Nicolai faced Jian across the breadth of the arena. It was the same as last time, because Jian had stipulated such in the rules; a simple circular expanse of sand, surrounded on all sides by the coliseum-like rise of the stands.

Just as last time, the battle would last until the system detected lethal damage. Neither of them could die, the only losses to be had were reputation and Symbiotes.

Jian therefore had significantly more than Nicolai riding on this fight. Both his reputation and his most important Symbiotes were at stake. As to Nicolai, he had a second Yin-Yang Rotation Symbiote, and only a small reputation.

That would change when he won this, he knew. That wasn't necessarily good or bad. A reputation had downsides, but also benefits. They were easy enough to shuck, in his opinion. As a lone operator he could take on a new alias and appearance whenever he wished.

Stretching his body, he reflected that it was good to be alone. Life was simpler now. So long as he kept an eye on his Mask and prevented it from forming attachments, life would remain so. As he felt it peering out through his eyes at his opponent, and drawing his gaze up to the stands to find Jian's family, he reflected that this was easier said than done.

That poor man has no idea, thought the Mask.

Nicolai snorted. He is the one who threw himself at me. What is about to happen could be considered… a learning experience.

###

In the stands above many of the same individuals as before had gathered, as there was a thirty minute gap between Tournament One and the start of Tournament Two, which this grudge match slotted nicely into. Not everyone, of course, as quite a few—especially those planning to fight in it—were currently busy buying or trying to buy Silver Nets, Lasrguns, or whatever else they thought might work against either of those, but the crowd was also also bolstered by numerous additions. Those who'd heard about the drama, come to observe. Overall, it was a mass of viewers just as large as had been present for the final of Tournament One.

One of these viewers stared down at the skin-suited form of Nicolai with far more familiarity than any other.

It was Vikrum, who had also been given access to this section of the Phantom City. He had come a little later, having been busy helping defend the Trade Link Tower from another Toothbearer attack, and thus he'd missed the events of the first couple hours.

Not long ago, Katnin, his second, who'd been exploring while he'd busied himself at the Information Guild, came to tell him she'd heard something interesting.

That the Level One Tournament had ended with a big controversy, and now the winner was going to fight the runner-up in a rematch. He hadn't been particularly interested, until she'd hissed that she recognised the winner.

'It's fucking him. It's Nicolai. It's Viper!'

He'd come quick, and now the two of them stared down from where they sat.

'It is him,' he snarled, barely restrained rage in his voice. He recognised that skinsuit and the rapier on Nicolai's hip. He supposed he should have expected this. 'The shit always rises to the top,' he muttered disgustedly.

'What's that? What're you jabbering about?' asked Katnin. She cradled a paper box of something that looked a lot like popcorn. 'Hey, you think this is to the death? We might be about to watch him get his head torn off!' She let out a vicious cackle.

'It's not to the death,' spoke a pale, dark haired little girl who sat beside her, one of these Cultivators. She looked worried, and was giving Katnin a rather dim look. Beside her was an old grandad of a Cultivator wearing ornate white robes, frowning grimly at the two figures in the arena. 'Just until lethal damage is detected,' the girl peeped.

'Ahh? Eh. Oh, well, mmm,' said Katnin, spraying a mouthful of half-chewed whatever-it-was. The tiny girl stared at her, mouth slightly open and face crinkled in an expression of fascinated disgust. 'Shame,' Katnin added, not noticing. 'Eh? Shame isn't it?'

She poked Vikrum in the side, and his face tightened with brief irritation. She still called him boss, but back in the tower she was almost as much a leader as he was, now, and her manner had changed as a result.

'Hey, you gonna go and challenge him after this?' continued Katnin. 'You might be able to get a proper fight this time!'

Vikrum sat back. He took his version of a deep breath, and tried to think of what Cornwall would say. Probably… Don't fight him, wait until you hold all the cards, play it safe, and more shit like that. The bitter anger in his guts made him want to pull his assault rifle, take aim at that distant figure and start blasting, but even he knew that would accomplish nothing. Probably some barrier between them and the arena, and outside in the City there was that reflection-protection thing.

'No,' he snarled. 'Not here. Not now. I'll wait. One of these day… one of these fucking days that bastard will find himself in a bad spot. And when he's in it, I'll be ready.' His teeth locked. 'Ready to turn him into red mist,' he hissed.

Her eyebrows were raised. 'Wait and see, huh? I guess its the smart strat, though I thought you'd be jacked to dive straight into a rematch.'

He took a few heavy breaths and attempted a smile, but knew it came out as a grimace. 'I suppose I'm learning.'

'Well, for me I hope he gets creamed. Fuckin' worm.'

'My apologies for… for intruding… again,' came that tiny peeping voice once more, and he and Katnin peered over. 'Did you say you've fought him before?' The little girl was staring at him with worried little eyes, and the old man beside her was also looking over.

'That's right,' muttered Vikrum. 'And here's my advice if you're considering the same: Don't.'

The old man swallowed. 'Why?'

'Because he's a sneaky piece of shit. Because he doesn't play fair. Because he's probably not even playing the same game, and because if you think you've pinned him down—you haven't, and even if you have, he'll probably worm out of it somehow then bite you in the fucking throat.' Vikrum scoffed, roughly crossing his arms and shaking his head. 'But it's all good. I'm fine. I'm relaxed. I'm calm.'

'Yes you are, boss,' said Katnin, nodding approvingly. 'Well done.'

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

'Thank you.'

The Hao Clan Primarch gazed down into the arena, and the two distant figures facing one other. After Vikrum's words his frown was grimmer than ever. 'That's my son down there,' he murmured.

Vikrum shrugged. 'Your son has already lost.'

He put up his feet on top of the empty seat in front of him and settled back, wondering just how the hell this was going to go down. Hateful as the man was, there was no denying he was good at what he did. He was sure that Cornwall would have said he should watch closely, and learn more about his enemy.

As always, he felt a strange, painful clenching deep inside at the thought of Cornwall. His adviser since he was fifteen years old. His confidant. His friend. Gone. His eyes fell upon Nicolai. Because of him.

Around them, the Arena was filled with sound as Cultivators screamed Jian's name, and Cyborgs howled Nicolai's.

###

'Hear that crowd, Nicolai?' spoke Jian across the gap. 'They can't wait to see you lose! I look forward to seeing your flailing attempts to survive, now you don't have that crutch to lean on. It'll be fruitless, obviously—as it should have been last time. You will lose, I will win, and all will be as it should be.'

Nicolai waited, still and silent.

'Nothing to say?' spat Jian, teeth clenching and face reddening as his studied calm fell away to reveal the rage beneath. 'Look at you! Acting like you have a chance! I'm going to put you down and your people will hate and mock you for losing! They will call you… call you… Nicolai the Loser!' His voice rose into a squeal. 'You're trash! Vermin!'

The desperate rage and angry words fell upon Nicolai like a gentle rain. He was positively zen.

Above them light flashed, forming into a number.

10…

The countdown had begun. With the first number, the restrictions placed upon them, that had kept them from pulling weapons or activating Symbiotes, were partly lifted. Jian began to charge his Symbiotes.

9… 8…

Nicolai gazed at Jian, and in the man's face he saw a sudden shock and horror, washing over the Cultivator's features, painting his cheeks white, stretching his mouth and rounding his eyes.

7… 6…

'Wha-what?!' croaked Jian, flapping his left hand where the Symbiotes for the Silver Net resided. 'I can't activate the Silver Net!' he screeched, thrashing his arm frantically, odd ripples coming from him, staccato as he tried and failed to activate the combination of Symbiotes again and again. 'What?! What have you done!'

5…

Nicolai drew his M99 from the Big Mouth with measured speed, hand over hand. As always he felt it a strange sight, seeing such a long, long gun gradually emerging from the mouth on his chest. It slipped free and he pressed it against his shoulder, wrapped his arms around it, felt it as a part of him as he sighted down it. He'd removed the scope, and the iron sights settled on Jian. He took the man in. Saw how his teeth were clenched, face twisted with stress and rage and fear. Sweat shone on Jian's brow as made raising motions with his hands, summoning as many barrier leafs as he could—a green tornado which formed around him.

Time passed quickly.

2… 1…

Jian's body was set, defensive and afraid, looking more ready to run than to fight. Nicolai knew why.

The man was too jarred by the shock of being unable to activate the Symbiote he'd pinned all his hopes on. He'd known many who reacted the same, fighters who when all their equipment was perfect, and the fight was just as they had anticipated, would perform just as perfectly. But throw a single jarring problem and their skills and instincts would collapse, a sandcastle washed away by the sea.

It was a fairly typical response in those with limited experience. One had to experience loss, to suffer those brutal moments and the sudden shock of all their plans falling apart, time and time again, to learn to deal with it in the moment.

Nicolai had such experience behind him, and knew he would have responded better than Jian.

Begin.

Jian dove to the side but Nicolai tracked and fired. The bullet smashed through the floating leaves between them and caught Jian in the side. His Burst Shield erupted in a spray of broken Oma, and was instantly replaced as Jian activated a standard Skin Shield beneath.

Nicolai cranked the bolt and fed a fresh round in.

Jian's lips were peeled in a snarl as he veered and dashed towards Nicolai, screaming out, arm raised. Realising at last that his only chance was to strike and win before he himself was downed. The Spectral Claw extended, grabbing tight onto the ground just as Nicolai's Grasping Finger did, and it pulled, launching the Cultivator rapidly forward.

The second gunshot rang out, the second great round slammed into Jian's Skin Shield and it detonated just as the last had, a great blast of cloud-like Oma spraying out behind him. The Cultivator was stripped, his only protection the robes that covered his form, and the leaves that rushed in a storm between them.

No protection at all, then.

Nicolai's hands moved in a blur, cranking the bolt and slipping the third heavy round inside.

'Die!' screamed Jian as he charged into range, arm extended, the Spectral Claw reaching for Nicolai.

Nicolai aimed and fired in a singular flowing motion. The 50 BMG round tore through the air, slicing through floating leaves like a laser through butter.

The Spectral Claw arrived and scissored around Nicolai, a great maw slamming closed.

But before the Claw could touch his flesh, the bullet had already caught Jian dead between his eyes.

Lethal damage detected.

Combat over.

VICTOR: NICOLAI

###

The stands above were frozen, utterly silent, all the watchers struck dumb. For an instant there was only the wind, sighing through the stands. Then the shouts began to rise.

The Cultivators didn't know how it had happened, they didn't understand precisely what Nicolai had done. But they all knew he'd done something. They knew, that once again, he had…

'CHEATER!' the cry came from hundreds of Cultivating throats and grew into one great unified shout of rage and dismay, echoing across the arena. It buried the more disorganised jeers and gleeful screams from the Earthborn watching.

'Tricked. He tricked us…' murmured the Hao clan Primarch, standing ramrod straight, hands gripping white-knuckle tight on the railing

'Told you,' said Vikrum. Gazing at the man, he felt that he was looking at a kind of kindred soul. For a moment he considered saying something. But what was there to say? And anyway, these robe-wearing people were enemies, right? He'd never personally encountered them out in the wild, but everyone else said they were vicious and dangerous. That said, they couldn't all be bad. The little girl was obviously innocent.

Shrugging inwardly, he rose. 'Let's go, Katnin.'

'Yessir. Damn shame. Poor ol' Jian didn't stand a chance.'

'That… that…' came a tiny, distraught voice. It was the little girl, staring with horror into the arena. 'That barbarian bastard!' she shrilled. 'I hate him, I hate that scum!' She turned a glare on Vikrum and Katnin. 'I hate all of you,' she hissed with more venom than Vikrum would have thought such a small girl could have fit inside.

Vikrum and Katnin exchanged glances, Katnin letting out a startled laugh.

'Hey, I'm with you,' he told the little girl. 'We're not all like that piece of shit, he—'

'Silence scum,' snapped the old man, brushing imperiously past them and gathering up the little girl with one hand.

Vikrum watched them go, not sure what to think.

'Another victim of the Viper, eh?' said Katnin. 'You guys should form a support group or something.' She threw her hands up defensively when he shot her a furious glare. 'Hey, just saying!'

###

As the blue orb swallowed him and he felt it preparing to transport him to the waiting room, Nicolai gazed out at the stands. He could see the viewers, screaming and yelling. He had the impression that a lot of people were very angry with him.

Nicolai didn't feel shame over what he'd done. He only felt two things. Satisfaction over successfully worming his way through a tricky situation in order to seize what he'd wanted, and, beside that, a faint disappointment.

It would have been a great fight. He wasn't sure whether he'd have won against Jian, without the Lasrgun or by manipulating him into accepting a ban on the Silver Net—a simple trick which had allowed him to win with minimal risk and little effort.

The Mask found this confusing.

Don't you want to be the greatest warrior? it asked him.

I do.

So why did you cheat?

Nicolai considered. Because drives need to be managed and controlled. High stake fights, where there is much on the line, are one way to improve myself. But regardless they are a risk and thus should be avoided where possible. In this case, I had an option to gain significantly while avoiding any risk. Therefore it was the correct action. While he had these thoughts, Threat Analysis was nodding fervently, very pleased with his decision. And furthermore… added Nicolai, at the end of the day, the greatest warrior…

Is the one who wins.

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