"All right, ladies and gentlemen, out of the hundred fighters today, everyone has enjoyed fifty matches. As is customary in the Hidden Dragon tournament, it's time for each of you to choose the fighters who will represent you in your bets."
Jack Duquesne, a global business tycoon in the oil industry, entered a luxurious auction room where many of his peers in this spectacle were already waiting.
"About time you showed up, Jack. I was getting tired of waiting for you." Carpio, Jack's major rival in this competition, had been taunting him for a long time since he won a bet of over a billion dollars last year.
Jack Duquesne smiled modestly, but inside, he was furious at that disgusting idiot. Still, maintaining composure, he said, "I was enjoying what this place has to offer. That's why I come here before the year ends."
"Do you have your fighters?" Carpio looked at Jack and raised his eyebrows, seeking an answer in his expression.
"I do…" Jack Duquesne sat down next to his assistant and looked forward.
As the room filled with over a hundred potential bidders in the auction, the auctioneer raised his hands and said, "Everyone knows the rules. There are fifty fighters available for you to choose from, and it will only be their figure in this tournament, provided you bid a considerable sum for them."
In this auction, VIPs bought only the image of the fighter, knowing only their history, watching their live fight, and having a good chance they will go far.
Some take it more seriously than others, like Carpio or Jack, who have an unhealthy rivalry confined to this place. Others simply choose a fighter based on their appearance, size, muscles, or martial arts skills, and that's it.
That's why as long as someone has enough money to win a fighter, that would be more than enough to have fun.
The auctioneer pointed to a huge screen in front and said, "First classified fighter, his name is Khaled Al-Farsi, who defeated his opponent in less than a minute."
"Khaled, an expert in Muay Thai from a young age, has won numerous regional championships. His aggressiveness and precision in knees and elbows have secured him a prominent career with an 80% victory rate in the last five years."
"We'll start at one hundred thousand dollars in increments of fifty thousand."
"150,000!"
"200,000!"
"350,000!"
Bids started rising more and more dramatically. Many were not patient with the wide selection available, so they immediately pounced like lions.
Jack Duquesne looked at all this drama and shook his head. The way many rushed to bid high amounts of money for fighters who weren't worth it in his eyes was ridiculous.
"Do you already know which of the two selected fighters you're interested in?"
"Let's go for Dash Hale or Wei Chen; both handle their Kung Fu very well, so either of them will be perfect for bidding on them…" Jack Duquesne had made his choice based on his own preferences.
"Dash is only fifteen; do you think he's a priority over more interesting fighters?"
Jack Duquesne shook his head and said, "Do as I say and keep quiet…"
Having seen Dash's martial arts, Jack knew that he was just playing and most likely holding back. For him to have easily defeated an opponent four years older, his performance in that art must be very high.
"Next fighter, Rafael Martinez!"
"350,000!"
"550,000!"
For people with money, this was a mere act of charity, as each sponsor would provide exactly that additional money to the prizes offered by this tournament.
The real bets were made by the VIPs; they were the most interested in betting on any kind of nonsense just to have more excitement.
There were good fighters, at least ten who were extremely brutal in combat, but for Jack, they weren't on his list of choices. He had seen Dash's eyes and was truly captivated. He knew perfectly well that this kid was a true demon and wouldn't stop fighting until he couldn't move.
That's why he wanted him. This simple choice was primitive, not based on statistics and comparisons. His eyes were his most sacred evaluation, so for that reason, he would be guided by them.