[Name: Lyle Dross]
[Age: 21]
[Level: 25]
[Race: 33% Dracovores (Awakened)]
Lyle stood in the arena, hands clasped behind his back, glaring at Lucy with what seemed to be misplaced hostility.
Then, unexpectedly, he opened his mouth and spoke to the entire crowd in an arrogant tone.
"This whole thing is ridiculous," he declared. "What's the point of all this? Rookies fighting rookies? This should've been a training session. I want to fight a senior. Instead, I'm stuck in this circus. It's a waste of time."
The crowd froze. His tone carried no fear, no courtesy—just raw disdain.
Even Jack, who quietly complained about the sparring system before, kept it inside. But Lyle? He acted as if everyone present was beneath him.
Jack heard boos when he was at the platform, but this time, Lyle was making himself an enemy to all.
"Who does he think he is…?" Jack muttered, bewildered.
