The opening dance performance lasted for about twenty minutes.
Then all the body-painted women left the stage, and staff came to clean the arena. Tonight, the tournament officially began.
A host in a work uniform briefly introduced the event, followed by the referees. Then, the two competitors for the first match took the stage.
The two had vastly different physiques; the only thing they had in common was the masks on their faces.
One wore a mask resembling a broadly grinning monkey, while the other seemed to be some kind of feline.
"Are masks allowed during the match?" Lu Yuan asked Lin Zhiquin.
"Not allowed, they are mandatory..." Lin Zhiquin shook his head and said, "The tournament rules state that masks must be worn before going on stage, and they must be masks provided by the tournament organizers."
"So many rules." Lu Yuan couldn’t help but sigh. No wonder so few people have signed up to compete or watch.
Wearing masks could somewhat affect the fighters’ performance, so it was understandable why some chose not to participate.
At this point, the two fighters on stage began their match.
Punches and kicks were exchanged.
After a brief period of testing, the fight immediately escalated to a white-hot intensity, becoming extremely fierce.
Lu Yuan watched the fight for a while.
Although there were broadcasts on the giant screens around the venue, he was too far away to accurately judge the strength of the two competitors. Lin Zhiquin should be able to tell; his eyesight is much better than mine.
"These two aren’t as good as you; they’re around the amateur fourth or fifth rank. Before the semi-finals, it’s unlikely you’ll encounter any real masters. Even if you do, you can just concede. There are always the repechage matches anyway..."
Lu Yuan understood that Lin Zhiquin’s words were meant to reassure him.
After thinking for a moment, he said, "I read about the tournament online. It seems like you can win money even in the preliminaries, right?"
"Yes," Lin Zhiquin replied. "For valid battles, the winner gets five thousand in prize money, and the loser still gets two thousand."
"What do you mean by ’valid battles’?" Lu Yuan caught these words in Lin Zhiquin’s response and couldn’t help but ask.
Lin Zhiquin shook his head, then replied, "I’m not quite sure myself. But I heard the Mosa Religion has a unique judgment method. It’s related to their religious secrets. In this regard, many major tournaments can’t compare to them. Rigged matches are so common; no tournament can completely avoid them. But only those organized by the Mosa Religion have succeeded."
Unique judgment method... Valid battle... Lu Yuan mulled over these two phrases, finding the so-called Mosa Religion increasingly mysterious.
At this moment, the first fight on the arena had ended.
The winner was the one wearing the monkey mask.
The match was relatively harmonious overall. One fighter, knowing he was outmatched, conceded directly, and the other also stopped in time.
The referee came up, announced the result of the match, and then the next match began.
Lu Yuan saw the competitor who had just won the first match take off his mask after descending from the stage, revealing a gentle, scholarly face.
He was walking quickly toward the exit while on a phone call, looking as if he were in a hurry to get home and cook.
"If I agree to participate," Lu Yuan retracted his gaze and turned to Lin Zhiquin, "how much of the prize money from each match does the Coach plan to take?"
"The prize money you win, of course, all belongs to you."
"Huh?" Lu Yuan froze for a moment, and then his brow began to furrow. Lin Zhiquin had gone to such lengths to get him to participate in the tournament but didn’t want any of the prize money. This kind of "generosity" with no apparent benefits was hard to believe.
Perhaps noticing his concern, Lin Zhiquin smiled and explained, "I’ve already received a sum of money from the tournament organizers. Due to certain reasons, I signed a contract with them earlier. It requires me to bring people to compete in a specific number of matches. The penalty for breaching the contract is very high, so I really had no choice..." Follow current ɴᴏᴠᴇʟs on novel⟡fire.net
Is it really like that? Lu Yuan wasn’t entirely convinced. But he couldn’t find a strong basis for his doubts. So far, apart from the strange feeling the tournament itself gave him, everything else seemed quite normal. It was indeed as Lin Zhiquin had said: a very standard competition. He couldn’t find any fault with it.
"Actually, for you, this is also an excellent training opportunity," Lin Zhiquin said earnestly. "Your fundamentals are solid; what you need to work on next is your fighting style. The contestants in this ’Boiling Night’ fighting competition organized by the Mosa Religion aren’t particularly strong, and there isn’t a lot of messy, dirty business involved. It’s perfectly suitable for a Martial Arts novice like you to participate and enrich your combat experience..."
What Lin Zhiquin had said so earnestly was indeed the real reason Lu Yuan was tempted. There’s money to be made, real combat to practice, experience to gain, levels to grind... Even if some aspects of the tournament seemed odd, and Lin Zhiquin constantly gave him the feeling that he was hiding something... But then again, who in this world doesn’t have secrets? He himself also had a secret—the Professional Panel. He wasn’t the only potential contestant. Yang Jiandong had also fought under Lin Zhiquin’s guidance for a month and had emerged relatively unscathed. This slight sense of unease wasn’t enough to persuade him to refuse such an opportunity. At worst, he’d just fight for a month too.
However, Lu Yuan wasn’t in a hurry to commit, merely continuing to watch the matches on the arena.
Lin Zhiquin also wasn’t anxious. Instead, he dropped the subject and, using the detailed broadcasts on the big screen, began to explain the matches to Lu Yuan one by one.
As a professional-grade Martial Artist, Lin Zhiquin’s qualities as a Martial Arts Coach were truly on display at this moment.
The fighting styles and techniques used by the combatants in the arena—many of which Lu Yuan hadn’t initially discerned. But with Lin Zhiquin’s brief explanations, he instantly had an epiphany. So that’s how it is!
After watching a few matches, Lu Yuan felt he had learned a great deal about real combat, as if a great door had been opened before him.
Thinking back to his previous fights, whether in reality or against Imaginary Enemies in his Consciousness Space, he instantly felt they were nothing more than aimless and unmethodical "street brawler brawls." Numerous ideas and thoughts sprang to mind, making his hands itch with the urge to immediately enter his Consciousness Space and test them out on the middle-aged man in the Rain Alley.
When it came to the seventh match, Lu Yuan opened the Professional Panel and was surprised to find that his Fighter class experience had actually increased by over thirty points.
"Good heavens, that’s comparable to the gains from fighting a newly ranked Martial Artist! Is this what they call ’a word from a wise person is worth more than ten fights’?" Lu Yuan felt a secret delight, and even Lin Zhiquin, who had previously rubbed him the wrong way, seemed somewhat more agreeable now.
Suddenly, a shout from the distant arena made Lu Yuan look up.
It was the seventh match, which apparently had just ended.
The winner, a man wearing a gorilla mask, didn’t leave the stage immediately after the fight. Instead, he suddenly howled and half-knelt on the ground.
He leaned back, face towards the sky, and violently tore open his clothes. Then, his hands clawed frantically at his exposed chest, quickly turning it into a bloody mess.
During this process, his entire body trembled as if he were having a seizure, and he repeatedly chanted several strange syllables, "%&*#....."
Lu Yuan saw that the referee on stage showed no reaction, merely watching the man quietly.
"What is he doing?" Lu Yuan asked in astonishment and confusion, instinctively turning to Lin Zhiquin beside him.
Lin Zhiquin, however, appeared quite calm.
"A loyal Mosa Believer," Lin Zhiquin said. "He’s calling out the name of the Mosa Religion’s God of Mosa Martial Combat. This could be considered a unique form of worship for Mosa Believers..."
"You mean that Goat Head Statue?" Lu Yuan noticed that the man on the arena, facing the sky, was actually looking at the huge Goat Head Statue hanging at the very top of the stadium. He thought he saw a red light flash from the hollow eye sockets of the Goat Head Statue.
"Yes. The Mosa Religion’s scriptures state that their God of Mosa Martial Combat has a goat’s head and a human body, holding a knife in the left hand and a spear in the right. Legend says this God of Mosa Martial Combat can grant believers an unyielding fighting spirit and an indestructible physique in battle..."
Lin Zhiquin continued, "After all, this is a competition with a Mosa Religion background, so it’s quite normal for Mosa Believers to participate. You might encounter them in the future too..."
Lin Zhiquin had initially claimed he didn’t know much about the Mosa Religion, but his current demeanor suggested otherwise.
Lu Yuan didn’t ask further, merely nodding to indicate he had taken note.