'What the fuck! What the fuuuuckk!!!!!' howled the spindly Cultivator beside the hulking Cyborg. 'This is bullshit! He cheated! That scum, that barbarian scum! What was that?! He burned his face off, through all the shields and the Silver Net! No!' His hands grasped at the air, as though strangling someone. 'No!'

'Cheating? In combat? That's just called winning, meatbag! Get melted, Jian the faceless!' roared the Cyborg beside him, the last words of his shout amplified by crackling speakers set into his shoulders, then he laughed uproariously.

Around them, many similar cries and sentiments were being repeated. The arena rice wine was cheap and quite a few had indulged, perhaps contributing to the reaction. Cultivators with their eyes red with rage and confusion champed their teeth and bit their tongues with hate, jumping and screaming abuse down at Nicolai, while the Cyborgs beside them beat their metal chests and frothed with glee.

###

Amongst the madness of the overexcited crowd, there were spots of contemplation—and calculation.

'You bet wisely, Leng,' muttered Kolden.

Even with the alien nature of the barbarian's features, Leng could tell he was irritated. Surprisingly so. Leng could only assume those points had mattered more to him than he'd pretended.

'So it would appear,' Leng replied, as calm as he could manage. That had not gone anything like how he'd expected. He glanced at his sister, who frowned back at him. They shared a thought. That weapon was a problem. Not just to Tier 1's, but to them also. They needed to work out what it was and how to deal with it.

'Say, friend Kolden, what weapon was it that the bar—combatant Nicolai used there?' asked Yue.

Kolden snorted. 'Something I was gonna use, that's what.' His eyes flicked to Leng, and he shrugged in response to the frown Leng wore, his shoulder letting out an oddly metallic clunk. 'Ran into one of your kind a while back and found the same weakness. Figured others would know, though I was banking on it staying quiet for longer.' His heavy form slumped back into the seat, huffing a disappointed sigh. 'Then that little punk goes and shows off the trick to the whole arena.'

Leng and Yue exchanged glances, then Yue put a hand on the man's arm, spoke smoothly and with her very best smile. 'And what is this trick called, good friend Kolden…?'

Kolden's eyes narrowed at her, holding none of their earlier warmth. 'You'll crack it soon enough,' he muttered bitterly, then rose abruptly to his feet. 'Here,' Kolden shoved a messy handful of points-tags at Leng. 'I gotta go. Need to think.' The big man rose and strode rapidly through the stands, heading towards one of the yellow exit portals at the top. Other barbarians were doing likewise—though most of them had much more eager expressions than Kolden had bore.

The Lin siblings watched him go with narrowed eyes. Leng shoved the points-tags into a pouch with barely a glance.

'They're all off to buy one of those weapons,' spat Leng, glaring at the excited barbarians streaming towards the exit portals. 'We are going to have to deal with that in our Tournament.' He gazed down into the arena. 'We're lucky, very lucky. If it weren't for this Nicolai, Kolden would have been able to surprise us with it!' The thought was horrifying. 'Perhaps we shouldn't compete. Is there any point? What the fuck is that weapon!'

'No, we will. We must.' Yue lay a calming hand on his own. 'The Silver Net formed a perfect counter to most of their weapons. There will exist a counter to this new one, too. That we were here to witness, was a gift from Heaven itself. Now we are forewarned, without suffering any loss. We just need to work out what kind of attack that was.'

'A line of red… some kind of energy…' muttered Leng. 'There are numerous possibilities. It went through a Skin Shield, as well as the Silver Net. Not a physical projectile. Skin Shields mostly work again physical attacks, and common forms of energy like fire and lightning. But there are numerous types of energy that can go through…'

'Some lightning goes through. Red Lightning, for instance,' murmured Yue. 'Maybe this attack was some strange variant of it, and that's why it was so straight? But Red Lightning needs to be aimed via Soul Sense. This attack didn't use Soul Sense at all. It breaks the entire mould of combat.' Her voice was quiet, eyes distant.

'What did Elder Tang say?' asked Leng softly.

'"A strong Soul and a strong Shield, and you need never fear,"' she quoted, smiling wryly.

Leng's briefly smiled back, then his mouth formed a line. 'Until now,' he said darkly.

Yue's eyes scanned the crowd. 'Let's find someone new. It transpired Kolden was a little smarter than we realised. This time we'll find someone more suitable. One of these barbarians will be eager to tell us what we need to know.'

The two frowned as they took in the crowd.

'Alas, this situation does not seem conducive to calm conversation…' said Leng.

All around them Cultivators were screaming and howling, while Earthborn laughed and jeered. This fight had seen a significant transfer of wealth from the Cultivators to the Earthborn, as almost all who had bet, had bet on the individual from their race. It is said that when a loss of reputation is combined with a financial loss, it stings many times more.

Yue sighed. 'Is there even any point in purchasing the Silver Net?'

As soon as she'd finished speaking, the pairs eyes met, widening with sudden shock. It was at that moment that their servant, Hua, finished squeezing through the crowd.

The man's normally stern and lined face bore a faintly pleased smile. 'Masters, I have purchased two Tier 2 Silver Nets for your use. Alas, the price was unreasonable, but you wished to have it immediately.'

Leng looked glumly at the Symbiotes their servant was proudly holding out. 'Thank you, Hua,' he said tonelessly.

'Is something the matter, Young Master?' Hua's face turned abruptly stricken.

'It is not your fault, but my own,' said Leng, sighing.

'Brother was a little overeager,' said Yue. But she smiled, emanating perfect grace and poise as she took one of the Silver Nets. 'These are still worthwhile,' she reminded him. 'A defence against the red-line weapon is unlikely to also defend against their standard attacks. We will need both. Thank you, Hua.'

'Of course, Young Mistress,' said the servant, bowing deeply.

'What is our current stock of Information Guild Tokens?' she said, thoughtful.

Leng brightened, understanding why she asked. 'Around 400,000.' He brightened further after a moment's thought. 'By now, the barbarians should have finished spilling anything of interest to the Guild!'

Yue looked to Hua. 'And now, we have another job for you…'

###

'What's this? What's this?!' Gregory screeched at the Cultivator he'd been arguing with. 'Did you see that? Did you see it, you dumb savage primitive retarded donkey-brained fucking idiot?! See how easily Jian was put down? See how—'

'He cheated! Nicolai cheated!' gnashed the Cultivator. 'Bullshit, bullshit! That fight means nothing!'

'It means you lost, idiot! Your man got fucked like I fucked your mother last night!' Gregory let loose a hyena-like bark of delighted laughter as he paid back the insult.

'Get lost! This isn't over. You're trash, all just trash.' The Cultivator, sneering and snarling, forced his way through the milling crowd, stomping away.

'Beautiful. Beautiful!' Gregory laughed, clapping his hands as he turned to Markel. 'I told you Markel, didn't I, that I had a good feeling about him?!'

'You did indeed,' said Markel, smiling wryly. He opted not to mention Gregory's words of only moments ago, when he'd anticipated Nicolai would lose. 'Well done. Your father would be proud.'

'He would, wouldn't he! He always said I ought to be better at recognising the potential in people! Ha! Hey, let's go down to the lobby. I want to buy that bastard a drink. And another for myself, too, to celebrate! What a fucking player. Beautiful!'

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###

'Father, brother lost!' whined Xue, tears sparkling in her eyes.

'So I can see,' ground out the Hao clan primarch. His plans were in turmoil. No one had expected this. His clan had encountered a large group of these barbarians, they'd been in conflict with them. A conflict they had won easily after discovering the power the Silver Net held against barbarian weapons.

He frantically thought on those encounters. What had been different? None of those barbarians had used a weapon like this red-line thing! He hadn't had any idea such weapons existed! Why did none of them use this weapon? All he recalled was that those barbarians had all mostly looked like normal humans, they just carried these "guns" which were the only real danger from them. When Examined, the weapons had generally all been called either SMGs, shotguns, or pistols.

Those barbarians had had a leader, who'd looked more dangerous, more like the barbarians here who all seemed to be part-metal. But the leader had died very early on in their very first encounter, before the fighting even properly started. An overeager junior of the lightning path had blasted him, and then everyone else had thrown all they had and the barbarian died before he could even fight back.

But there had been many other barbarians. The Hao clan had needed to kill them all during the first month of their arrival. None of them had ever used what he'd just seen down there. Why? Was it simple bad luck? How had this happened?!

'Come,' he snapped. 'We need to go to the lobby.'

'To console older brother? Will he be okay? His… his face…'

'Don't worry,' he said, softening his voice when he saw his daughter's distraught expression. 'The Tournament is set to be non-lethal and without injury. He will be fine. As to consoling him, I will indeed have words with Jian,' he promised grimly. 'But we also need to secure that Yin-Yang Rotation Symbiote. We need it for your advancement, my treasured daughter.'

And more importantly, to bolster the military capabilities of the clan.

Back on their home planet, his clan had held many Yin-Yang Rotation Symbiotes. They were practically a requirement if a clan was to raise its younger generation at a good speed. But those Symbiotes as well as some others had been restricted, they'd not been able to bring them over. None had been found since, and from what he'd learned the other Clans were having similar trouble. They were all scrambling for the Yin-Yang Rotation Symbiotes. Whoever started getting those Symbiotes first, would have a significant advantage. I must take the Symbiote before another Primarch lays hands on it!

###

Nicolai appeared in the Duel Arena lobby. In his hand he held the Yin-Yang Rotation Symbiote. It took the form of two tiny snakes, one black, one white, both wrapped tight around each other and supposedly conjoined somewhere in the bundle they'd formed. They were in constant motion, appearing to rotate where they rested in a ball on his palm.

He weighed the Symbiote thoughtfully.

This was now his second Symbiote of this type. These Symbiotes were very valuable, for numerous reasons. The most obvious being that it was a repeat source of income. With one, he could create his own Yin-Yang Rotation pills or incense-sticks to sell. And of course, he would also be able to use one to rapidly complete his own internal system.

However, only one could be used at a time—this Symbiote operated somewhat oddly, it required the entire strength of one's Soul and significant focus—so having two wasn't necessarily of much use to him. But there were probably ways. He knew it was possible to lend Symbiotes. In this Phantom City there were even places one could setup quasi-Contracts allowing such things in a structured and insured manner. It was possible he could lend one to another and have them create the pills for him, and pay that individual a wage.

But Nicolai did not intend to do so. He intended to sell it now.

The reason for this was simple: it was the second he had received in a short time. The first had been the main reward for the Inheritance. This second was the main reward for this Tournament.

No doubt, there would be more Tournaments. No doubt, there were more Inheritances.

It seemed to him these Symbiotes were being purposefully made available as rewards. This meant that over time, the value of this Symbiote would go down as they became more commonplace.

That was his prediction, anyway. He could be wrong. It could be that instead, as more people found their way into the Game (as after all, not all from Earth were yet here, only a percentage), that in spite of any increase in their commonality, there would be so many people wanting one that their price rose instead of fell. It was never easy to predict such things.

His other reason returned to something Kleos had spoken to him of long ago, the idea of snowballing. Effectively, a smaller amount of resources right now was in many ways worth more than a larger amount later on, in contrast to typical reasoning and the concept of delayed gratification. This was because more resources now would give him more options immediately and allow him to grasp for opportunities which he might otherwise miss, and ultimately lead to a higher net gain.

As to selling it, he didn't anticipate any difficulties… all he had to do was stand here, visible, and wait.

From the crowd around him, people came forward.

'Well done, well done! You zeroed him like he owed you money! You slagged his fucking face off! Beautiful, beautiful!' This joyful outpouring came from a young Level 3 who, in many ways, reminded Nicolai of Vikrum. 'I'm Gregory,' said the man, 'and I would be hugely honoured if you would shake my hand!' A hand was thrust out with a somewhat imperious air. The man emanated that kind of unconscious arrogance and confidence possessed by only the very, very wealthy. Beside this man lingered a Level 2 with a long-suffering expression and sneaky eyes. Both of them were of the human aestheticism type, maintaining largely human forms though he knew that beneath their skin they would be heavily augmented.

Nicolai examined the hand and and the Level 3 it was attached to and detected no threat. He returned the smile while clasping the hand and giving it a firm, honest shake. 'Thank you for your good wishes. It was the support of yourself and others in the crowd that gave me the strength to win.' The meaningless words caused Gregory's smile to grow so large Nicolai thought it might split his face.

'Well, I can't take all the credit, hahaha!' burbled Gregory. 'Here, here!' He fished in a pocket and pullet out a bundle of points-tags. 'Buy yourself some of the wine they've got here, you earned it! And if you ever need anything, brain-tap me whenever!' The man poked him over Local, depositing a series of identifiers. Effectively, he'd just given Nicolai his phone number.

Nicolai gave him a nod, tucking the points-tags away. It was around 30,000—bringing him to 80,000. Not a bad gift. The man walked away, chuckling still. Every Earthborn he saw was looking at him with similar good feeling, raising fists and thumbs and calling out: 'Well done, great job!' He even received a few more gifts from the small crowd of excessively happy—and often quite drunk—gamblers who'd come to surround him, slapping his back and belching out their approval.

In contrast, the Cultivators around him were of a very different attitude.

'Barbarian scum! Fuck you and fuck your nine generations!' howled one insensate Tier 2 with a silver halo of spiritual light floating over her head. From the flush on her cheeks, she was also quite drunk. Her companion dragged her away as she continued to spit insults at him. The drunken rage proved quite a contrast to her otherwise haughty look, the perfect silk robes, pale skin and luxuriously dark hair.

Nicolai couldn't help but smile. Spirits sure are high today.

An old Cultivator clothed in white robes with a heavily lined face appeared beside him, smiling like a genial grandpa. 'I apologise for my people,' he said quietly. 'You won fairly, there's no denying it. I'm sure you're a busy man, as am I, so I'll get straight to business. I have an offer for you. That Symbiote you hold is of some minor value to me. I would be willing to take it off your hands for the great sum of 200,000 points-tags. What do you think?'

Nicolai glanced at him. 'I think that is too low.'

'Ah, I apologise. Profusely. 250,000?'

'Higher.'

The man made a face, sucking sourly on his teeth. 'Difficult, it really isn't worth that much. But I enjoyed watching you fight.' He sighed, and flicked his wrist dismissively. 'I suppose I can stretch to 300,000.'

'Higher.'

The old man scowled up at him. 'Barbar—' he coughed, 'My friend, don't make a mistake here. I'm being very kind to you. If you throw my kindness back into my face that's a grave insult. You respect your elders, don't you? You wouldn't want to insult someone like me, would you?'

'I want one million points-tags. If you don't have them, fuck off.'

The old man's mouth dropped open. 'One million! You're crazy! No one will pay that much! Who even has so much?!'

From the side, another old man appeared. 'Ah, there you are. Listen my fri—' Old man number 2 noticed old man number 1. The two glared at one another with such intensity Nicolai half expected the air between them to ignite. 'Oh, this old scammer has come to try something? Don't trust this old idiot, Nicolai. How much did he offer you? Some pitiful sum! I'll provide 400,000 points-tags for the Symbiote.'

'He wants one million, that's what he told me!'

'One million?!' Old man number 2's mouth hung open. 'Ridiculous!'

Yet another old man was coming towards him. He was with two others—on one side a young girl who couldn't be more than eight or nine, and on his other side was someone Nicolai knew well.

Jian. His face was restored to its previous state, entirely undamaged. The Cherubic Surgeons did good work. Even for a FleshDoc from Earth, fixing up the mess the Lasrgun had turned Jian's face into wouldn't have been so easy.

'Well met, Nicolai,' said this new arrival, old man number 3, warmly. 'I and my family have come to congratulate you on your win. It was well fought—'

'Well fought?!' snarled Jian, stepping forward. The glare he gave Nicolai contained nothing but hate and rage. He also seemed recovered from the pain and horror of his recent experience. Perhaps the Cherubic Surgeon had performed a little memory modification, too. You could get that on Earth—trauma removal brainjobs were a common request. 'You stole my win from me, filth! Hand over the Yin-Yang Rotation Symbiote, and we might leave you—'

He was stopped by a hand on his shoulder, one that dragged him back. 'Do not lose your composure,' said old man number 3, and the warmth was abruptly gone from his tone and face, eyes glinting like shards of ice. Nicolai noted a resemblance between them. This must be Jian's father. The look the two exchanged communicated a great deal. Jian sneered, breaking eye contact first.

'I would like to purchase the Symbiote from you,' the old man continued. He glanced at the other two old men, who glared back at him. 'For 600,000 points-tags.'

'He wants one million, that's what he told us,' said one of them snidely.

Jian's father chuckled. 'A bargaining strategy? No one would pay so much. I'm sure you can be persuaded to something more reasonable.'

'Then persuade me,' said Nicolai.

'I have a better idea!' snarled Jian, lunging forward before his father could grapple him, advancing on Nicolai. 'You and I fight again, and this time no cheating! You don't use that unfair weapon, and we have the fight we were meant to have! If I win, I get the Yin-Yang Rotation Symbiote!'

'Jian,' growled his father, reaching for the young man again, but Nicolai spoke before he could.

'You mean this weapon?' he asked, pulling out the Lasrgun and pointing it vaguely in Jian's direction. The man flinched, raising a reflexive hand to cover his face, eyes going wide. He remembered its bite. Nicolai smiled, and tucked it away. The sudden shock of fear would faintly destabilise Jian's mental state, and once it faded, the man's anger would only grow.

Nicolai wanted him angry. Angry people tended to be stupid. 'I accept your proposal of a rematch, and your rule,' he said. He sneered with bottomless contempt at Jian. 'I don't need to use the Lasrgun. I can win without it.'

Those around were silent, shocked. Even Jian was surprised, his eyes widening. Jian's father frowned, immediately wary, and the other old man exchanged glances, raising their eyebrows. It was clear that none had expected that he might take Jian's blustering words seriously, that he might agree to a fight so obviously mismatched.

He saw an opportunity to double his gains.

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