the announcer’s words echoed through the dome-shaped building, the dagger-user immediatly rushed forward like last time.

However, taking two steps forward, Zeke engaged him early, horizantally slashing his curved-sword from right to left.

Not hesitating, the dagger-user thrust his left dagger forward, attempting to parry Zeke’s sword, and horizantally slashed his right dagger as from right to left at Zeke’s defenseless body.

There was just one problem.

Zeke was using a sword curved to the right and his his weapon was a right dagger curved to the left.

The right dagger’s curved area hooked completely around Zeke’s sword, immobolized and catching Zeke like a fish within seconds.

Then, in an incredible display of physical ability, Zeke kicked his left foot upward and perfectly hit the bottom of the charging left dagger.

The left dagger instantly flew into the air and landed a couple of feet behind both of them.

To Zeke, the left dagger was never even a threat.

As the dagger user attempted to withdraw his right dagger, Zeke simply retracted his sword back toward him, dragging the dagger with it.

Thus, the dagger user was left weaponless, standing before the gold-masked figure.

Swinging his sword around in the cycle, Zeke watched as the right dagger detached and flew back at his opponent.

Reading Zeke’s lips, I could see him say.

"1 more time."

Catching the dagger that was flung into the air, Zeke’s opponent slowly retreated and also picked up his left dagger.

Usually, if something like this were seen, the crowd would be screaming out and rioting.

I mean, this was clearly match-fixing at its finest.

Yet, the golden mask held them all back.

Also, why was Zeke treating this match as some sort of spar?

People had bet their entire life savings on him!

Standing on the opposite side of the arena, the dagger-user, instead of charging, simply waited for Zeke to come to him.

With long, overgrown, and ungroomed black-hair that reached all the way down to his eyes, he retreated to a corner of the arena, the ring’s walls behind him.

Strolling toward him, with no sense of urgency, Zeke simply jabbed his curved sword forward.

Instantly, the dagger-user side-stepped, easily dodging it.

Surprisingly, though, the dagger-user did not counterattack.

He held his left dagger vertically in front of him to parry future attacks, while his right dagger remained at his side, ready to attack at the right moment.

Either not caring or curious to see what the strategy was, Zeke continued, unleasing a barrage of various jabs and swing while walking.

Every time, the dagger-user was nimbly side-step or duck, using his small height of around five feet to.

With his back to the ring’s walls, the dagger user simply moved right and left around the arena, while Zeke followed.

Even with Zeke’s high status, the crowd started to get frustrated.

This was the black market, of course, none of them had come to watch a game of cat and mouse.

They had expected a complete and utter beatdown, and what they were getting was the exact opposite!

Though...the betting line was slowing down and getting shorter in the slightest, still preventing my exit.

Suddenly, snatching my attention from the fight, a voice echoed.

"Would you like something to drink?"

Shifting my gaze leftward, I spotted a waitress with long purple hair and a witch hat, tilted slightly back to reveal her face, standing beside me with a pitcher.

Immediatly, I shook my head.

If I was going to drink for the first time, it wasn’t go to be in this shady place watching a shitty fight.

However, instead of leaving and looking for another thirsty customer, the waitress remained by my side before eventually saying.

"Say, you came in here with the gold masked figure, didn’t you?"

Clutching the pen in my pocket, I nonchalantly nodded my head.

At that moment, as Zeke jabbed lazily jabbed his sword forward for the hundreth time, the dagger user finally made his move.

Instead of dodging or side-stepping, he parried with his left dagger vertically.

The hook of the left dagger caught onto the curved portion of Liam’s sword, and instantly, his right dagger went bursting forward like a cheetah set free.

Yet, interestingly enough, Zeke went for the same defense, kicking his left leg up.

But his opponent’s right dagger...suddenly halted.

Then, it burst horizontally to the right, and simultaneously, the dagger-user unhooked his left dagger by raising it upward.

Before Zeke could free his sword, the horizontally right charging dagger met it, hooking around the sword.

Suddenly, the now freed left dagger burst forward right at Zeke’s neck.

In front of the boxing ring, the crowd burst into...cheers?

It seemed after watching the dagger user being tormented for that long, they had started cheering for him as the underdog...despite the fact that some of them had bet money on Zeke.

Passion over money...perhaps, this place wasn’t that bad.

But Zeke didn’t panic.

With the dagger just inches from his throat, he twisted his body backward, falling to the mat in a strange, calculated motion.

The left dagger missed his neck by a hair, whistling through empty air.

Then, with his back on the floor, Zeke yanked the curved sword toward his chest, hooking both the right dagger and the user to the ground.

A trap.

The moment the dagger-user leaned in too far, Zeke’s knee shot up from below like a piston, slamming into his opponent’s stomach.

*CLANG*

A loud gasp escaped the dagger-user’s mouth as he stumbled back, dropping both of his weapons to the ground.

This time, Zeke didn’t even bother standing.

He remained on one knee, rubbing his jaw, with a confused expression.

My eyes locked onto his mouth and read as he said.

"Meet me outside."

"..."

The dagger-user said nothing, but simply nodded his head, accepting his fate.

As he retrieved his daggers, the match was finally announced as over.

From beside me, the waitress let out a low whistle as she muttered.

"Didn’t expect a gold mask to bleed."

I raised a brow.

"Bleed?"

She pointed subtly.

Sure enough, a thin line of red streaked down from the bottom of Zeke’s chin. Just a scratch...but a scratch nonetheless.

A murmur passed through the crowd.