Jackson Raines’s palms ignited.

  He was God-Chosen too.

  Fire Domain, Sequence 010 — Trueflame Detonation.

  He could compress flame in his hands and detonate it—an instant blast wave of violent fire pressure.

  For Jackson, winning was simple. Close the distance, blow it up in Ethan’s face, and send him flying.

  “Relax,” Jackson said with a grin. “We’ve got plenty of time.”

  He lowered his center of gravity, both palms angled behind him.

  BOOM—!

  Twin bursts exploded from his hands like rocket thrusters, hurling him forward with brutal acceleration.

  In the time it took to blink, he was already in Ethan’s face.

  “Too fast!”

  “Can anyone even react to that?!”

  “He’s not holding back at all!”

  The crowd held their breath. Nobody blinked.

  “End of the line, rookie.”

  Jackson drove a punch straight toward Ethan’s face, the smile of a winner already curling at his lips.

  Whether the punch landed didn’t even matter.

  Once the detonation went off, the firestorm would swallow Ethan whole—there was nowhere to dodge at point-blank range.

  BOOOOM—!!

  A deafening explosion erupted between them. A violent fire cyclone rolled outward, engulfing both fighters.

  “He didn’t dodge—he’s done!”

  “Close-range trades are Jackson’s specialty. That ability is straight-up unfair!”

  The firestorm thinned…

  And the arena went dead silent.

  Ethan was still standing in the exact same spot.

  Not a scratch on him.

  Jackson’s fist was buried in a blood-red wall—perfectly blocked.

  Jackson stared, pupils shaking.

  Fire Domain Sequences were all about destruction. His high-sequence ability had been a “one punch ends it” tool for months. Demons, monsters—he’d blown them apart so completely there wasn’t even debris left.

  This was the first time it did nothing.

  Ethan’s eyes didn’t even change.

  With a thought, the blood wall reshaped—

  into chains.

  They snapped around Jackson’s right arm and yanked it up, suspending it in the air.

  Ethan lifted his blade.

  Quickdraw Form: Wyrm From the Deep.

  A crimson slash surged like a blood-dragon tearing through rock—

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  CRACK!

  Jackson’s right hand hit the ground.

  The stands exploded into screams.

  People stared, mouths open, brains lagging behind what they’d just watched. Nobody expected the outcome to be decided this fast.

  Aimee’s silver-haired avatar appeared as referee, voice flat.

  “Match decided. Point made. Ethan Parker wins.”

  Jackson clutched the stump, face warped with shock.

  A severed hand could be reattached in med bay.

  But his pride?

  His ego?

  That had just been ground into dust.

  Ethan almost found it funny.

  Slaughter Domain was built for real combat. It existed to kill.

  And Blood Sovereign—blood that could freely shape into weapons, barriers, chains—was basically the perfect “fight to win” Sequence.

  Jackson had the realm advantage and still might’ve lasted longer… but he chose to suppress his energy down a realm to “prove” he could win.

  That wasn’t confidence.

  That was asking to be humiliated.

  The crowd snapped back to life.

  “Wait—Ethan just won?!”

  “I swear I blinked and it was over!”

  “Jackson lost in real combat too… no way.”

  “BOSS ETHAN!!”

  Down in the stands, Nora Paige clapped so hard her palms turned red, face lit up like she’d won something personally.

  Megan Hayes finally exhaled—relieved. She’d been more nervous than she admitted.

  I underestimated him again, she thought.

  Genius is just the entry ticket to stand near him.

  Not everyone was happy.

  Janelle Song watched Ethan get praised and nearly cracked a tooth from grinding.

  She’d gone through all that trouble—stirring the forum, setting the stage—just to “get her payback.”

  Instead, she’d handed Ethan a spotlight and front-row applause.

  She turned to leave—

  and Tessa Blake called out sweetly behind her.

  “Leaving already? Didn’t you two wager 100 contribution points? Who’s paying—him or you?” Tessa smiled. “Don’t tell me you’re gonna try to dodge, hmm?”

  Janelle’s face twitched.

  “…I’ll pay!”

  A hundred points hurt like ripping off skin. That was so many missions.

  Once the transfer hit, Tessa waved cheerfully and let her go.

  Tessa didn’t actually need the points—nepo perks meant she wasn’t hurting for resources—but she didn’t keep a single one anyway. She transferred all fifty she’d gained straight to Ethan.

  “Ethan,” she said, grinning, “when you get back, you’re buying dinner.”

  Ethan nodded. “Deal.”

  Then—

  The countdown hit zero.

  Text appeared in the air in front of Ethan’s vision. Whoever issued these missions—god, world rule, higher-dimensional bastard—was finally cashing in.

  [Accept “Survival Mission” and teleport now?]

  Ethan didn’t hesitate.

  “Yes.”

  In the blink of an eye, he vanished.

  The arena went quiet like someone muted the world.

  “…What the hell?”

  “Where’d he go? He was right there—!”

  “Wait—holy shit… he said he was entering the Reverse World—”

  People finally connected it.

  “He went. He actually went!”

  “It’s exactly ten o’clock! That’s why he demanded two minutes early!”

  “Two minutes early… just to beat Jackson’s ass and then get teleported—are you kidding me?”

  “Shouldn’t you prepare like crazy before going somewhere that dangerous? Why did he look so relaxed?!”

  Jackson stared at the empty arena floor and got hit again.

  So Ethan wasn’t making excuses.

  He was telling the truth.

  Which meant—Ethan really didn’t take him seriously.

  “Fuck…”

  Someone tried to comfort Jackson. “Jackson, we know you held back. You suppressed your realm. Next time don’t underestimate him.”

  Jackson stood there with one hand missing, jaw clenched.

  Yeah—he’d “held back.”

  And got carved up anyway.

  …

  Up in the mentor office, they’d watched it all.

  Ethan won—but Caleb Shaw still looked grim.

  One mentor laughed. “Caleb, relax. First Reverse World mission always drops you into the easiest layer. With Ethan’s combat output, surviving will be a joke.”

  Caleb nodded once, then said quietly, “Surviving is easy… if he wants to only survive.”

  The room paused.

  “You mean…?”

  “Killing demons accelerates growth,” Caleb said. “And with Ethan’s personality… he might go hunting instead of hiding.”

  …

  [Current Ladder Points: 1000 — Entering Reverse World: EASY Layer]

  [Current Mission: Survive 8 hours]

  Ethan’s eyes snapped open and swept his surroundings.

  A sealed room. A dim yellow ceiling lamp. One round table—the only furniture. And he was sitting at it.

  One by one, other people teleported in, taking seats around the table.

  Not just locals—there were foreigners too. Ethan immediately put in the translation earpiece.

  “If I’m guessing right, this is the safe house.”

  “What’s everyone’s Ladder Points?”

  “Five hundred. First mission—I've refused every time until now, haha.”

  “Same. I was too scared. Got docked to three hundred before I finally came.”

  “Good. If we’re all rookies, I feel better.”

  Soon, the full batch arrived.

  Aimee’s system text appeared:

  [Safe House expires in: 30 minutes]

  [Current survivors: 10]

  Once the safe house expired, staying inside meant monsters would start attacking.

  People started talking strategies, voices overlapping.

  Then Ethan spoke—calm, almost casual.

  “You guys notice a problem?”

  “Huh? What problem?”

  Ethan tilted his head slightly. “It says current survivors: ten.”

  He looked around the table.

  “So… how many people are sitting here?”

  Everyone counted.

  “…Eleven.”

  “No way. Eleven?!”