As Azrael settled back into his hotel room after the previous evening's... recreational activities, his mind inevitably wandered to strategic possibilities he'd been considering. He'd been thinking about Robin's Hana-Hana no Mi, the flower-fruit that allowed her to bloom any part of her body anywhere she chose.
The tactical implications were fascinating, Azrael mused with scientific interest. The ability to generate additional limbs anywhere offered tremendous combat versatility and... other creative applications that a normal young man might naturally consider.
Unfortunately, his current financial constraints made such experimentation impossible. "Poverty truly is the enemy of innovation," Azrael muttered, dismissing the intriguing thoughts with reluctant pragmatism.
Turning his attention back to more immediate concerns, Azrael turned to the tournament broadcast screen. The quarterfinals were continuing, and he had to carefully analyze his potential opponents.
At present, Victor from Crossgill High School was facing Timmy from Riverock High School in a match that promised to be much more competitive than Victor's previous overwhelming victories.
Unlike the previous opponents who had crumbled under Victor's supernatural tiger, Timmy was clearly made of sterner stuff. His cards moved with coordinated precision, forcing Victor's ghostly predator to actually work for his dominance instead of simply steamrolling through ineffectual resistance.
"Finally," Azrael heard Victor declare from the floor of the arena, his voice carrying clearly over the public address system. A manic grin spread across the young man's features as he ran his fingers through his hair, slicking it back in an elaborate style that somehow seemed both ridiculous and menacing.
Azrael couldn't help but snort with amusement at the theatrical display. "What kind of hair gel is he using to achieve that effect?" he wondered aloud. "And where did he get those blue highlights? Are we about to hear him proclaim that from now on he will stand above the heavens?"
The reference to a certain infamous anime antagonist seemed almost too apt, given Victor's dramatic posturing and increasingly unhinged expression.
Timmy, of course unaware of Azrael's comment, simply frowned with growing concern as he studied his opponent's behavior. "What's this guy talking about?" he muttered, confusion evident in his voice. "Does he have more cards that we haven't seen?"
Timmy remained unaware of the previous conversation between Azrael and the Crossgill High School students, leaving him completely unprepared for what was about to unfold.
On the battlefield, Victor's Tiger Demon found himself increasingly besieged by Timmy's coordinated attack. Multiple cards working in tandem had managed to corner the supernatural predator, forcing it into true defensive maneuvers for the first time during the tournament.
But then everything changed.
Under the shocked gaze of every spectator, Victor stepped forward and stepped directly onto the battlefield himself.
The referee immediately blew his whistle to stop the match for a rules violation, but then paused as his earpiece crackled with instructions from the tournament officials.
"Let it continue," came the calm voice from the control booth. "The duel will proceed as normal."
Azrael's heart skipped a beat as a wild theory crystallized into certainty. "No way," he breathed, leaning forward with intense concentration. "It's really Victor."
The name suddenly made perfect sense, not just a label, but a literal description of the student's true nature and fighting style.
On the arena floor, Victor threw back his head and laughed with manic glee. Under Timmy's stunned gaze, shimmering armor materialized around the young man's entire frame, plates of metal flowing into place like liquid silver before solidifying into a protective shell.
A massive ringed blade condensed in his right hand, the weight of the weapon causing the arena floor to crack under the concentrated pressure.
"Holy shit!" The collective gasp from the student sections echoed throughout the arena as they witnessed something that defied their understanding of Lore Cardian combat.
However, the university representatives in their elevated viewing area maintained their composure with academic professionalism. This phenomenon wasn't entirely unprecedented, they had encountered similar cases before, though such tactics remained extremely rare due to the obvious dangers involved.
Several pairs of eyes turned to the Vaelcrest Mining Institute representative, seeking an explanation for this unprecedented display.
Since Victor had already agreed to join their institution the night before, the Vaelcrest representative felt comfortable sharing pertinent information. "Victor's family represents a traditional martial arts lineage," he explained with obvious satisfaction. "They have maintained their martial heritage for generations."
The simple statement explained everything the other representatives needed to understand. Victor wasn't just a Lore Cardian who happened to carry weapons, he was a true martial artist whose family had preserved actual fighting techniques through centuries of practice.
"No wonder he's willing to engage in personal combat," the Beijing University representative murmured with newfound respect. "But even for someone from a martial arts background, this level of direct confrontation is extraordinarily dangerous."
Even veteran Lore Cardians rarely chose to personally enter battlefield situations, preferring to maintain a safe distance while their summoned entities handled the actual fighting. The risk-reward calculations simply did not favor such exposure under normal circumstances.
Azrael watched the unfolding spectacle with genuine admiration mixed with strategic concern. "Impressive," he thought grimly. His suspicions about Victor's nature had been confirmed in the most dramatic way possible.
But the revelation also sparked Azrael's own tactical imagination. The reason most Lore Cardians avoided personal combat was not inherent cowardice, but the simple fact that conventional equipment cards weren't designed for direct user integration.
Azrael's situation was quite different. His knowledge of various fictional universes offered numerous alternatives designed specifically for symbiotic relationships with their wielders.
"Symbiotes would be perfect," Azrael mused, his mind racing through the possibilities. "Complete physical enhancement, automatic defensive responses, and seamless integration with the host's nervous system."
His imagination leapt to even more ambitious concepts: Armor Hero's Emperor Armor, Kamen Rider's Ohma Zi-O, or even Getter Robo's Crimson Spiral Rock. Each represented the pinnacle of human-machine fusion, granting god-like power to their chosen wielders.
Of course, such legendary artifacts would require materials and crafting skills far beyond his current capabilities. Even Hall of Fame-level Lore Cardians might struggle to create authentic versions of these ultimate powers.
"But I could start with scaled-down versions," Azrael reasoned, touching his chin thoughtfully. "Create youth variants with reduced capabilities, then upgrade them through progression paths as my abilities develop."
The strategy had proven successful with Mark 3, where he'd deliberately limited the armor's specifications to match his Bronze-level limitations while leaving room for future upgrades.
Azrael's motivation for pursuing this direction went beyond mere ambition. His infiltration of the Crimson Oath Society had created the awkward situation where his most powerful survival tool, the Mark 3, couldn't be used during his official student identity activities.
Having redundant life support options would provide crucial insurance against the various dangers he faced.
His mind briefly wandered to the Jackie Chan Adventures and the legendary talismans that had given the Dark Hand such terrifying power. The healing powers of the Horse Talisman or the immortality of the Dog Talisman would certainly solve his survival problems for good.
But these artifacts operated on a cosmic scale beyond even his wildest ambitions. Some powers were simply too vast for mortal comprehension, let alone replication.
Putting these grand fantasies aside, Azrael focused on the current battle as Victor's personal intervention completely reversed the tactical situation.
The massive, ringed sword dragged across the arena floor, sending up showers of sparks as the weight of the blade carved grooves into the reinforced concrete. As Victor brought the weapon around in a devastating horizontal arc, the impact created cobweb fractures that spread across half the battlefield.
"BOOM!"
Timmy stared at the destruction with undisguised horror. "No one told me I'd be fighting a complete lunatic!" he shouted, his voice cracking with stress.
His carefully coordinated map formation crumbled under Victor's relentless attack. The young martial artist moved with inhuman grace, his armor deflecting counterattacks while his blade sliced through supernatural defenses as if they were made of paper.
Timmy had tried to focus his remaining cards on eliminating Victor's tiger demon, reasoning that removing the beast would at least cut the pressure in half. The strategy had proven disastrously ineffective, the severed arm of one of his cards a vivid testament to the futility of ignoring Victor himself.
"Where did that monster come from?" Timmy gasped, dodging another earth-shattering sword strike. "If the Imperial Court still held martial arts exams, this freak would be the champion of this generation without a doubt!"
The sentiment echoed through the minds of every student observer. Facing Victor in single combat would be tantamount to suicide; most Lore Cardians couldn't survive three exchanges against someone of his caliber.
Azrael's assessment was more analytical, but just as grim. "The outcome is already decided," he observed calmly. "Timmy just doesn't have the tools to handle this situation."
Victor's martial arts mastery was truly terrifying. Combined with the enhancements provided by his equipment cards, his combat effectiveness far exceeded the normal parameters of the Bronze level. Had Azrael not known beforehand that Victor was a Lore Cardian, he might have mistaken the armored figure for a summoned being himself.
The fight ended with predictable swiftness, as Victor's overwhelming advantages proved insurmountable.
"Victor wins!" announced the referee, his voice slightly strained from witnessing such unprecedented violence.
Victor raised his weapon in triumph, basking in the mixture of awe and terror that emanated from the crowd.
In the stands, Azrael was already calculating strategies for their inevitable confrontation. "If I revealed all my publicly available cards, could I actually defeat him?" he wondered, running through various tactical scenarios.
The analysis was limited to the known assets of his student identity, Luffy, Yoriichi, Kaneki and now Nami. The cards of his Iron Man persona would remain permanently hidden to preserve his double agent status.
However, Azrael was not particularly bothered by this restriction. His current tournament performance had already guaranteed him admission to Pixar University on favorable terms. Future fights would be more about negotiating better treatment and scholarship packages than survival.
If defeating Victor required exposing Zoro or other hidden assets, Azrael would simply accept defeat rather than jeopardize his long-term security. The provincial championship was not worth destroying his carefully constructed cover identity.
His continued participation served several purposes beyond personal glory. Higher tournament rankings would improve his initial standing within the Pixar University hierarchy, allowing for greater access to resources and training opportunities.
Moreover, becoming Lucian's student was no guarantee of a comfortable academic experience. Even legendary masters expected their students to prove their worth through personal achievement, rather than simply coasting on inherited privilege.
For someone of Lucian's stature, the primary value he could offer Azrael lay in connections and access to resources. Certain rare materials or specialized knowledge might be completely unavailable through normal channels, but could be obtained through the Master's extensive network.
In addition, Azrael's tournament ranking would influence how aggressively the Crimson Oath Society invested in his development. A higher profile attracted more resources, but also increased scrutiny and expectations.
The delicate balance between these competing interests would determine how Azrael approached his upcoming semifinal match. Victory remained desirable, but not at the cost of revealing secrets that could undermine his long-term survival.
As the arena's maintenance crew began to repair the extensive damage from Victor's demonstration, Azrael settled back to watch the remaining quarterfinal matches. Each match would provide crucial information about potential opponents and their hidden abilities.
The tournament was entering its most dangerous phase, where a single mistake could undo months of careful preparation. Azrael intended to be ready for whatever challenges awaited him in the semi-finals and beyond.