The Olympus Debate Arena wasn't just another amphitheater. It was a coliseum—designed to test not only intellect, but also charisma, timing, and mental endurance. Holographic spotlights shifted over polished obsidian floors, while transparent digital scoreboards hovered in the air above.
This wasn't a club activity. It was war.
Debates at Olympus were a sanctioned form of academic combat—high-stakes intellectual showdowns where ideas could win money, tier points, and social standing. And today's match came with a prize: 20 Tier Boost Points and 20,000 Creds.
Lucas Grant stood at his podium, dressed sharply in a black-collared jacket with a silver trim. He didn't speak yet. He just stared at his opponent across the stage—Tristan Vale, Tier 1, ranked 62.
Arena Grant's lapdog.
Tristan cracked his knuckles and smiled mockingly. "Didn't expect to be debating a charity case today."
The crowd snickered. Most of them were Tier 1s and 2s seated in staggered rows, watching from their skybox lounges.
Lucas didn't flinch. "You'll regret underestimating charity when it robs you of everything."
A deep voice rang out from the moderator's dais. Topic: 'Reputation is more valuable than capital in a modern startup."' Opening round: 90 seconds per speaker. Begin."
Round 1 – Opening Arguments
Tristan went first. Confident. Loud. "Capital is king. Without it, your reputation can't pay salaries, scale operations, or survive competition. In Olympus—and in life—money opens doors. Reputation without resources is fiction. Like Microvest."
Some in the audience chuckled.
Lucas's turn.
He stepped forward, posture calm, voice steady.
"You're not wrong. Capital is king—but only in kingdoms people believe in. Reputation is what makes investors say yes. It's what makes users trust an untested product. Reputation is your narrative—capital is just the amplifier. The question isn't whether you need money. It's whether people will give it to you. And they only do that when they believe in you."
His words echoed.
Round 2—Crossfire
The moderator tapped the digital timer. "Open floor. Two minutes. Begin crossfire."
Tristan leaned forward. "You think your speech will change anything? Half this school thinks you're a fluke. A provisional nobody riding luck."
Lucas didn't blink. "And you're someone's footnote. I build. You follow."
Tristan's eyes narrowed. "You think your ideas matter without pedigree? No one invests in people like you. Not long-term."
Lucas stepped closer. "Then thank you for showing us how shallow Olympus truly is. You prove my point. Reputation matters more—because without it, even your 50,000 creds can't hide how small your ambition is."
Oohs rippled through the audience. Even some Tier 2s leaned forward.
Round 3 – Closing Statements
Tristan's voice faltered a little. "Money builds empires."
Lucas raised a finger. "Wrong. Money funds empires. But reputation decides who leads them."
He gestured to the crowd.
"In the end, Olympus isn't scared of broke students. It's scared of students who make others believe. Reputation creates capital. Capital without reputation dies."
Final Score: Lucas Grant – 89. Tristan Vale – 73.
The scoreboard flared.
Victor: Lucas Grant.
The audience erupted in surprised murmurs. Even some of Tristan's friends looked away. The system logged the reward in real time.
+20 Tier Boost +20,000 Creds Total Tier Points: 55 Total Creds: $51000
Lucas walked off the stage without fanfare.
He didn't smile.
He didn't wave.
He just walked past Tristan, who stood frozen in a cloud of silence and shame.
Later That Night—Grant Estate
Raj practically broke the door down. "You crushed it, bro! People are actually talking—like, respectfully this time."
Theo followed, holding up a tablet. "Look at this. Your debate got clipped and posted on Olympus Pulse. Over 10,000 views. And more importantly"—
"—They're calling you a disruptor," Raj finished. "Some Tier 2 students are even following your Microvest page."
Lucas sat at his desk, still dressed from the debate. His mind was already elsewhere.
"55 Tier Points," he muttered. "Just need 55 more to change my status."
Lucas nodded slowly. "It's not just about the rank. Olympus is a machine. A giant one. And now, I'm not just surviving in it…"
He opened his Microvest dev console.
"…I'm beginning to shape it."
He'd already used some of the earlier prize money to pay three Olympus freelancers to help him scale the MVP: a backend systems dev, a UX strategist, and an AI algorithm tester.
Now, with $50,000 in total credit and growing influence, he could finally consider a soft launch of a demo version—maybe even target select Tier 2s to be "influencer backers."
Elsewhere—Olympus Council Archive Hall
Sierra Lin tapped through data logs.
"Lucas Grant," she said aloud again.
One of her assistants—an expressionless girl named Kyra—looked over. "He beat Tristan Vale."
"I saw," Sierra replied. "And that wasn't luck. That was precision."
Kyra raised a brow. "So, what now? Still think he's a tool?"
"No," Sierra said. "I think he's a weapon. Just not ours yet."
She watched another clip—Lucas's final debate line:
"Reputation creates capital. Capital without reputation dies."
Sierra smiled faintly.
"Let's see how far he thinks reputation can take him… before someone burns it down."