He began looking for characters again.
The list refreshed in real ti, nas and ranks flickering as other players queued in and out. He scanned the entries out of habit — checking rank, win-loss record, the avatar class. Nothing stood out imdiately. Most were either too high above him or obviously farming easy wins further down the bracket.
Then a request appeared.
He paused.
The person was C-rank, with a record of 10 wins and 6 losses.
Do I really want to fight this person? he wondered.
It wasn’t that the stats were bad. Ten wins was decent. But the six losses gave him pause — not because losing was shaful, but because it told him sothing about how this person fought. Aggressive, probably. The kind of player who pushed hard and sotis overextended. That could go either way.
He had been the one sending the request to people, but this ti — soone had sent one to him. That was rare. He was usually the one challenging others.
So he decided to accept it.
The na wasn’t anything amazing.
Coolbot. Whatever kind of na was that? It sounded stupid.
Jelo stared at it for a second longer than necessary. He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting — sothing intimidating, maybe, or at least sothing that suggested the person had put thought into it. Coolbot sounded like a userna generated at random and then never changed.
Okay... at least I should be able to earn 20 essence from this one, Jelo thought as he accepted the fight.
Imdiately, he was transported to the ring — a wide arena where he t Coolbot.
They spoke briefly.
Coolbot told him that in his last fight, he hadn’t actually been defeated — he had quit after realizing his opponent was weak. He said it casually, like it was sothing worth ntioning, like it explained the loss on his record without quite erasing it. Jelo noted the distinction. A person who quits rather than wastes ti is either very confident or very selective. Maybe both.
That made Jelo even more interested.
"No need to waste too much ti," Jelo said. "Let us begin the fight, shall we?"
Coolbot rolled his neck slowly, a faint blue shimr pulsing around his body — his Delay Field, already active. Breathing steady. Waiting.
Jelo crouched low, fingers curling. His eyes shifted — irises bleeding into a sharp, reptilian gold as his enhanced vision locked in. He could see the micro-distortions in the air. The way light bent just slightly wrong around Coolbot.
He’s not just a gimmick, Jelo thought. That field is already on.
Coolbot tilted his head. "Whenever you’re ready."
Jelo launched.
Wing Burst — he vanished in a blur, closing the gap in under a heartbeat. His fist hamred into Coolbot’s jaw with bone-cracking force—
—and Coolbot didn’t move.
Not a flinch. Not a stumble. He just stood there, looking almost bored.
Jelo landed behind him, spinning into a combat stance. What—
Then, three seconds later, Coolbot’s head snapped violently to the side. His whole body rocked. He staggered two full steps before catching himself on one knee, spitting onto the ground.
The delayed force of the punch had arrived.
Coolbot wiped his mouth, breathing through it. Calibrating.
Jelo’s gold eyes narrowed. It doesn’t stop the damage. It just holds it.
He Wing Bursted again — a flurry this ti. Left ribs. Right shoulder. A heel kick to the back of the knee. Each blow landed clean. Each ti — nothing. Coolbot stood through every hit like a statue, banking them.
Jelo stepped back, already breathing harder. He’s stacking them.
Coolbot exhaled slowly.
And all five delayed impacts detonated through his body in sequence.
CRACK — ribs flexed. THUD — shoulder wrenched. SNAP — his knee buckled completely and he went down hard, one hand catching concrete. He growled through gritted teeth, face twisted in genuine pain.
But he got up.
"Five at once," Coolbot said, voice ragged. "That’s my ceiling. Good to know yours is higher."
Jelo raised his right hand. Energy bled from his fingertips — amber and violent — curling into the shape of a dragon’s claw.
He thrust forward.
Dragon Claw.
The projection scread across the distance, razor-edged. The kind of strike that carved through steel.
Coolbot didn’t dodge.
The claw hit him dead in the chest — and shimred. Froze. Hovered there embedded in the field like a fly in amber for exactly three seconds—
Then detonated.
The force hurled Coolbot backward. He slamd hard into sothing behind him, the impact sound arriving half a second late — an eerie, wrong silence, then BANG.
He slid down, breathing ragged.
Jelo was already charging — Wing Burst — fist cocked for a follow-up—
Coolbot shot his hand up.
And delayed his own knockback.
Jelo’s fist connected with what felt like a brick wall. Coolbot hadn’t moved from the Dragon Claw impact at all — his body had delayed the physics of being thrown. He was still upright. Still dense. Still here.
Coolbot grabbed Jelo’s wrist mid-strike and yanked him forward, driving an elbow hard into Jelo’s collarbone.
Jelo felt it two seconds later — already skidding backward across the ground when the delayed shock of pain hit and dropped him to one knee mid-slide.
He can delay his own incoming force AND mine. Jelo pressed a hand down, steadying himself. Every attack I throw is a trap.
Jelo went still.
Unusual for him. Coolbot watched carefully, the blue shimr pulsing steadily.
He’s thinking, Coolbot realized. That’s the dangerous part.
Jelo’s enhanced vision was tracking the field. The shimr had a rhythm — faint, almost imperceptible. A pulse tied to Coolbot’s breathing. Not constant. It breathed.
Jelo fired a Dragon Claw — deliberately slow. Aid carefully.
Coolbot delayed it. Three-second window, waiting for it to pass—
Jelo Wing Bursted around the side and hit Coolbot from behind in the sa window — arriving at his spine at the exact mont the Dragon Claw’s delay expired on his chest.
Two simultaneous inputs. The field scread.
Dragon Claw detonated through his front. The heel kick hamred his back. Coolbot’s body couldn’t process both directional forces at once. He was twisted violently sideways and hit the ground face-first with a sound like a car accident — the delayed echo arriving a full second later, a horrible double-boom.
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