The midday sun beat down on the Dome of Survit B23, turning it into a giant blinding mirror. But the energy inside was more electric than ever.
It was the next day. The post-Kotobe era.
And the tournament atmosphere had radically changed. It was no longer just a competition. It had become a treasure hunt. A quest to unearth the next rough diamond, the next anomaly, the next boy with a broken face who would overturn the established order.
IN THE FESTIVAL AISLES
The Dome's outdoor area, closed the day before, had exploded into a frantic festival. Colorful stalls sold Class C Demolisher-shaped kebabs, "Ether Boost" lemonades, and pirate t-shirts with Kotobe's face, captured the moment he launched his "MEGA PUNCH," with the tagline: THE ADAPTER - BEAUTY IS IN EFFICIENCY.
Giant screens looped the tournament's key moments. And on all of them, one moment dominated: the close-up on Kotobe, standing in his Captain Man pose, followed by the slow-motion of the blow that sent Dante out of the arena. Analyst commentary played on repeat:
"— A demonstration of pure martial intelligence!"
— "He understood Flow by experiencing it!"
— "This kid just rewrote the improvisational combat manual!"
The mixed crowd milled about. Families with children awkwardly imitating the pose. Groups of trainee hunters passionately discussing the redirection technique. Old veterans nodding, looking both impressed and vaguely worried. The attention had shifted. People talked less about Grann, the perfect weapon. They whispered about Kotobe, the decoder. Where was he? How was he? His viral KO on the Nano-Neko app had already surpassed 5 million views in a few hours, accompanied by the hashtag #UnderdogWin.
Near a crêpe stand, two teenage girls were glued to their phones.
"Look, Maya! He gained more followers! 200k more since this morning!"
"I told you! It's his eyes. He looks so... focused. Not like those other show-offs."
"Do you think he has a Neko account?"
"I looked! There's a fake one called 'Kotobe_Officiel' but it posts cat memes. That's not him."
The buzz was palpable. The name "Kotobe" was on everyone's lips, spoken with a respectful curiosity that had replaced the snickers.
CANDIDATES' LOUNGE - MAIN CORRIDOR
Lola, the presenter, walked briskly, followed by a floating camera broadcasting live to the festival screens. Her smile was wider, more genuine than the day before. The underdog's victory was pure gold for the ratings.
"And here we are, live from the den of future heroes!" she announced into the mic, her voice tinged with contagious excitement. "The vibe is... electric! After yesterday's shocks, everyone's eyes are wide open!"
She headed towards a group of candidates warming up. Axel was lifting dumbbells so heavy the metal groaned. Lola approached cautiously.
"Axel! Impressive fight! A question from the fans: your analysis of the Kotobe vs. Dante match?"
Axel set the dumbbells down with a dull clang. He turned his scarred face toward the camera.
"The kid's got brains. And balls. Dante was playing prince. He was playing to survive. In the end, that's the only game that counts." He turned his back and resumed his training.
Lola, slightly taken aback, smiled nervously. "Uh... thanks, Axel! Always so direct!"
Further on, Lena, the scarred avenger, was adjusting her bandages. Lola rushed over.
"Lena! Your fans support you! A word before your fight?"
Lena looked up, her eyes a cold well. "Words didn't save my parents. Actions did." She walked away, leaving Lola standing there.
"Well... uh... focused!" the presenter stammered. She needed a friendlier face. She spotted Mika, the fearful one, sitting alone on a bench, trembling slightly.
"Mika! A word before your fight?"
Mika flinched like a rabbit in headlights. "I... I just want... not to disappoint those who believed in me." Her voice was a thread.
Lola felt the "candidate vibe" segment was a disaster. She had to regain control. She strode decisively towards the arena entrance, the camera on her heels.
"Let's go for a crazy day, folks! The first-round duels continue, and after yesterday, we know that absolutely anything can happen!"
MAIN ARENA - THE DAY'S FIRST FIGHTS
The roar of the crowd was different. More knowledgeable. More attentive. They scrutinized every candidate, searching for the spark, the detail that would betray the next Kotobe.
Starting with the match: ASH vs. BO
A duel of the silent ones. Ash, covered in soot, the embodiment of cold anger. Bo, the mute giant, who communicated only through his actions.
The fight was short, brutal, and telling.
Ash attacked with the fury of an inferno, his flaming blows seeking to consume. Bo endured, only parrying the most dangerous strikes with his rune-covered forearms, never retreating a step.
Ash, frustrated, channeled his anger into a breath of burning ash that obscured the air around Bo. When the smoke cleared, Bo was still standing, motionless. And on his slate, which he held in his hand, he had written:
YOUR ANGER WILL CONSUME YOU BEFORE ME.
Then, with a backhand from his shovel-sized palm, he struck Ash on the temple. A clean, precise blow. Ash collapsed. K.O.
Bo picked up his opponent and took the initiative to carry him to the infirmary.
The crowd, impressed by the giant's absolute calm, applauded respectfully. The contrast with Ash's fury was striking. A Neko vlogger titled it: SILENCE KNOCKS OUT LOUDER THAN SCREAMS.
SECOND MATCH - The screen lit up with the following names: LUNA vs. CLEO
The aristocrat of the day versus the huntress of the night. A duel of aesthetics.
Cleo fought with a golden Ether sword, precise, academic movements worthy of a noble duel manual. Luna, however, was a shadow. She used the weak spotlight beams to create illusions, seeming to be in multiple places at once, striking with silver Ether claws.
Luna was the one who won, trapping Cleo in a web of illusions that made her strike at empty air, before delivering a blow to the back of her neck. Tradition, that day, had bowed to cunning.
The fight was of a bloody speed, a palpable talent discernible in her.
The talent of a Myers Academy graduate.
THIRD MATCH - It erupted, one after another. TERRA vs. MIRA
The earth purifier versus the unifier. Terra fought anchored to the ground, projecting herself using the earth, creating pillars under her feet to propel herself and launch enormous projectiles.
Her opponent, for her part, seemed lost facing this destruction. She didn't know what to do anymore.
This firepower was out of her league.
So she played with words.
She dodged the blocks while talking to the audience. "DO YOU BELIEVE IN SOLIDARITY?"
The audience, caught in the heat of the action, shouted back, "YESSS..." It was sincere. Pure.
And her only escape route... she continued on her roll.
But why was she doing this?
"She wants to win a place in the audience's hearts," said Shadow-G in a dry voice.
He lit a cigarette. It was him, Shadow-G, the N°7 of Class S. He had been forced to make a good impression by attending the Acolytes tournament.
"Ahhh... what a pain in the ass, man. These kiddie fights are deadly boring," he muttered.
"This bitch knows she can't win, so she's using her smooth-talking skills to get the audience's attention."
"In this kind of tournament, it's not just brute force that wins, but how the public sees you. Those who come out of here won't all have the chance to go far in their hero careers. The Association will make sure they're marketable to the public."
"It's just a vicious business. And she knows how to play that factor."
Terra had had enough of Mira's pirouettes.
She descended from her pillar, sliding down its side.
"Miraaa..."
"Oh shit, the dense brute is approaching," thought Mira.
Terra was fast. Way too fast. As Mira tried to flee again, her arm was caught by a sand column created by Terra.
"— Look, dear audience... she's trying to me—"
"— Shut up."
Terra's voice had had more than enough.
And then no more words came from her mouth... An avalanche of blows came from all sides. Terra struck like an enraged gorilla.
Boom – a blow to the thigh.
Booom – another, stronger one to the sternum.
And another to the face. All at a crazy speed.
She screamed without restraint. Technique had disappeared. It was a descent into hell for Mira, but a joy for Terra that she manifested with these shouts.
"Bahbahbahabahbahbah..."
Blood sprayed everywhere. The referee had to stop the fight. Enough was enough.
Shadow-G, still in the stands, rolled his eyes, tossed his cigarette butt, and in the space of a fraction of a second, took another and lit it immediately.
After such a K.O., Lola had better lower the tension.
But on the fans' side, it was clear: Terra was the best. They had rejected Mira as quickly as they had embraced her.
The afternoon wore on. The atmosphere was good, but a sense of anticipation lingered. The fights were good, but after the Kotobe earthquake, they seemed almost... normal. The most anticipated fights – those involving the now-famous names – were scheduled for the following days.
Lola, on her podium, concluded the broadcast as the sun began to set.
"WHAT A DAY! Quiet strength with Bo, illusions, sociology! Every fight shows us a new facet of what it means to be a hunter! But don't forget... the real shock was yesterday! Catch all the info, exclusive analysis, and of course... the memes!"
She winked at the camera.
"Tomorrow, we begin the decisive matches of the end of the first round! And I can tell you... some of the most whispered names will be in action! See you tomorrow!"
As the crowd dispersed, discussing animatedly, the festival screens continued to flash. On the central screen, a loop still showed Kotobe's KO, his final blow, and the title:
ADAPTATION HAS A FACE. AND IT JUST WON.
In a private hospital within the complex, Kotobe, his arm and ribs undergoing accelerated regeneration, slept deeply. On the bedside table, his phone vibrated silently, flooded with Neko notifications: thousands of new followers, messages of support, interview requests.
He wouldn't see them until tomorrow. For now, he was perhaps dreaming of a vacant lot, a lost friend, and a promise kept.
The tournament had found its heart. And the audience now watched every fight with a new hope: that of discovering the next surprise.