After the day's fights were over, Dylan said goodbye to his parents, feeling optimistic about the results he had achieved that day in the tournament.
Dylan's parents felt a weight had been lifted off their shoulders, because if Dylan won his two fights the next day, he would be just one fight away from becoming one of the 10 promising students of the Celestial Academy, and with that result, the Gray family's noble title would no longer be in jeopardy.
••••
When night fell, Dylan placed a book on the nightstand next to his bed. The book was about the Academy's rules.
"According to what I've read, I can basically do whatever I want. I just can't kill," Dylan concluded in his mind as he smiled subtly and wickedly.
Shortly after, Dylan got up, dressed in a beautiful, sumptuous black and gold robe and hood. He then left the Academy to visit the night streets of the capital.
Once Dylan had gotten away from the Academy and after making sure that no annoying people had followed him, he entered an alley and shortly after came out wearing a worn gray robe and hood.
Dylan moved away from the central area of the capital and arrived at a gloomy and marginalized area.
"It seems this city also needs cleaning up; how lucky that there is someone altruistic for cases like these," Dylan thought, trying to suppress his desire to laugh.
Although he wasn't short, he preferred to float to make himself look two meters tall.
The night had been boring; he had only found a few hungry homeless people, and he gave them the blessing of the Crimson God.
As he continued walking, the corners of Dylan's lips lifted into a smile.
"Well, well. What do we have here, a beggar, a drunk, a hungry man, and a sick prostitute; do you want to earn some money?" asked Dylan, who had entered a dark and dirty alleyway dressed suspiciously and mysteriously.
The four individuals looked at the hooded man with contempt, indifference, disappointment, or weariness.
"Let's put on a fabulous play; it will be called 'The Macabre Night of the Whore, the Drunk, the Beggar, and the Hungry Man. The genre of the play will be 'tragedy,' because only one of you can survive in the end," Dylan said enthusiastically as he opened a brown bag containing gold coins in front of them.
"Damn crazy man, let me sleep," said the beggar with annoyance, because he didn't believe Dylan's words.
Ah! Ah! Ah!
The beggar began to scream after a magical drop of water pierced one of his eyes and made it burst.
Dylan sighed and said in a cold voice, "Beggars are almost always insolent; I don't like insolence."
Dylan smiled as he looked at the other three, then said:
"It's 40 gold coins. Act in this play. Where only one can live in the end. If you understand, start acting or I'll be forced to change the name of the play and you won't like the result."
Enthusiastic words with a cold ending.
The beggar, despite being wounded, still wanted to live. Understanding Dylan's words, he ran to a trash can to try to find something useful, and while he searched, he glanced for a moment at the alley exit.
"You can try. What do you think will happen?" Dylan's words were full of malice.
The beggar swallowed hard, then continued searching until he found a glass bottle. He broke it by hitting it against the wall, then threw himself at the confused drunkard and struck him in the face with the sharp edges of the broken glass bottle.
Blood!
Blood!
Too late did the drunkard realize what was happening; his face was so disfigured that he was unrecognizable.
Meanwhile, the hungry man and the whore struggled, and since one was weak from hunger and the other from disease, the battle remained at a stalemate until the remains of the glass bottle lodged in the hungry man's neck.
The beggar jumped on the prostitute and strangled her.
Then, trembling, he bowed before Dylan and said in a submissive voice:
"I hope you enjoyed the performance, sir."
Dylan smiled. He disliked the beggar, but he liked what he said.
Bang!
The bag with the 40 gold coins fell in front of the beggar. He picked up the bag, and when he looked up, Dylan was gone.
...
Dylan continued walking through the alleys, feeling satisfied.
[Perverse Acts: +1 Perverse Point]
"Apparently, the system recognizes my altruism; I just helped clean up those cities until I reached the capital. System, put the point in mana, strength can wait a little," Dylan said in his mind.
[Mana + 1 Perverse Point]
...
Dylan returned to his room and went into the bathroom to take a shower.
"The performance of those four was more entertaining than all the fights in the tournament; I should organize more theater plays," Dylan thought as the water ran over his slender and toned body.
••••
On the second day of the tournament, Dylan was sitting in the stands with his parents, watching the battles taking place in the coliseum's arena.
At that moment, in the battle arena, Evon was covered in bruises, his uniform was somewhat damaged, there was some blood on his face, and yet he refused to give up.
Evon was a 2-Suns warrior (maximum level), and his opponent was a 3-Moon mage (intermediate level).
What made the difference was not only the power ranking, but also skill. The mage accurately threw icicles or stone bullets that hit or cut his opponent.
Evon tried to close the distance again, using his mana to harden and protect his sword, with which he cut or blocked some of his opponent's attacks, but he was still inferior. However, he refused to give up despite his injuries, because Dylan had told him it was forbidden or he would be punished. However, Evon's performance was courageous in the eyes of the audience, and he earned the admiration of a large part of the crowd.
Dylan laughed inwardly as he continued to watch the battle unfold.