THE ACOLYTES TOURNAMENT
City K was in a frenzy. Everywhere—on giant screens, in bars, in homes—it was all anyone could talk about. Predictions flew fast. The excitement was palpable for miles around.
In her room at the heart of the family estate, Pinky bounced in her gaming chair, eyes glued to the holovid. Mythic images flashed: a woman in pink armor vaporizing a Class A Demon with a beam of light.
— YES! Go, Mom! shouted Pinky, her fists clenched. I'm Pink Buster!
The door slid open silently. Nagato, her bodyguard, stood in the frame, impassive.
— Miss. Your father is waiting for you in the reception room. Immediately.
— Ugh. Again? I'm coming, I'm coming…, she grumbled, a real little brat.
Nagato didn't bat an eye.
The reception room was a monument of white marble and gold. Seated in a throne-like chair, a man wearing a slender crow-shaped mask slowly turned his head toward her.
— Come, my daughter. Don't just stand there. Sit by your old father.
— Yes… father, replied Pinky, her bravado gone, replaced by sudden shyness. She perched on the edge of the sofa beside him.
He continued, his voice as cold as the metal of his mask.
— You know what day it is, Pinky?
— It's… it's the day of the Acolyte Tournament.
— Exactly. Your chance to start as a rookie Hunter. Do you know which hero you want to be an acolyte for?
— Yes, I know, father, she said, regaining a bit of confidence. I want to be Mom's acolyte. I want to follow Pink Buster!
The silence that followed froze the air.
— You'd better forget that idea, said her father, each word falling like a sentence. Your mother's missions are too dangerous. She's in the top 10. You're not on that level.
— But father, I…
— There is no "but." Sebastian, call Nagato.
Almost before he finished the sentence, the house AI assistant transmitted the message. The door opened five seconds later. Nagato bowed.
— Yes, Sir.
— Take Pinky back to the Dome. Directly. No detours.
— Understood.
— Good… I hope I've made myself clear, concluded the man in the crow mask, his invisible gaze already returning to his holographic reports.
Pinky clenched her teeth, humiliated and furious. She followed Nagato to the garage where a black limousine with aggressive lines awaited them. Magnificent, and suffocating. She got into the back, her heart heavy.
The Dome was… immense. A colossus of steel and neon. As the limousine approached, its roof opened with a metallic groan, revealing the blinding lights of the arena and the roar of a delirious crowd.
Inside. Candidate Corridors.
The air smelled of sweat and fear. One stood there calmly, adjusting his gloves. Beside him, Kotobe, his face marked by an odd asymmetry, was holding his stomach.
— Damn… I think I'm gonna crap myself. I'm stressed to death.
— Don't worry, breathed One without looking at him.
— But… did you study? The anti-demon protocols? The weaknesses of Class C demons?
One looked at him, perplexed.
— Study? You had to study?
— Uh… Well, everyone knows… I mean… you know what? Never mind. We're gonna crush it.
A stir in the corridor. All eyes, and those of the flying cameras, turned to the entrance. Pinky walked in, head held high, ignoring the whispers. She passed the group.
— Move it, losers, she tossed out without even looking at them, before charging toward the arena entrance.
The Arena. General Bedlam.
The host, a woman in a sparkling suit, made her entrance amid jets of flame and epic music.
— HELLO, EVERYONE! WHEREVER YOU ARE, WELCOME! Because today, the ACOLYTE TOURNOOOMENT BEGINS! This 52nd edition will take place here, in the Survit anti-demon Dome B23 of City K! The old one had infiltration issues… anyway! Before we start, let's welcome our guest of honor who, for the VERY FIRST TIME, has agreed to take on an acolyte! The Symbol of Peace, I give you… CAPITAAAAAIN MAAAAAAN!
The crowd exploded. A father lifted his son onto his shoulders.
— Look, son! It's Captain Man!
— CAPTAIN MAAAN! AHHH! the crowd roared.
The hero entered with a casual stride, raising his arms. His platinum blonde hair shone under the spotlights. He took the mic, a slight smirk on his lips.
— Seriously? All this noise for me? he said, making the crowd roar even louder. Hello, everyone. Welcome. I, Captain Man, 5th in the world ranking, am proud to open this new edition. The heroes who will present themselves before you are young, talented. They come from the four corners of the globe. Some are unknowns who want to shine. Others have already started their careers in the shadows. Still others are graduates of the prestigious Myers School. They know the protocols by heart. Give them a warm welcome. Because they all share the same ideal: to protect humanity from Demons. Thank you.
The host took back the mic, vibrant.
— Thank you, Captain Man! And now, let's welcome our DEAR CANDIDATES!
The corridor doors opened. A flood of young people poured into the arena under cheers. One detail made the crowd laugh: Kotobe, with his misaligned jaw, advanced trying to look dignified. Mockery and insults rained down from the stands. He absorbed them, back straight, as if he'd endured worse.
Meanwhile, in the dark corridors of the Dome.
A young man with hair like burnished gold walked with a stride that was too casual. A guard in a suit stopped him, hand raised.
— Sir. Area closed. All candidates have entered.
— I am a candidate.
— The rules are strict. You cannot enter the arena now.
— Ugh, you're being such a drag… {Sublimation!!!}
Suddenly, the guard's hard gaze was clouded by a gleam of admiration. He gave the young man a pat on the shoulder.
— Good luck, kid. Survive, and win this tournament.
The young man nodded and passed, a faint smile on his lips. No sooner had he left than another candidate, hair disheveled, came running up.
— Hey! Where do you think you're going?!
— Excuse me, I'm a candidate, I have to compete!
— Rules are rules. It's closed.
— But… what about him, then? Where is he going?
— Him? Who?
— The blond guy, right behind you!
The guard turned his head, then looked back at the disheveled candidate, seeming genuinely perplexed.
— I don't know who you're talking about.
— Are you serious?! Let me through!
— No.
With a sharp movement, the guard grabbed the latecomer by the collar and literally threw him out, toward the stairs.
In the arena.
The host was about to announce the first names when a movement at the entrance cut her off. A newcomer was passing through the portal, into the spotlights.
A stunned silence swept through the stands.
— But… who is that? asked the commentator.
The crowd murmured. Then a shout rang out.
— Wait, yes! I know him! It's… GRANN!
— Grann? Oh yes! The prodigy! The one who got perfect scores at Myers! The one they say is a future Class S hero!
— That's him!
The ovation rose, irresistible, contagious. 60,000 people stood and began to chant, with a single thunderous voice:
— GRANN! GRANN! GRANN!
The young man, handsome as a statue, walked toward the center of the arena. He ignored the other candidates, raised his eyes to the stands on fire, and a wide, almost childlike smile lit up his face. He took an improvised mic offered by a flying camera, and his voice, clear and charged with an almost unsettling joy, resonated throughout the Dome.
— This tournament… is going to be extremely entertaining. Ahahah…
———
In a sober, dim VIP box, 16 people all wearing animal masks, the one with the Lion mask commented.
— Grann, he's an interesting candidate. He's a genius graduate from Myers School.
One of the members with a Monkey mask chimed in.
— Indeed, you're right. He was top of his class. He knows the ropes better than anyone. I'm placing all my hopes on him to win this tournament.
The one in the background with an Antelope mask took a champagne glass and approached the box's window.
— This Grann, I read in a report that he is capable of SUBLIMATING anything. Basically, manipulating his aether to render difficult or impossible things possible, like a miracle, turning everything to his advantage.
The one with the Bull mask began to shout.
— Friends, we must control him by any means necessary! He'll be a huge asset for the Hero Association!
EVERYONE agreed. But Crow…
This man in the crow mask remained silent. He was just thinking deep down that this tournament was worthless and that the real test was whether his daughter Pinky would be capable of winning it.
In order to become an ideal pawn.