บท 6: Chapter 5: Debut at the Heaven's Arena!
As Raymond and the attendant made their way to the battle arena, she took the time to explain the rules and prize money to him.
"It's pretty straightforward," she remarked.
The rules were simple:
Weapons were prohibited on the first floors up to the 190s. Beyond that, there were no rules.
Combatants could fight freely without any time limits, and a match ended when one fighter scored 10 points, resulting in a technical knockout or when there was a knockout.
Scoring was based on hits.
Clean hits were worth 1 point, while critical hits earned 2 points.
Additionally, if a fighter was knocked down by their opponent's attack, it counted as a point for the attacker.
However, the interesting part was the scoring of critical hits.
Referees had their own personal styles when awarding critical hits, so whether a hit was considered critical or not depended entirely on the referee's judgment.
The prizes varied depending on the floor levels. For the lower floors, up to 50, contestants won modest rewards like money for drinks.
But as the floors climbed, so did the rewards.
From floors 50 to 99, winners received a hefty sum of 50,000 Jenny.
Beyond that, the rewards skyrocketed.
Floor 100 to 149 winners took home a whopping 1,000,000 Jenny, equivalent to $10,000 in Raymond's previous life.
Floors 150 to 189 offered an even grander prize of 10,000,000 Jenny.
The stakes rose dramatically on floor 190, with winners receiving a staggering 200,000,000 Jenny.
Additionally, from the 100s floor, fighters were granted additional rewards such as private rooms.
The revelation of the extravagant rewards left Raymond with a furrowed brow. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss.
The sheer amount of money being thrown around hinted at a flawed banking system in this world.
It dawned on him that rampant printing of money could lead to severe inflation, which likely contributed to the sprawling slums surrounding the city.
"...Getting rich won't solve much if the economy is this messed up," Raymond muttered in dismay.
His thoughts then turned to the absence of a crucial rule: the deathmatch. Recalling stories from his past life, Raymond remembered hearing about this rule in Heaven's Arena.
As he cast a questioning glance at the attendant, Raymond couldn't shake the nagging feeling in his mind.
Why wasn't the deathmatch rule mentioned?
Despite his curiosity, he noted the attendant's professionalism and decided to set the thought aside for the time being.
His attention was quickly diverted as an announcement echoed through the arena.
"Contestants number 1102 and 1150, please proceed to arena number 5."
With a shrug, Raymond brushed off his concerns and headed towards the designated arena, ready to face whatever challenges awaited him.
Though his body was still hurting from the whole fiasco a while back in the slum, Raymond could feel his body was a lot better which he had consider as his young body that was used to such a harsh condition which granted him the ability to heal faster.
"..."
As he approached the arena, he couldn't help but observe the other fighters who awaited their turn.
Silently, he categorized them into three distinct groups:
First, there were those who fought for fame, seeking recognition and adoration from the crowd.
Then, there were those who fought solely to become stronger, driven by a relentless determination to improve themselves.
And finally, there were those who fought out of desperation, their eyes betraying a sense of urgency born from their dire need for money.
Raymond couldn't help but shake his head at the latter group, recognizing the folly in their decision to risk their lives for a chance at financial gain.
"...Such a reckless choice," He muttered, feeling a pang of sympathy for those who had resorted to such desperate measures.
As Raymond approached the arena, he sized up his opponent, a middle-aged man with disheveled hair and tattered clothing.
The desperation in the man's eyes was palpable, yet there was also a glimmer of determination shining through.
"If only I had the funds, I could start over. This time, I'll do it properly..." the man muttered to himself, his voice carrying a mix of desperation and resolve.
Raymond raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the man's unwavering sense of purpose despite his dire circumstances.
It was uncommon to encounter such determination in someone facing such desperation.
When the man noticed his opponent was just a twelve-year-old kid, his mutterings ceased abruptly, replaced by a deep frown.
"...Why am I fighting a kid?"
"..."
Raymond remained unfazed, his demeanor calm and collected, which only seemed to deepen the man's scowl.
"Do you even understand where you are, brat?"
The man challenged, his tone laced with irritation.
Raymond met his gaze squarely, his crimson eyes piercing.
"I do. How about you?"
He replied nonchalantly, a hint of seriousness in his voice.
"Do you understand where you are?"
"...Huh?"
The man faltered, taken aback by the sharpness in Raymond's gaze. He began to realize that this kid was no ordinary opponent.
"Alright, you asked for it then? I'll give you a beating you won't forget," the man threatened, attempting to regain his bravado.
"I'll beat you so hard, you'll feel it in your parents' place..."
"I'm an orphan..."
"..."
Silence fell between them as the man processed Raymond's words, realizing he had been outwitted by a mere child.
He begrudgingly acknowledged that this kid was playing him like a fiddle, that annoying smirk a clear indication of his amusement.
The referee enjoyed the brief banter between the fighters before clearing his throat and calling out, "...Alright, both of you ready?"
With nods from both combatants, he declared, "Then fight!"
The man assumed a rough stance, looking rather unkempt to Raymond's discerning eyes. He shook his head at the man's lack of finesse.
Observing Raymond's relaxed posture, the man felt a surge of irritation, convinced the kid was mocking him.
He closed the distance between them swiftly, preparing to deliver a blow.
"...I'll go easy on you, brat," he sneered.
Raymond flashed a knowing smile, and as the man lunged forward to grab him, Raymond smoothly evaded his grasp.
The man's eyes widened in disbelief at the kid's agility.
"Consider this a favor from me..." Raymond's voice rang out moments before his fist connected with the man's chin, sending him crashing to the ground.
As the man's vision blurred and darkness crept in, he cursed under his breath.
"...Who calls this a fucking favor," he muttered.
---
Follow me on Twi-tter (X): @mythoast
Support me on Pa-treon: p@treon.com/mythoast
สถานะพลังงานรายสัปดาห์
-- การจัดอันดับด้วยพลัง 
-- หินพลัง