Gaethje Lower Street.

Descending to the Lower Streets felt like entering an entirely new city. It was dimmer, making the illumination from the neon lights and signs brighter as they painted the world in shades of brown, orange, and purple.

Compared to the Upper Streets, the Lower Streets were rowdier and more congested with people.

"Davis, show me the way to Picasso Lifestyle".

DING!

"Yes master".

Leon's lips twitched but he didn't complain.

Having downloaded the map of the city already, Davis quickly showed him the shortest route to the nightclub.

He arrived at his destination after a short trek.

[Picasso Lifestyle Club]

The nightclub was a massive 2-story building but Leon had no doubt that it also had a subterranean floor.

After walking through the electric gate of the concrete fence surrounding the building, Leon walked to the front door where two burly thugs stood guard.

One of the guards looked him up and down and quickly determined that he was not rich, the fact that he came here on foot also reinforced this notion.

His face quickly turned stern. "What business do you have here?"

Leon was unfazed by the thug's deep voice. Instead of answering, he raised his smartphone and showed the thug a projection of a certain virtual flyer.

[Annual Gene Combat Sports Tournament]

Seeing it, the thug's eyes lit up in understanding but then he looked at Leon again, accessing him.

When looked at from the lens of a normal human, Leon truly looked unremarkable.

He was not too tall, just average. His face looked too handsome for a fighter, and most importantly, he did not look particularly muscular at all due to the black coat covering his body.

Compared to most people who came for the tournament that this thug had seen, he looked extremely weak.

The thug smirked. "Did your mother know you're coming here?"

Leon would have retorted on normal circumstances but this time, he didn't answer as he kept a cool gaze on the thug.

This was Thomas Riley's character- taciturn, cool, cold and extremely straightforward.

Seeing his lack of response, the thug quickly grew bored and pointed him in the right direction.

Leon left without ever saying a word.

As soon as he left, the thug looked at his companion. "How long do you think he'll last before he's carried out wounded?"

"2 fights". His companion said seriously.

The first thug smirked. "You're overestimating him, I doubt that pretty boy will last a single fight down there".

…

Leon passed the club area in the first floor and went underground through a winding staircase.

The first thing that greeted him was the loud sound of cheers and roars and the unmistakable smell of beer, a lot of beer.

"Octavious!!!"

"Kill him!"

"Maul him!"

"Break his bones!"

Leon climbed down the winding staircase and observed the underground area of the nightclub.

It was extremely loud and rowdy.

The whole underground area of the nightclub was a singular large space housing only 3 things: the entrance where he currently was, a large octagon cage, and a spectator area surrounding the octagon and housing hundreds of seats.

All the seats were occupied but no one sat down.

The spectators were all on their feet, drinking beer while roaring at the top of their lungs at the 2 fighters that were currently inside the arena.

Leon looked inside the arena.

At this moment, two fighters were engaged in an intense battle. One of them was lean and agile, wielding 2 daggers while the other was a giant of a man standing at over 7 feet tall. He wielded 2 blood-stained cutlasses.

On the arena, he looked intimidating as he hunted the smaller and more agile fighter, his barbaric style making the spectators go crazy with adrenaline.

Clearly, majority of them supported him.

Leon looked at them in disinterest for a few seconds and then he decisively walked towards the corner of the entrance where a counter was.

A receptionist, a young Geneform who seemed to be in his early 20s sat behind the counter. At this moment, with no customer disturbing him, just like the spectators, he was engrossed on the ongoing battle.

Leon walked to his desk and banged it once.

The Geneform didn't answer, still engrossed in the battle.

Leon's lips twitched and he banged the desk again, this time louder.

He noticed the man's face instantly turned annoyed as reluctantly, he finally turned around to focus on his job.

He didn't even look at Leon's face as he asked. "Betting or registration?"

'Betting?' Leon was surprised, then he remembered Ariana's Gambling Den in Community G.

According to Kain, most people in the community go there to bet on minor combat sports that take place in the Geneforge Clans' cities, hoping to make it big.

He suddenly had a thought. 'If they bet, there's a likelihood that they watch the combat sports too!'

'And since they already know my face…'

Due to certain reasons, Leon didn't want people who knew him to see him.

He suddenly felt like buying a mask and coincidentally, at that moment he heard a loud voice calling.

"Come and buy your masks, 2 cents each!"

Leon looked at the hawking vendor and he sighed in relief.

At that moment, the annoyed voice of the receptionist interrupted him. "Are you here to bet, register, or just waste my time?"

Leon looked at him coldly without retorting, then he simply said. "Registration".

The receptionist cursed under his breath then he quickly started typing on the computer in front of him. "Name?" He asked.

"Thomas Riley".

"Ring name?"

"…"

Leon was once again stomped. 'I've not thought of a ring name yet'.

Not wanting to keep the receptionist waiting again, his brain whirred and he blurted out. "Ring Man".

The receptionist raised his head and finally looked at him. "Ring Man? Seriously? That's your ring name? That's the best you can come up with?"

Leon felt a sudden urge to punch this young man in the face, it took him a lot of effort to prevent his lips from twitching.

The receptionist shrugged when he saw that he didn't reply, then he quickly typed on his computer.

Tap! Tap! Tap!

A few seconds later, he nodded. "Done".

Leon was surprised. 'No identification details?'

He didn't voice it out but as if he could read his thoughts, the receptionist snorted and said. "This is just the preliminary registration, you're currently an unproven fighter. Right now, you're still Unranked".

"If you want to fight at the main tournament, you have to string together a significant number of wins, bumping your win-loss ratio in the positive enough to become a Ranked fighter".

"Only after you become a Ranked fighter is your identification details needed".

"To become a Ranked fighter, your fighting record has to be among the top 10,000 among all the registered fighters".

"The Ranked standings change every day as fighters compete".

"The preliminaries is just the prelude. The main tournament will start in 20 days and only the top 10,000 at the last day of the preliminaries will make it to compete in the main tournament".

The receptionist looked him up and down, then he added. "Remember, the tournament won't cover your hospital expenses".

"This is a true combat sport. Inside the octagon, you're alone".

Leon didn't react or say a word.

Seeing that the receptionist was not about to say more, he finally asked in a rigid voice. "Where to fight?"

The receptionist pointed to a staircase leading further underground at the eastern corner of the octagon cage.

As he pointed, Leon finally noticed that the battle he met was already over. The man wielding daggers lost.

At this moment, he was being carried out of the octagon cage in a stretcher. The fighter was already unconscious.

His whole body was diced and mangled, bleeding heavily and most chillingly, his entire right leg from the lap down was gone!

One of the people carrying the stretcher held the bloody leg, carrying the poor fighter from the octagon through the staircase leading underground.

"That's the fighter's area," the receptionist said in a nonchalant voice. "You can go there to get ready for your battles, there's an armory there with a few basic weapons in case you have no weapon".

Leon looked at the receptionist coldly. "Rules?"

The receptionist was unfazed by his persona, he seemed to have dealt with hundreds of thugs and different fighters with personalities just like the new guy.

He calmly explained. "Guns are not allowed".

'Eh?' Leon almost broke his persona at that moment. 'F*ck!'

He already had a hunch that this was the case for a while but still, when it was confirmed he felt disappointed. 'That's like crippling a Mechanist's biggest advantage in battle'.

But he wasn't too disappointed, this was because the two fighters he saw fighting in the octagon were clearly mundane people.

As an Ascended, he absolutely had an unfair advantage against them. He didn't even need a weapon to smash a mundane person.

The receptionist continued. "Any weapon is allowed, the only restriction is use of advanced technology".

"As for the preliminaries rule, its simple". He leaned back on his chair. "After your registration, the A.I has compiled your name into the list of available fighters tonight. When it's your turn, your ring name will be called out".

"You have to appear in 30 seconds or it means automatically forfeiting the fight, and forfeiting a fight pulls you down the ranking".

"If you lose a fight uninjured and still want to fight again tonight, you can return to the fighter's area and reveal your intent to fight again".

"But if you win," the receptionist sized him up again as if contemplating whether revealing this information was relevant to a fighter that was destined to lose anyway.

In the end, he revealed it. "If you win, the octagon is yours. You can decide to take your money and leave, or you can decide to go on a streak".

"If you're unbeaten, nobody can force you out of the octagon unless you're tired".

Saying this, the receptionist looked at the octagon again at the man wielding 2 cutlasses as he revealed an excited expression on his face. "That's why Octavious has been there for the past 13 fights!"

"Tonight, he's on a 13-fight unbeaten streak already. If he continues like this, he may become Ranked soon!"

After getting all the information that he needed, Leon nodded coldly at the receptionist before walking towards the vendor hawking full-face masks.

Seeing him, the vendor excitedly advertised his goods.

"I have all types of masks, Tiger masks, Lion masks, Cat masks, Bear masks, even dildo-shaped masks, tell me whichever one you want!"

Leon's eyelids twitched. 'The f*ck! Just what kind of place is this city? It's full of so many weird people'.

Leon coldly pointed at an unassuming white full-face mask with a decorative design of circular red rings covering it and endlessly filling it with red circles.

"Hehe, you have a good eye," the man grinned. "That's high-quality! It's 10 cents, just a pound, very cheap for its quality".

Leon didn't respond as he raised his head from the mask and quietly stared at the vendor coldly.

Feeling those black eyes pierce his skin, this vendor shuddered. "Haha," he quickly laughed. "That was a slip of the tongue my friend, it's just 2 cents".

"Actually, selling it for 2 cents will make me run at a loss but just for you my brother, I'm willing to give a discount".

Leon didn't say a one as he pulled a single 1-pound note from his pocket and handed it over to the vendor.

Under his gaze, the vendor didn't dare dally around as he took the money and counted two paper notes, a 2-cent bill and an 8-cent bill before handing it to him alongside the mask.

Leon took the money and the mask and turned to leave.

He didn't go to the fighter's area though, instead, he stayed in the spectator stands and watched the subsequent battles as the man called Octavious dominated, knocking out opponent after opponent.

After his 15th opponent, his next 3 opponents all forfeited their battles, making his win streak rise to a staggering 18 for the night.

"Octavious!" "Octavious!" "Octavious!"

The spectators roared and cheered excitedly as dopamine and adrenaline filled the stands.

And then, the ring announcer called a new name.

"Next fighter, Ring Man".

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