I gestured toward Chairman Bob as I leaped onto the stage, feeling the eyes of the crowd on me. This time, I didn't bring my doll. I wanted to face Dummy on my very specific terms.
"Before we start," I began, my voice cutting through the murmurs of the audience, "let me say a few things."
Bob raised a brow, clearly intrigued. "Okay," he replied, his tone inviting me to continue.
"This is a live broadcast, correct?" I asked, unaware of where the invisible cameras were positioned.
Bob nodded, confirming, "Yes."
"I want to look at the camera," I said plainly. "I have an announcement to make."
Bob pressed two fingers to his temple, likely communicating with someone behind the scenes. After a moment, he lowered his hand, his expression shifting to one of mild confusion. "Why?"
"Because," I said with a small smirk, "we could use a little drama, that's all."
Bob sighed but gave me the go-ahead, waving a hand in mock surrender. "Go on, feel free to speak. You've got our viewers' full attention."
I turned to face 'Dummy' and let the invisible cameraman do the work. This wasn't just about the fight anymore—it was about sending a message.
"My name is Reynard Bright," I began, my voice steady and resonant. "While I value my anonymity, I'm aware that in the Hunter World, anonymity is something that can't be protected forever. So, I've decided to come clean."
I took a deliberate pause, letting the gravity of my words sink in.
"Two years ago, my family was attacked by the Oval Mercenary Group. They were slaughtered—by my wife—as a consequence of their actions. But the ones who hired them… that's another story. Behind them is a group known as the Elsewhere Cult—just one of the many hidden factions in the Hunter World, but one of the most dangerous."
A murmur rippled through the crowd as I gestured flamboyantly toward my opponent.
"My opponent here, going by the alias 'Dummy,' is a member of the Elsewhere Cult. His real name is Karl Arman. He was once a member of the old nobility. Do your research, and you'll find the truth: the man standing in front of me is over a hundred years old."
Unlike the 'Prophet', the 'Hero' was someone I already knew their identity with his ace as the exception. I adjusted my tie, a theatrical gesture to mask the rising tension in my chest, and pressed on.
"The Elsewhere Cult is an organization with one goal: summoning their 'God' or 'Gods' into this world. In simpler terms, cryptids—the very things we Hunters dedicate our lives to eliminating—are their idols. They'd bring those monstrosities here in the name of devotion, no matter the cost."
"SHUT UP!" Dummy—no, Karl—bellowed, his voice cutting through my speech like a blade.
For the first time, the smug smile that had adorned his face was gone. The uninterested, aloof expression he'd worn like a mask while playing chess with Black had shattered.
Good. That's exactly what I wanted.
"There's more you should know," I continued, letting my voice rise just enough to drown out the murmurs of the crowd. "Their cult promises immortality to its members through human sacrifice. They've amassed a stockpile of esoteric and dangerous techniques. And their history runs so deep, that it might even predate the Association itself. But here's the thing—they're rotting from the inside. Years of degradation, fueled by their blind fanaticism, have turned them into nothing more than a nest of religious bigots."
Karl's aura flared violently, and I saw the telltale signs of his patience snapping. A split second later, he exploded forward, his fist shrouded in energy. The punch slammed into my chest, a devastating blow that should've sent me flying.
It didn't.
I remained rooted, unfazed by the impact.
"Was that it?" I asked, brushing nonexistent dust off my shoulder. "Let me show you how that should have felt."
Karl's smirk faltered as I clenched my fist.
What was my current load-out? Only three slots. I'd temporarily shut down my Puppetry attribute, leaving me with Connection, Homing, and Counter. The last one—Counter—was something I'd borrowed from Geoffrey in a shady, under-the-table deal. Risky, but worth every ounce of trouble it took to secure.
"Ten-fold Counter," I said, my voice low but carrying the weight of an executioner's verdict.
I replicated his punch perfectly, down to every minute detail, except now it carried ten times the force. Thanks to Homing, my fist veered with uncanny precision toward its target, and with Connection, I ensured every ounce of energy was transmitted directly to him.
My strike landed true, and the sound of my fist meeting flesh was like a thunderclap. My knuckles tore through his chest, the resistance meaningless against the overwhelming force.
I grabbed his heart, feeling its desperate beat against my palm, and yanked it free in a single, fluid motion.
Karl staggered backward, clutching at his chest where a gaping hole now resided.
The crowd fell silent, their shock palpable, as I stared at the bloody organ in my hand.
"You wanted drama?" I said, tossing his heart aside with casual disdain. "You've got it."
Karl's voice was guttural, filled with rage. "I will kill you."
Before my eyes, the wound I had inflicted began to close. His flesh knitted itself back together in seconds, the only evidence of my attack being the bloody mess staining his clothes and the heart still in my hand.
He stood tall, unbothered, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. "Start the match, Bob," he demanded.
Bob scowled from his platform, shaking his head with an exaggerated sigh. "Don't be too familiar with me, old man," he muttered. Then, with a bored wave of his hand, he added, "Well, let the match begin!"
The moment the words left Bob's lips, Karl vanished. His speed was inhuman, almost imperceptible, as he appeared in front of me, his fist cocked back for another blow.
But I was prepared.
As his attack descended, the ground beneath him erupted with glowing ethereal chains. They twisted and writhed like living creatures, ensnaring his limbs mid-strike.
Soul Chains.
I smirked, my voice laced with mockery. "Did you think I'd walk into this match without a plan? The finals and semi-finals were always going to be held here. I've had plenty of time to prepare."
The chains tightened, their spectral light flaring brightly as they attempted to bind Karl's essence.
For a moment, I thought I'd sealed the deal.
But the air around him shimmered unnaturally. The Soul Chains flickered, losing their form as if dissolving into nothingness.
"What?" My smirk faded.
Karl stepped forward, completely unhindered, a smug smile creeping back onto his face. "You thought you'd trap me with something so… fragile?"
He flexed his aura, the oppressive energy pressing down like a weight on my chest.
Karl's hand clamped around my throat like a vice, lifting me effortlessly off the ground.
"I will make your death painful," he snarled, his voice venomous, his grip tightening until I could feel the blood pounding in my temples.
He sneered, leaning closer. "You should have brought your toy puppet with you."
I could only manage a choked laugh. "Funny you should mention that…"
With a mental command, I equipped my Puppetry attribute.
No, I hadn't brought my doll visibly into this match. That was part of the plan.
Just beneath Karl, the ground shifted. A pair of mannequin-like hands shot out, gripping his legs with an unyielding force.
Karl's eyes widened in shock as the arms yanked him downward. His feet began to sink into the ground, the hardened arena tiles cracking under the pressure.
I felt his grip on my throat loosen as he reflexively tried to shake off the hands. Dropping to the ground, I stumbled back a step, rubbing my neck and smirking.
"Checkmate," I said, straightening my tie.
Yep, I should say… I had a rather convincing performance.
The truth was, I'd been standing right above my doll the entire time. It had been hiding in plain sight, integrated seamlessly into the stage.
Before Karl could react further, more Soul Chains erupted from the ground, spiraling around him in glowing arcs. They wrapped tightly, encasing him like a cocoon of light and binding his aura in place.
I studied him for a moment. My mind raced through the possibilities. Breaking his will and forcing a confession about his crimes and his ties to the Elsewhere Cult would have been ideal—but this wasn't the time or place for that.
Besides, someone like Karl would have safeguards in place, defenses against mental invasions or forced admissions.
I took a step closer, my voice low and resolute. "You're done, Karl. Whatever tricks you've been saving, they won't work here."
His eyes burned with fury, but the chains held firm. For now.
I glanced at the heart still clutched in my hand, its aura pulsating faintly. A trophy of Karl's relentless arrogance.
With a thought, I commanded my doll to rise.
It crawled out from beneath the cracked arena floor with an eerie grace, its movements fluid and deliberate. The sleek mannequin-like figure stood, revealing its feminine curves and delicate features as if mocking the chaos around us.
I smirked, turning my gaze to Karl, whose struggles against the Soul Chains grew fiercer by the second. "Karl Arman," I called, my tone dripping with feigned gratitude, "thank you for your gift."
The doll approached me silently, its chest cavity opening like the petals of a mechanical flower.
With precise care, I placed the heart inside. The aura within it pulsed brighter for a moment, resonating with the doll as the chest cavity sealed itself shut. The doll's eyes glimmered faintly, a signal that the fusion was complete.
I straightened, watching Karl. He was an impressive force—far more dangerous than I'd anticipated. The Soul Chains that had bound him so tightly were snapping now, one after another, like overstretched rubber bands.
Each dissolution sent ripples of energy through the arena, proving the immense power he wielded. His efforts were relentless, pulling at the bindings with a raw, surging aura. But I had no intention of letting him escape without a proper reckoning.
"Your ability," I began dissecting his ability right on his face, "allows you to 'hack' aura control. It's not so different from my 'Soul Link,' which lets me sabotage aura connections. But your version requires direct eyesight. Paired with your 'weakening' attribute, it's a potent combination—you hinder and dampen your target's senses until you can redirect their aura's functions entirely."
Karl's chains groaned as more snapped free, his aura flaring brighter.
"With Selena, for instance, you tampered with her perception of time, slowing her reactions. In return, you amplified her sense of pain, breaking her focus. It's impressive."
Karl glared at me, his jaw tightening. The disdain in his eyes only confirmed how precise my analysis was.
I continued, raising my voice slightly for the crowd and the live broadcast. It was a way to show my superiority and how much danger as an individual I posed to the Elsewhere Cult. "As for your vaunted regeneration, it's not yours at all. It comes from the Tower itself. You hacked its restoration systems, forcing it to misread you as deceased. By faking your death, you've been able to exploit its healing protocols. And of course, the referee or the technical team has no way of knowing that."
A ripple of gasps and murmurs spread through the audience.
Bob, standing off to the side, whistled low. "He… hacked the Tower? That's impressive. Looks like we'll need to call our engineers and scientists to patch things up. What a mess."
Karl's movements grew more aggressive as his arms wrested against the last of the chains. Blue and white aura radiated from him in waves, the pulsing energy making the air vibrate. The Soul Chains snapped one by one under his sheer determination and power.
Karl roared, his aura surging as he launched forward. "Your arrogance will be your death!"
I held my ground, meeting his gaze steadily. "You are mistaken," I replied, my tone calm and resolute. "You are already dead."
Confusion flickered across his face, and then he looked down. His eyes widened as he saw his own heart, bloody and torn, in the grip of a mannequin hand. My doll had slipped behind him, moving with quiet precision, and ripped the organ free a second time. This time, however, there would be no miraculous regeneration.
Karl staggered, clutching at his chest, his aura faltering. "How?" he rasped, his voice filled with disbelief.
I tilted my head slightly, as if addressing a particularly dense student. "My doll simply used your attribute better than you could. It's ironic, really."
The doll held Karl's heart aloft, its fingers stained with his lifeblood. It moved with an eerie grace, prying open its own chest cavity without any input from me. I frowned, my control still tethered to the doll through our Soul Link, but it was acting autonomously.
The cavity revealed the first heart I'd already embedded there, now pulsing faintly with aura. With unsettling accuracy, the doll placed Karl's second heart beside the first, locking it into place as if it were a spare part.
I studied the link between us, intrigued. It seemed the doll had interpreted my command to "take" Karl's attribute in an unexpected way. Instead of overwriting or absorbing it, the doll had chosen to keep both hearts, treating the second as a backup or reinforcement.
"Hmmm…" I muttered under my breath, watching as Karl's body slumped to the ground, his aura dissipating like smoke in the wind. His once-mighty presence was reduced to nothing but a fading shadow.
I glanced back at my doll. Its chest cavity closed with a mechanical smoothness, and it stood motionless, awaiting further commands.
"I'll deal with you later," I murmured, narrowing my eyes at the mannequin-like figure. Whatever had caused this… "bug" would need addressing. But for now, Karl Arman was defeated, and the broadcast would carry this triumph to everyone watching.
I stood rooted to the spot, the faint grin on my face growing into something far more menacing. My posture was unwavering and confident as I remained in my place, my foe barely able to move me from where I stood, barring that one time he held me by my throat.
My voice rang out, steady and sharp, directed at the broadcast audience.
"Hunt the Elsewhere Cult, win my favor, and I shall fulfill your wish!"
This was the true beginning of my counterattack.
The weight of my declaration hung in the air. I knew the Prophet's clairvoyance couldn't have foreseen this outcome—not with Karl destroying probability itself through his mere existence within proximity. It was a flaw in their so-called omniscience, a crack in the foundation of their plans. And now, the broadcast carried this revelation to anyone paying attention, especially the Cult's members.
I couldn't help but feel a spark of satisfaction.
This confirmed what I suspected all along: the other agents they'd sent to eliminate me before had failed. This was their desperation move, their trump card. And now, even that card lay defeated before me.
I kept my stance firm, addressing the broadcast with unshakable confidence.
"My name is Reynard Bright, and I am the King of Favors." My voice carried the weight of truth and authority, every syllable carefully measured to leave an impression.
"I know a lot of things. I know a lot of people. I could move the world with but a word for what I know. My knowledge is a treasure, and my favors are sacred. Hunters from all walks of life, I invite you to join my hunt."
The weight of the moment pressed on the arena as I continued. "The Elsewhere Cult has offended me, and for that, they shall pay. The bounty I offer is three divine favors. No matter how difficult, I shall fulfill them to my dying breath. The target of subjugation is the leadership of the Elsewhere Cult. Lying before me is one of their three leader figures, the Hero Karl Arman. Now, only two remain: their Saint and their Prophet."
I paused deliberately, letting the gravity of my words sink in. A neutral smile played across my lips as I studied the audience and the camera's unflinching lens.
"Of the two remaining leaders, I know the name of one of them... The Prophet. His name is Sebastian Moore, and he works in the entertainment industry as a powerful business mogul. Aren't I nice?"
A ripple of astonishment coursed through the crowd, and I made sure my amused smile reached every corner of the arena.
"Know this," I continued, my tone dropping to something almost conspiratorial. "The favor I offer shouldn't be taken lightly. I possess knowledge of the location of Excalibur, secret treasures scattered around the world, details of cryptids, insight into advanced aura theories, and so much more. I may not know everything, but I know enough. Fellow hunters, I wish you luck."
I turned to Chairman Bob, tilting my head slightly in mock politeness.
"Chairman Bob, would you please kindly announce my victory?"
"With pleasure," Bob replied, his voice cutting through the tension. "The final victor for this match… is Reynard Bright."
The roar of the crowd, the echoes of the broadcast, and the weight of my words left a resounding mark. This wasn't just a victory—it was the beginning of something far larger… a storm of butterflies.