The crowd in the center of Iacreumor was buzzing like a beehive. Everyone had heard of Leroy45. PCasher, known for his sudden attacks and thirst for other people's loot. No one expected someone to dare challenge him in the middle of the square.
Leroy45 gripped the hilt of his sword so tightly that his knuckles turned white. His nostrils flared with anger, but there was also a hint of doubt in his eyes.
—You're a dead man...
He roared, but before he could take a step, a player wearing a black and blue hat, a fellow guild member, ran up to him.
—Leroy! Think about it, you don't even know who he is. The mask, the katana... I haven't seen anything like this in the top rankings before, and that's suspicious. Maybe he's a veteran who's been through the beta test.
His companion in the black and blue hat started whispering to Leroy45, but Leroy scowled at him and quickly waved his right hand.
—Get out of the way! I won't back down! Let everyone see who's in charge.
The guildsman only shook his head and retreated into the crowd, knowing that it was impossible to hold him back.
At that moment, Zikei slowly turned to face his opponent. His movements were light and precise, as if he had practiced them hundreds of times.
He placed his hand on the hilt of his katana and slowly pulled it out of its sheath. The steel glinted with a cold light, reflecting the natural lights of the city.
[ PvP mode activated ]
—You shouldn't have interfered. This is not your battle!
I clenched my fists and took a step forward. Zikei turned his head in my direction. Through the slits in his mask, I could see those green eyes.
—Don't worry. I've been wanting to teach him a lesson for a long time.
The words were spoken with such confidence that I was taken aback for a moment. A thought crossed my mind: perhaps they were already acquainted?
PCasher and the samurai, as if they were old enemies whose paths had once crossed and left a mark on their destinies.
The crowd parted, forming a wide circle for the duel. The air was filled with the buzz of voices as the gamblers eagerly placed their bets and argued about the odds of each fighter.
Leroy45 raised his sword sharply, his eyes burning with hatred like a fierce flame ready to consume everything around him. Zikei, on the other hand, calmly lowered his katana, adopting a relaxed stance.
He looked as if he felt confident, waiting for a silent signal to deliver an inevitable blow.
The tension filled the air, becoming palpable like a vibration in the atmosphere.
Suddenly, the crowd fell silent, the neon lights lost their brilliance, and my breath became barely perceptible.
PCasher with a scarlet skull shining above his name. And a samurai with a yekai mask, whose cold green eyes shone like sharp blades. It was at that moment that their duel began.
The crowd fell silent as Leroy45 burst into laughter, pointing his sword at me, which only made me more annoyed and made me want to punch them in the face.
—Are you serious, masquerade? Why are you defending this toad? He won't last a week in the game!
The whisper spread around the circle. The players looked at me, some with a sneer, others with averted eyes. My heart ached, but I stubbornly straightened my back.
Zikei didn't say a word. His silence was heavier than any threat. He just gripped the hilt of his katana a little tighter and took a slow step to the side, as if drawing an invisible circle.
—Hey! I'm talking to you!
Leroy45 shouted and lunged forward with fury. His sword cut through the air with a deafening whistle, but the blade met only emptiness. Zikei slipped to the side, his black robe flowing like a shadow.
—Wow, this samurai can do that?
— I wonder what kind of skill that is?
Leroy45 turned around, struck again, then another furious, sweeping blow. But each time the samurai's katana moved a fraction of a second to the side, and Zikei himself moved with that smooth, frightening economy of movement that distinguished a master from a novice.
—You fucking silent man! Do you think you can just dodge? I'll cut you to pieces!
Zikei remained silent, his green eyes shining coldly and calmly behind his mask. He didn't attack, just watched, waiting.
I watched the fight and felt a strange sensation: the more Leroy was furious, the more pathetic he seemed next to this calm, unperturbed samurai.
The crowd was already starting to whisper:
"He's playing with him..."
"Zikei's waiting for him to run out of steam..."
"Leroy's going to put himself in a hole."
The fight became more intense with each blow. The players formed a ring around them, turning the bar area into an arena.
Leroy45's sword flashed, leaving sparks on the stone slabs with each swing. His movements were sharp, chaotic, but powerful, filled with rage.
Zikei, however, remained calm. His every dodge was precise, his katana blocking almost lazily, as if he was exerting the minimum amount of effort. The crowd was already whispering, calling his style the "dance of the shadow".
—You stand still, coward!
Shouted Leroy45, rushing forward. He activated one of his skills, the blade flaring up in a red flame, leaving a trail of fire behind. Strike, another strike, each more powerful than the last.
And in that moment, Zikei's katana faltered slightly on the block, and Leroy, sensing an opportunity, slashed hard from the side. The steel of the sword cut through the ekai's mask.
There was a crack, and the mask shattered, raining shards to the ground. The crowd waited, wondering what this player would do.
Under the shards, Zikei's face was revealed, sharp features, dark hair, and eyes... green, cold, and piercing. His face was still, but the slight narrowing of his eyes and the tightness of his lips made it clear that the mask was dear to him. It was not just a piece of equipment; it was his identity.
The silence lasted only a moment. The next air seemed to thicken, Zeke's voice quiet, but for the first time, steel glinted.
—You shouldn't have done that.
Now his movements were different: fast, sharp, and merciless. Zikei stopped dodging and started attacking. One combo attack followed another, and the skills intertwined in a deadly dance. The players couldn't keep up with his blade.
Leroy45 tried to defend himself, but his blocks broke under the pressure, and his panicked movements revealed the trembling in his hands.
—What the... hell?!
The last strike was decisive: Zikei activated a special skill, and the katana left an arc of green light. The blade passed through Leroy45's body, cutting him in half.
Leroy45's screen flashed, and his avatar crumbled into pixels. He removed his helmet and began shouting loudly, aggressively pounding the table with his fist.
Items fell to the ground with a dull clatter: armor, potions, and a rare sword. All of this automatically transferred to Zikei, as agreed upon.
The crowd gasped. Some whistled in admiration, while others recoiled nervously. Zikei stood motionless, holding his katana in a lowered hand. His face remained stony, only his eyes burned with cold fire.
—That's how people end up who can't keep their mouths shut.
The two guildmates of Leroy, wearing a red hat and a blue hat, looked at each other. One of them, clenching his fists, shouted:
—You'll regret this, samurai! We'll return with the guild and take everything back!
The other added grimly:
—No one dares to treat our people this way. This is just the beginning.
Their figures disappeared into the crowd, but their angry glances made it clear that this was not an empty threat.
Zikei, standing in the middle of the circle, slowly wiped the pixelated blood from his katana. His green eyes flashed beneath the broken pieces of his ekai mask, which lay at his feet.
His face was calm, almost emotionless, as if he had not just killed a player, but had simply performed a routine action.
I exhaled and took a step towards him. My heart was still racing from the fight, and Leroy's words about the toad were still ringing in my head. I clenched my teeth to suppress my resentment, but I still spoke to the samurai.
—Are you really going to take all the items?
Zikei turned his head towards me. His gaze was cold, but there was a hint of irony in it.
—Of course. That's the rule, the winner takes everything.
—But if you take everything, he'll be left with nothing. It's not fair...
—Hm, fairness? There's no such thing as fairness in this game. There's only power and price.
The corners of his lips twitched slightly. Zikey crouched down, picked up one of Leroy45's valuable items, and turned it over in his hands, as if calculating the value.
— I'll sell everything in a pawnshop. For a much higher price than it's worth. And then Leroy will be able to buy his things back. But... three times more expensive.
—So... you'll also benefit from his defeat?
—I stared at him, dumbfounded. Zikei nodded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
—Of course. Unlike him, I don't fight for cheap bragging rights. I fight for profit.
A nervous chuckle rippled through the crowd. A few players nodded in approval, but most looked on warily. They all knew that the hunt was about to begin.