Chapter Eighty-Five: The Battle Between Gifted Ones Is No Mere Performance

Chapter 85: "A Battle Between Espers Is No Performance"

The third round of the First Espers' Tournament's qualification matches began in earnest in the fourth division of the city of Polant, Trusfan Province. There were sixteen contestants in total, and Xia Zheng was among them. His opponent was Albert, a twenty-six-year-old man with a resounding nickname—“The Flashing Silver Fox.” In terms of reputation within the esper community, Xia Zheng was less well-known than his adversary.

Nalan Sheng explained the intelligence she had gathered to Xia Zheng, while Menghu massaged his shoulders and legs, helping him relax before the match. In a private locker room, after undergoing adjustments from the Foundation’s medical, psychological, and equipment teams, only his girlfriend Nalan Sheng and Menghu remained at his side.

“Does his nickname mean he’s exceptionally fast?” Xia Zheng asked, curiosity piqued.

Nalan Sheng nodded. “Not just fast—extremely fast. His ability is a rare type of enhancement, focused specifically on speed. It drastically increases his movement and attack speed; he can strike in the blink of an eye. He’s a seeded player in Group D. In the previous two rounds, his opponents didn’t even have time to react before being knocked out. In other words, he hasn’t really revealed his true power yet.”

Xia Zheng nodded as he realized that by the third round of qualifiers, there were no weaklings left.

“A speed-type opponent, huh?” Xia Zheng ran a simulation in his mind. His own psychic abilities could counter such speed-based foes, especially with his repulsion power. Alternatively, he could activate the “Water Shield” and “Flame Armor” for defense, or even go on the offensive with his “Divine Thunder.” However, casting Divine Thunder still required a full second—his opponent might be faster than that. A defensive counterattack seemed the wisest course.

With his strategy set, Xia Zheng studied the rest of the information on Albert. The reports described him as cautious and sly as a fox. If his initial strike failed, he would exploit his speed to prevent his opponent from counterattacking, waiting patiently for impatience or an opening before striking unexpectedly.

Albert was a B-class esper; his true combat power wasn’t overwhelming, but his speed led many to overestimate his offensive strength.

The gymnasium’s resting rooms were arranged in a U-shape. In one of them, on the opposite side from Xia Zheng, sat a man with short, white, curly hair and a pencil-thin mustache—The Flashing Silver Fox, Albert. He held Xia Zheng’s dossier in his hand.

“A super rookie... the fastest-rising new esper... a powerful psychic whose mental force can turn imagination into reality... attacks are varied and hard to defend against... rated Dragon-class by the Professional League... immense potential... tsk, tsk, such a lucky brat,” Albert muttered, deleting Xia Zheng’s file after reading it. He then rose and walked over to the room’s TV to watch the live broadcast. The first duel was underway in the center of the arena.

The two contestants were a young woman, about twenty, and an older man. Both were superhuman-type espers. As soon as the match began, the man transformed into a towering treant, ten meters tall. The woman became a rare giant tortoise, as large as two adult bulls, though her head remained human.

The treant charged the tortoise-woman, swinging massive fists encased in tough bark that looked as strong as iron. For many students, teachers, and security guards in the audience, this was their first time witnessing a live battle between espers—far more exhilarating than any effects-laden blockbuster, for this was real superpower at play.

The treant’s fist, accompanied by a gust of wind, slammed onto the tortoise’s shell, producing a thunderous impact. Sound waves rippled outward, but were quickly absorbed by the protective barrier.

Cries of alarm rose from the crowd, with many women and teachers covering their faces, unable to watch. Yet soon, the audience burst into cheers, for the tortoise-woman’s shell proved incredibly resilient; the treant’s onslaught barely staggered her.

Instead, the woman ducked her head, arched her back, and with a powerful surge, drove her shell into the treant’s legs, toppling the hulking figure to the ground. Applause thundered through the arena.

Emboldened by the crowd’s excitement—she had never before fought before thousands—the tortoise-woman pressed her advantage. She battered the treant repeatedly with her limbs and shell, forcing cries of pain from her opponent. The treant’s size, once an advantage, now proved a hindrance; he was too slow to respond or turn.

Angered at the beating, the treant suddenly opened his mouth and roared at his opponent. A visible shockwave struck the tortoise-woman, leaving her dazed and motionless atop his body.

Seizing the chance, the treant stood and grabbed the woman’s head, lifting her into the air while pounding her exposed abdomen with his other fist. Unlike her shell, her belly was vulnerable; soon, she coughed blood and was clearly injured.

The audience fell silent at the bloody spectacle, realizing that battles between espers were not performances but genuine, brutal combat. Of course, in the tournament, the Professional League generally forbade killing to avoid public outrage.

Yet this rule might be sorely tested in the anticipated showdown between Xia Zheng and Lyan—should they meet, it would be under exceptional circumstances.

Just as many believed the tortoise-woman was finished, she suddenly withdrew her head and limbs entirely into her shell, making her impossible to grip. Then she spun her body, transforming her shell into a whirring top that emitted a deep hum.

The treant found himself being shredded by the spinning shell; bark and branches flew as the tortoise’s rotation carved into him, eliciting screams of pain. He tried to retreat, but the spinning shell stuck to him like a shadow, giving him no respite. Blood began to flow freely from his wounds. Many spectators were so enthralled they forgot to breathe. Thankfully, the protective barrier kept them safe, though the savage nature of the fight unsettled the faint of heart. The Professional League had anticipated this, having partnered with local hospitals and clinics, and deployed on-site medical teams and a hundred first-aid trained volunteers.

With no escape, the treant was forced to surrender. The tortoise-woman withdrew, and both contestants returned to their starting positions. The giant screen flashed the result: Doris, the tortoise-woman, advanced, while Banno, the treant, was eliminated. The crowd rose to applaud, many thoroughly enjoying the match.

The League’s ability to organize the tournament owed much to a shift in the Federal Presidency’s policies. This was the eleventh year since the fall of Evernight City. For the past decade, the Federation had fostered a world almost devoid of espers.

Yet this policy had unforeseen consequences. The public’s fighting spirit eroded; talent flocked to wealth, fame, gossip, and excess. The Federation’s strategies to reclaim Evernight City were ignored by the populace, leaving only the military and espers to make sacrifices, largely unnoticed and unsupported, even facing discrimination from the business world.

Thus, to reignite the Federation’s fighting spirit, advance the Evernight City campaign, and elevate espers’ status, the Presidency decided to promote the Espers’ Tournament. In the future, the battle to reclaim Evernight City would be fully reported and broadcast, involving all citizens. Espers would lead the charge, but the entire Federation would play a supporting role.

Doris, the tortoise-woman, advanced to the fourth round of qualifiers, while Banno, the treant, was eliminated. The first duel lasted about twenty minutes, followed by a thirty-minute break to calm the audience’s nerves.

In his resting room, Albert yawned in boredom after seeing the results. He returned to his lounge chair, intending to nap; he was already familiar with the other contestants, whose strength matched that of the first two—hardly worth his attention.

Among the fourth division’s contenders, Albert considered only Xia Zheng a real threat.

Just then, his phone vibrated in his pocket, exciting him. He unlocked it and read the message: “Your account ending in 6857 has received a transfer of 1,000,000 Bonds. Current balance: 1,235,573.47.”

“Heh, who’d have thought one match would earn me more than a year’s work? I almost can’t bear to kill Xia Zheng—if only I had more clients like this, I’d only need to fight him over and over.”

He deleted the message, but soon after, an unknown caller rang.

“Received the money?” the voice asked.

“Yeah,” Albert replied curtly.

“Don’t forget our agreement. You’ve taken our money, so you’d better deliver—or prepare to collect your own corpse.”

Albert’s voice turned cold. “Are you threatening me?”

“That’s right. Xia Zheng is protected by influential backers—we can’t touch him directly, but you... you’re all alone, without anyone to lean on. So don’t try anything clever.” The caller was utterly indifferent to Albert’s feelings.

Suppressing his anger, Albert said, “Then I won’t work with you.”

“Too late. The moment you accepted the money, you had no choice. You’ll fight Xia Zheng to the death now, or you’ll end up dead anyway.” With that, the caller hung up.

Albert’s face went pale. In a fit of rage, he crushed his phone.

“Damn it! Those bastards—once I deal with Xia Zheng, I’ll come for you next...” Sleep eluded him. Restless, he began pacing the room.