When I woke up the next day, Jason was sitting on the floor, surrounded by an assortment of failed weapons. Some were jagged, others barely recognizable, but none were usable. He must've worked through the night, and now he was slumped over, fast asleep. Even though his efforts hadn't borne fruit, there was something inspiring about his determination—it was unyielding, like nothing could stop him from reaching the top.
As I sat on the bed, watching him, I couldn't help but reflect on how much he meant to me. Jason pushed himself harder than anyone I'd ever known. I didn't know why he was so driven, but I knew one thing for sure: I'd do whatever it took to help him succeed. If it weren't for him, I wouldn't be the person I am today. He's my best friend, and his dream of reaching the top is my dream too—even if it means dedicating my entire life to it.
After steeling my resolve, I leaned over and shook Jason awake. Hey, wake up. We've arrived.
Jason groaned, stretching his arms. His voice was groggy as he asked, Is that the arrival horn?
Yeah, I replied. Time to head out.
After a quick shower and freshening up, we packed up our things and made our way off the ship, taking Excalibur with us. Jason had decided on that name for the sword, claiming it suited its potential.
Before we left, we told the ship's staff about the jagged, defective sword Jason had made during his practice. To our surprise, they offered to take it off our hands and pay us for it. The extra cash was a lifesaver since our account was practically on life support.
When we finally stepped off the ship and arrived at the Ranker organization building, a man near the gate caught our attention. He was standing beside a sign-up booth, calling out, "For those who've recently become Rankers and want to test their skills against other new Rankers, we're hosting a preliminary rank battle! The winner takes home a million credits! Sign up here!"
Jason and I exchanged a look, both of us grinning. No words were needed—we rushed to the booth without hesitation.
The line wasn't too long, and when we reached the front, the staff asked, "Are you registering as a duo or solo?"
"Duo," Jason and I said in unison.
I let out a small sigh of relief. Honestly, I had no idea how I'd fare without Jason by my side.
Then they asked us for the name of our team. I glanced at Jason, letting him decide. Without hesitation, he said, "Duo God."
I blinked, my face twisting into a mix of confusion and amusement. Duo God? Really? It sounded a bit odd—like, imagine hearing someone announce, "It's Duo God versus…" Whatever. Still, I decided to let him have his fun. If it made him happy, I wouldn't argue.
After registering, they handed us a small memory chip and explained its purpose. "Insert this into your Ranker watch," one of the staff members said. "The chip will upload details about the event, like reminders and the name of your next opponent. Don't worry, it's not designed to collect or expose any personal data."
I nodded, slotting the chip into my watch. It made sense that they wouldn't share too much information about opponents beforehand. Rankers generally liked to keep their powers a secret, ensuring they could catch their opponents off guard in battle.
They told us we were free to go and that the competition would start in two days. During this time, participants could use the virtual training rooms and other facilities to prepare. They also handed us a rule book, which mostly emphasized one thing: no killing your opponent. You were allowed to make them incapable of fighting, but anything beyond that would result in disqualification.
As we were leaving, David appeared out of nowhere, his smug expression plastered across his face. "So, you guys are joining the preliminaries?" he said, his tone dripping with condescension. "I guess I'll join too—just to show you how far beneath me you really are."
Before we could respond, he looked around and spotted someone about to register. "Hey," he called out, waving the guy over. "Team up with me, and I'll pay you a million Credits."
The guy didn't even hesitate. "Yeah, sure," he replied, grinning as if he'd just won the lottery.
I turned to Jason, shaking my head in disbelief. Just because he wants to see us lose, he's willing to pay a million Credits. Is this guy for real?
Jason shrugged, a determined glint in his eye. Some people just have problems, he said, smirking. But it doesn't matter. Let's train and get strong enough to crush his ego.
As we left the building and headed home, we decided to stop by the pizza parlor for a bite to eat. The familiar aroma of freshly baked pizza hit us as soon as we stepped inside, but the scene was chaotic. Behind the counter, Mr. Chase looked like he was barely holding it together. It was the lunch rush, and our replacements clearly weren't handling things well.
We exchanged a glance, both thinking the same thing. Without hesitation, we approached him. Need a hand? Jason asked.
Mr. Chase sighed in relief, his frustration evident. Yeah, I need all the help I can get. These orders just keep piling up!
Without another word, we headed to the back, grabbed aprons, and jumped into the chaos. Jason tackled the ovens while I focused on boxing pizzas and taking orders. The work was relentless, and after about an hour, the rush finally subsided. Exhausted, I slumped against the counter, wiping sweat from my forehead.
You guys are back? Mr. Chase asked, his tone tired but curious.
"Yeah," Jason replied with a small grin. We already touched the tablet, and the preliminaries start in two days. We just stopped by to grab something to eat.
Mr. Chase smiled as he handed us a pizza. "Here, this one's on the house," he said.
Grateful, we took the pizza and ate it right there. Once we were done, we stuck around for a little while, helping clean up as the parlor prepared to close for the day. When it was finally closing time, we said our goodbyes and left.
Back at the apartment, the cramped space greeted us with its familiar scent and comforting atmosphere. Despite how small it was, it always felt like home. We flopped onto the bed, full and content.
As we lay there, Jason broke the silence. For the competition, I'm thinking of crafting a gun that shoots rubber bullets, he said. I'll also make you a sharp blade to use.
I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "A gun and a blade, huh? Are you sure we're allowed to use weapons like that?
Jason nodded confidently. Yeah, the form specifically said we can use weapons of our choice. Plus, they're going to put a protective shield on us. It'll turn injuries into just pain, so we won't actually get hurt.
That's good… but still, if too much pain can kill,we need to be careful, I said, sitting up slightly.
Jason smirked. Exactly why we're not using Excalibur. It's way too powerful for something like this.