Now that he thinks about it, that guy is most likely sparring right now. After a bit of looking around Cor sees him. Freddy. Also a middle classer close to the upper class. Freddy specializes in close quarters combat. He prefers elbowing and kneeing with hooks and stuff over jabs, straights and kicks or grappling. He is the perfect counter to the massive Cor. Luckily, Cor has always been improving at least as quickly as Freddy. In fact, when sparring Freddy, his mind clears and allows him to make better decisions. However, he still only wins about half of the times. Him and Freddy are called the 'upper middle classers' by the other middle classers because of their dominance over pretty much every other middle classer.
Of course, dominance over the middle class in a low rank school means nothing in the bigger picture. But everyone has to start somewhere. Besides, both Freddy and Cor are still very young (both 19). This means that they still have 4 years to get into the high ranking school and another 2 years to get into the upper class there! Yes, they did calculate it into their plans. Both of them, seperately.
Anyway, Freddy just elbowed his poor opponent on the chin from up close before grabbing him by the face and jumping into a knee on that same face in a somewhat awkward but also clearly trained manner, thus winning his fourth round. Now they are tied.
'But not for long...' thinks Cor as he walks towards the arena again.
Meanwhile, a few towns over.
"I hope our little baby is going to be okay." says a middle aged woman, sitting in a uncomfortable wooden chair looking at her husband in the barely lit, slightly too cold house.
"I'm sure he will be, don't worry. It's already been 7 months since he went there after all." Answers a man of similar age, sporting an already white beard. His experienced eyes revealing slight worry even if his words would suggest otherwise. His wife, however, does not notice. As she feels relieved at the reassurance the man continues talking. "Besides, at the NSC he will at least be relatively safe from those monsters most of the time. We still need to deal with those rampant rats roaming the streets currently."
As worry reappears on the wife's face, she answers. "Won't the town protector deal with those?"
"I'm sure he will if it becomes too big of a problem but Elites also have bigger things to worry about, you know how it is. We just need to hope that the common nature survivalists can handle the problem before the rats get enough and try to break into houses." Answers the husband. The wife does not like two things about this kind of stuff so she stands up and walks away from the table. "Can't you just ever let the mood stay positive for a bit! I'm going to write a letter to Cor." She exlaims with anger now visible on her face.
"Don't yell at me just because you're worried! And don't you worry Cor with your letters. He has to focus on his study so that he at least has a chance for a better life." Says the husband as he stands up in discomfort. "Don't put so much pressure on that leg Richard. Sit down, I'll make you some food." Says the wife in a softer voice.
"Sure, sure, thank you." Says the husband with slight irritation still present in his voice. However, this time it is targeted at his own body instead of his wife.
Meanwhile in the training facility, a massive young man stand over a bloodied, unconscious young man. "Sparring is over guys, stop."