Sweatdrops trickled down the faces of young men and women of the closed room. Their chests moved up and down with rhythmical breathing, and sometimes their bodies twitched but returned to normal shortly afterward.
Ichiro looked at the scene with a calm look as his face looked relaxed like he had everything in control.
He glanced at the smartwatch, and a small smile crept upon his face.
[6:21:02]
[Eliminations: 11]
[Rank: 1]
[Fighters Left: 61]
As Ichiro expected.
No one in the room dared to be the first one to spill blood; instead, everyone took a calm approach.
But, Ichiro is aware that the VIPs don't have great patience, and this stalemate can't last hold forever.
He has felt that the amount of gazes locked onto him had reduced by a lot. There were only a few, and one of them was the individual in the dark room.
The silence of the closed room continued for another half an hour until finally, someone felt impatient at the wait.
It was a young man with short brown hair and a pale face with his average facial features. There wasn't anything special about him. His body stature was quite lean, with small muscles and almost invisible abs.
He would be unnoticeable in the streets, and he would be the classmate everyone has difficulties remembering.
That young man's concentration slipped by a lot. His face was already drenched in sweat, with dripping noises coming from his direction as his sweat fell down to the ground.
His vision had become a blurry long time ago, and it became increasingly difficult to keep his fighting stance as his posture started shaking.
The moment everyone was expecting... Happened.
As he tried to move his right leg to remove slight numbness, he accidentally slipped on the wet ground, which was caused by his sweating, which caused him to fall down on the ground.
''Agh!'' He cried out, and once he was faceplanting on the ground. He knew the predicament he was in.
He tried to urgently to stand up. His face was filled with disbelief after making such an amateurish mistake only Martial Novice's should do.
And that mistake... Cost him his life.
The young woman next to him had a cold look on her above-average face as she pushed her sword through the young man's nape.
''UGH!'' The young man widened his eyes in shock as the blood started flowing from his mouth and coloring the ground below him in red. He saw the sword's blade pushing through his throat, and he felt something metallic stuck on his throat.
It was like there was food stuck in his mouth, and he tried to swallow it, but nothing worked.
Except replace the food with a piece of metal that was larger than his windpipe.
He felt like he was trying to swallow that piece of metal, and if he couldn't do it, he would die.
The light soon left his eyes, and he fell lifelessly on the ground as he took his last breath in his short life.
The young woman quickly pulled her sword from the young man's throat but couldn't do it in time, and another sword flew through the air and separated her head from her shoulders.
Only a bloody fountain appeared as the young woman's figure became instantly red-colored, like she had been bathing in an ocean of blood.
Her head landed in the middle of the room, and her body fell like a tree on the ground.
The one who killed her was a young man with masculine facial features and body, which was bulging with muscles and steroids.
He was carrying a heavy-looking long sword, which could break bones and organs with a single slash.
He looked at least around 25s, but he was only around 18 years old, which made Ichiro remember Lucas, who was quite similar to him.
The muscular young man looked around him warily; his eyes showed the coldness and ruthlessness that is needed to survive in this tournament.
Everyone else didn't dare to make a move. One of the young men in the room could have tried to attack the muscular young man, but his muscular stature made him intimidated.
Again, the room turned to the previous tranquility.
The muscular young man didn't dare to attack another one. He already captured everyone's attention, and now everyone will be wary of him.
His eyes showed greediness when looking at the wooden box on the other side of the room.
It is key to his survival, and he would even kill his family to get his hands on it.
Ichiro looked at the scene with a calm smile, with his eyebrows being slightly curved. He had a hunch that there might be few skirmishes during the stalemate, but he didn't expect the fight to end so soon.
He expected everyone to lose their cool and start fighting until they got their bearings back.
But, he needed to admit that the muscular young man did have brains. If he had attacked someone else, he would have died from a backstab.
He took a slight glance at the wooden box and looked at the cravings with a frown. The carvings showed individuals fighting with some kind of round object in the sky.
'People fighting underneath the moon...' Ichiro pondered deeply, but then he remembered one folklore he heard in the High School of Fighting.
'The ones who are fighting underneath the moon aren't Martial Artists. They are Rankless Ones who was born from the light of the moon.' Ichiro's face soon had the dawn of realization.
'Hmm...' Ichiro shrugged, he didn't completely understand why those cravings were in the wooden box, and at this moment, it really didn't matter.
With the corner of his eyes, he saw the young men and women near him having very weak-looking expressions. It is exhausting to keep their concentration on the max for an hour without stopping.
It is only a matter of time before more mistakes will happen.
