The coliseum was a fresh smell of blood.
A smile curled up Michael's face as the taxi revved to a stop at the entrance of the arena, the witness of sweat and blood eluding the excitement in him. He conformed his attire, a long, black overcoat that was draped down to his feet in a steamy terror, his aura dominating the attention of observers as he walked past them.
Michael stopped at the gigantic gates of the battlefield, his expressionless face thrown at the two bulky looking guards as they each raised an arm against his entry.
"Your credentials?" One of them asked, his veins pulping out of his arm.
Michael wouldn't have to go through the stress of reaching for his pockets for his gladiator profile card if only they could see the system before him, forever displaying his identity and stats along an organized column.
But he did. And the guards stared irritatedly into his information and then back at him.
"E-Rank huh?" A guard muttered with a stifled groan, issuing the card back to Michael. "I haven't seen you around, is this your first time challenging the coliseum?"
"Affirmative." Michael replied. Of course he observed that the bulky looking had underestimated him just from the look of his identity card. But he was narcissistic enough to assume that the coliseum wasn't worthy enough to challenge him.
Usually, he was around here to watch "Weaklings fight weaklings." He found comfort whenever he heard the snap of bones or the spurt of blood from flesh.
It was a struggled attempt for a win every night, but he hadn't found anyone here that could match up to him in strength. Not just yet.
But tonight, he was on a mission. His first task to eliminate the queen's wings had commenced already. Lexa had reported Nightshade's appearance here tonight, considering she wasn't much of announcer and liked to keep opponent on the anxious edge about her coming.
But this time, he was certain. He had rolled up his sleeves and had come to an agreement with his introverted self that the world was going to be aware of his existence tonight.
How he was going to miss hiding beneath the farce of an E-Rank persona. Killing people.
"I understand your desperation, but the money shouldn't be your main drive. You realize people die in this field." The first guard said with a serious stern.
Money? If money was his main consideration, then he could've simply asked Lexa for that. The coliseum barely offered millions to take out the strongest opponent in the arena, and no, thank you... That was an offer he would decline with determination. Michael's highest bounty was a B-Rank hunter, and his illegal job paid just enough that he was a few berries from achieving two billion.
With his networth, he could buy a quarter of this coliseum and by all legal rights. Money wasn't really his concern, after all, he did not want too much of it.
Money earned attention unasked for.
"Are you gonna keep giving me advises like my mom or are you gonna give me my battle pass?" Michael rolled his eyes. It was quite the annoyance, considering he was qualified to fight here. One needed to be at least an E-Rank to fight in the coliseum.
The guard didn't speak, after a long while of a blank stare, he took out a battle pass and gave it to Michael.
"Good luck." The large gates of the arena came to an opening, and as Michael stealthily walked in, he flipped out a face cap and a mask, dressing it over his face as if trying to conceal his identity.
When he reached the main desk, he flipped the card to the registrar, who checked it for its validity. The place was quite empty, he could only spot a few gladiators chittering nervously on their armor as of they had just seen a ghost.
Michael was more intrigued at the sight of the armor, he did not believe in the defense it granted. Going for the head was quite an easy target nowadays and besides, it made one become slower.
"Michael... Don't you have a last name sir?" The registrar called his attention. She was a woman with blue hair and curves that was crafted like a simple plank wood. In other words, her boobs needed the aid of a map to locate.
It was quite obvious why she was working as the registrar in the blood zone and not as a slut.
"I don't." Michael simply replied.
"Anyways, I have your pass validated and you've been registered to fight Dre157." She continued.
"When does that happen?" Michael asked, staring blankly at the woman as she went through the list again.
"That'd be the seventh fight on the fourth wave."
"I can't wait that long." Michael argued. "isn't there a way you change my agenda to the second or first wave?"
"I'm sorry, the first and second waves are currently occupied—" As she made to finish, a loud cry of agony interrupted her. A gladiator ran towards the desk, fear betraying his infant eyes.
"I can't.." He muttered, flipping his weak self on the desk. His eyes had widened in utter shock and his whole body jittered. "I can't do this."
"Is anything the problem sir?" The registrar asked unconcerned, like she was used to this sort of scenario.
"That guy..." He stuttered, pointing his gloves hand towards the direction of the arena. "That guy just got completely mangled."
Micheal heard the woman sigh with exasperation. "Do you wish to redraw from this fight?" She asked. "Redrawing costs 13,000 berries."
"I don't care!" The gladiator took out everything he was worth from his pockets, a few cash, an artifact (rare stones usually mined in dungeons) and also his sword, a three foot long celestial bronze blade that suffered cracks.
"Alright then." The registrar concluded after studying the pieces on the table. "I'd disburse your registration."
The gladiator did not wait for her to finish, he quickly stormed out the place with terror behind his back. His feet stumbled as he eventually made it out the gates of the coliseum.
Micheal had commended him for his courage, at least unlike him, the young gladiator knew when to accept defeat.
"Wait. What wave was that dude supposed to fight?" Michael asked.
"Fifth fight under the first wave. Why?" The registrar asked.
"I need you to register me under that fight."
The registrar sent a look of doubt at him. "Are you sure sir, the first waves are usually very challenging...and by your profile... You're an E-Rank first timer."
"Hey, were you assigned here to question the gladiator's decision or meet their needs?" Michael's stare now held an intention of murder. "Don't get so friendly with me, I'm naturally at bad ends with projectors like you."
"I apologize." The Registrar quickly addressed her mistake, she made a few more taps on her keyboard before glancing up at Michael. "I have registered your fight under the first wave, and you would be sparing against the Rank 38. Heat X."
The Rank 38 of the Empire? An A-rank? Boy was he in luck or what?
"Good luck." The registrar said after him as he brisked away towards the other gladiators at the arena.
But about that, Michael was sure of one thing. Like he had always believed it, and would always believe it...
"I don't need luck."