Chapter 3 - Deathmatch Arena
Nathan slowly stepped onto the platform.
As soon as he set foot on the stage, the surrounding jailers erupted into cheers—it was obvious they were looking forward to this fight.
"Place your bets! Odds are as follows—Number 38 kills Number 55 within one minute: 1:1. Within three minutes: 1:3. Within five minutes: 1:5. After five minutes: 1:10!"
One of the jailers shouted out as soon as Nathan climbed up.
With that, the nearby guards began pulling out their Berries and placing bets.
"I'm putting 1,000 Berries on Number 38 killing 55 in one minute!"
"3,000 Berries on him killing 55 in three minutes!"
"5,000 Berries says he does it after five minutes!"
"Excuse me—what are the odds for Number 55 killing Number 38?"
A jarring voice suddenly broke the betting frenzy.
The whole place instantly fell silent. Everyone turned their eyes toward the one who'd spoken—Nathan, who was now standing on the platform with a calm, smiling expression.
"You tired of living, punk?"
The massive prisoner—Number 38—roared from across the stage, his anger ignited by Nathan's provocative question.
"Oh come on, that's unfair. Why is it only acceptable for you to kill me? I'm not allowed to kill you? This is a duel, right? May the best man win."
Nathan shrugged, unfazed.
"Hmph, confident much? Even if I set the odds for you, what's the point? You don't have any money to bet!"
The jailer running the bets sneered.
"That's a shame. I was hoping to make some cash to spend after I get out of here."
Nathan replied, feigning disappointment.
"This guy's definitely gone nuts. He really thinks he's getting out of this place? What a joker! Number 55's hilarious!"
"Too bad such a funny guy ended up matched with Number 38…"
The jailers around the stage laughed mockingly.
"I can lend you some money. How much do you want?"
A deep voice echoed from the second floor above.
Nathan looked up and saw Saldeath grinning at him.
"Doesn't matter. Lend me as much as you can. Worst case, I die and don't have to repay it."
"Haha! Alright then—do you have odds on Number 55 killing Number 38?"
Saldeath turned and asked the betting jailer below.
"Yes, odds are 1:500."
"Good. Put down 10,000 Berries on him for me."
The arena burst into chaos.
It was the first time Saldeath had ever placed a bet. Until now, he had always watched the matches in silence.
But today, not only did he place a wager—he did it in such a dramatic way.
"Hmph, I'll tear you to pieces!"
Number 38 growled, eyes burning with fury.
Nathan didn't respond. Instead, he immediately opened his system inventory through his mind and selected the Might Guy character card.
Ding! Host has successfully used the 'Might Guy' character card. Possession uses remaining: 9.
In that moment, Nathan felt a surge of energy flood into his body.
At the same time, an array of Might Guy's taijutsu techniques flashed through his mind:
Leaf Whirlwind, Leaf Great Whirlwind, Leaf Instant Body Technique, Dynamic Entry, Eight Gates…
Each one imprinted itself vividly in his consciousness.
"Now this is interesting."
A faint smile crept onto Nathan's lips as he felt the transformation in his body.
"You two, prepare yourselves! I hereby declare the deathmatch begins—now!"
A jailer below shouted loudly at the fighters.
Ding!
With a metallic ring of the bell, the fight officially began.
Number 38 wasted no time. With a wild roar, he charged straight toward Nathan.
Nathan remained perfectly calm, standing motionless as the brute rushed at him.
"Die!"
With a thunderous roar, Number 38 lunged forward, swinging a heavy fist straight at Nathan's head.
And in that instant—Nathan moved!
"Leaf Whirlwind!"
In a flash, Nathan's leg shot out with explosive speed, aiming directly for Number 38's chin.
Just as the massive fist was about to crash into Nathan's face, it froze midair.
Because Nathan's right foot had already slammed into Number 38's jaw.
Boom!
With a muffled bang, Number 38 was launched into the air and then came crashing down hard onto the platform.
The entire arena fell into deathly silence.
Everyone stood frozen, eyes wide, mouths agape, unable to believe what they had just seen.
Blood trickled from the corner of Number 38's mouth. His body lay still, completely unresponsive.
The experienced jailers needed no further proof—they could tell at a glance that Number 38 was dead.
Even Saldeath, watching from the second-floor gallery, furrowed his brow.
Clearly, Nathan's performance had exceeded expectations.
This was supposed to be the top killer of Level One—a ruthless beast who'd already claimed five lives. Yet he hadn't even had the chance to strike back.
Now it seemed Nathan's combat rating might need to be reassessed.
And if it was, he could very well be transferred to one of the lower, more dangerous levels of Impel Down.
Ding! Congratulations, Host has successfully defeated the enemy. You have been awarded 500 Reputation Points.
Nathan's heart leapt with joy.
He'd been worried when he saw that even a decent character card in the system required hundreds of thousands of points. But if one low-level Impel Down inmate earned him 500 points, then maybe it wasn't so hard to accumulate after all.
Still, he was imprisoned and without freedom. Escaping Impel Down had to be his top priority.
"Well, well. Looks like you've got some skill after all. I guess luck was on your side today. Someone! Get him cuffed and chained and toss him back in his cell. And assign two Blue Gorillas to watch him personally."
"Hey, Saldeath—aren't you forgetting something?"
Nathan suddenly shouted with a grin. "You loaned me 10,000 Berries. At 1:500 odds, I believe I'm owed 5 million now. So… where's my money?"