The fat boy and his friends looked at Jung with confusion. All they wanted was to intimidate and push him around.
Yet, what they expected was far from reality. Jung didn't care about their emotions and repeated himself. "I know what type of kiddos you are. Words won't cut it with you, so I might as well beat your ass."
Clearly, the boy wasn't great at handling his emotions, proving that Jung's provocation worked. He spoke. "Arena is this way. Come with me."
Since Jung reincarnated on Maskera, he had only fought with Baki, players, and monsters. Children his age had never been his opponents, nor were they interested in battling him.
However, it was in Inbox City, the place he left behind. Now he was in the world's greatest academy, facing a guy with talent and experience.
Following them, Jung arrived before the metal cube. The entire space was covered with see-through alloy carcasses, radiating an imposing and cold aura.
Jung went inside. To his surprise, it was more spacious, containing magical runes and a teacher whose role was to keep both of them safe.
"I am Turbo," the boy introduced himself. "This is the only place we are allowed to fight one another. Remember my name, as I am going to teach you some manners." Adding one last edgy sentence, he scrutinized Jung and asked him to stand in the centre.
Truth be told, Jung didn't dislike this Turbo guy too much. He was just an average mob-like character he had to deal with in every academy life. Most of them were just bratty kids who wanted validation and attention.
Even though he had no hard feelings, Jung would gladly beat the shit out of him. He wanted to gauge the so-called talented kids and see their true potential compared to his.
Turbo was the Everyman archetype. This was the most balanced and all-rounder archetype, involving special abilities from different categories. He was also Tier V, meaning he wasn't a pushover.
The first few seconds before the combat began and the adrenaline rushed in his heart, were the best euphoric sensation Jung had ever experienced. Addiction was the right word to describe his condition.
Standing in the arena, he noticed other students gathering around him. Their interest was ignited, and everyone wanted to determine his worth.
Turbo ignored others. His whole concentration was on Jung, and he was ready to start at any given moment.
Waiting for the teacher to give them a signal, both of them took their positions. A loud whistle was heard, and the ground shook in the same second.
Jung was the first one to dash. He didn't want to use an axe in this case and summoned two small daggers. They didn't fit him as well as his preferred weapon, but he would manage somehow.
Arriving before Turbo, he mutated his skeleton and gained more flexibility than ever. He became an acrobatic machine, leaping around as he executed rapid lunges.
As Jung's feinted attacks were about to reach the boy, Turbo bounced back, avoiding his stabbing movements. After doing so, his bald head shined, and black threads of hair manifested from it.
Hilarious as it may seem, the boy wasn't done. His transformation ended when his head blossomed and birthed one black die. It was an ordinary die, if one forgot about its origin.
Usually, archetype abilities were strange and hard to predict. This made every battle dangerous with unforeseen conclusions.
Knowing this, Jung didn't wait for his opponent and dashed with spinning movements that didn't have any patterns. Turbo, on the other hand, picked up the die, kissed it, and threw it on the ground.
Not waiting for the outcome, Jung appeared in front of the boy, hoping to slash his hand to restrict his actions, not knowing that it was too late.
As soon as the die left Turbo's hand, numbers arose on the ground. This event made Jung stop his step. The number that showcased itself was two.
Jung had no understanding of this development.
"You are lucky," Turbo said and touched the black flame that created the digit. Doing so, his torso was covered in sparks, and as he burned his excess fat, he became a running torch.
His speed increased, leaving a blazing trail; it was his time to act. If he had got a higher number on the die, he would have had more flame, meaning his agility would have been significantly higher.
Fortunately for Jung, this didn't happen. "Lady Luck and I are in an intense relationship. You have no chance of beating me with fate," he said with a beaming smile.
"Pay attention, you stupid dog!" Nero warned him, but Jung had no time to answer her foul talk.
All that needed to be said or done had already happened. Time for the real battle started, as both of the warriors clashed.
Jung flipped at Turbo, his speed no lower than his. His manoeuvres, mixed with the link he had with body and brain, made him the scariest foe for lower-tier archetypes, as their abilities weren't that impactful.
Meanwhile, Jung had to use every fibre of his being just to dodge hot attacks from the boy. In contrast, his slashes were more precise, cutting the boy and making him bleed in his every attempt. Though his quick sidesteps were rewarded with successful swipes, most of them were too shallow, resulting in a small amount of blood loss.
But Jung knew how to lead this battle to his victory.
Using dual daggers, he parried the heavy hand Turbo tried to smack him with. Not wasting time and the momentum he gained, with a controlled shift, he hacked at the boy, aiming at the same spot he tore before. He didn't lose his love for the axes and used a downward strike, mirroring the brutal style.
After doing so, Jung knew Turbo was done for. Even if the boy never ceased his punches or failed attempts to capture him.
This was the dedication and the spirit Jung respected, but the battlefield was an ugly place. No one cared about your principles or how great of a man you were, as the notion of victory was all that mattered, and devoted to that belief, Jung never backed down.
For the last time, to pay respect to his opponent, he leapt, spinning at a speed he never used before. His feints became scarier than the real slashes, confusing Turbo and for the finishing touch, Jung attempted to twirl his blade in Turbo's stomach.
This would have been a glorious ending for the battle, but alas, the supervisor meddled and intercepted his attack. Even the teacher lost some blood from her fingers, causing an uproar among the viewers.
Just as Jung looked around the arena, he spotted Snowshade with two adults beside her. One of them was Walt; thankfully, he didn't wear his stupid white costume.
The other was a more lively, the bustiest MILF Jung had ever seen before. 'She should be a principal,' he thought and left the ring to greet them.