The Arena's conference room was nothing like Ah You expected.
He'd imagined something gritty and industrial, matching the warehouse aesthetic. Instead, it was sleek and modern – polished wood table, leather chairs, screens on the walls displaying Arena statistics and fighter rankings.
Ten people sat around the table. Ah You recognized some of them:
Kenneth at the head, looking neutral but alert.
Marcus and Aisha representing the Independent Fighters Coalition.
An elderly Chinese woman in traditional dress – someone whispered she was Madam Feng, a Level 32 esper who'd been fighting since the 1980s.
And three members of the Ong family.
Raymond's father, David Ong, sat at the opposite end from Kenneth. Late forties, graying at the temples, wearing a suit that probably cost more than Ah You's entire apartment. His presence was heavy, oppressive. The system wasn't giving Ah You a threat assessment, but he didn't need one.
[WARNING: Multiple high-level espers detected]
[Recommended action: Observe, do not provoke]
Next to David sat Raymond's uncle, Michael Ong, who looked like an older, harder version of Raymond. Fire esper abilities apparently ran in the family – Ah You could see faint heat shimmer around Michael's hands even in the air-conditioned room.
The third Ong family member was a woman in her thirties, Victoria Ong. She had a tablet and was taking notes with the efficiency of someone used to running operations.
Linda sat in a corner observer seat, not at the main table. She'd explained on the drive over that only board members could vote, but interested parties could attend.
Ah You sat next to her, trying to look calm while his heart hammered.
Kenneth called the meeting to order at exactly 8 PM.
"We're here to discuss proposed regulation changes submitted by the Ong family. David, you have the floor."
David Ong stood smoothly. "Thank you, Kenneth. I'll be direct. Recent events have highlighted safety concerns regarding rookie fighter advancement."
He clicked a remote and statistics appeared on the screens.
"In the past year, we've seen a 40% increase in serious injuries during rookie matches. Fighters being pushed into combat before they're ready. The Arena's reputation depends on fair, safe competition. We need minimum standards."
Graphs showed injury rates, fighter levels, match outcomes. It looked professional, well-researched.
"I'm proposing three changes," David continued. "First, minimum Level 5 requirement for ranked Arena matches. Rookies below that level can only participate in training bouts."
Marcus spoke up immediately. "That's ridiculous. Half the current fighters started competing at Level 3 or lower. Including several people in this room."
"Twenty years ago, perhaps," David said smoothly. "The Arena has evolved. The skill ceiling has risen. We're protecting rookies from being exploited."
"Or you're protecting established fighters from new competition," Aisha shot back.
Kenneth held up a hand. "Let's hear all three proposals before debate. David?"
"Second proposal: ability type restrictions. Certain power types are inherently unsuited for Arena combat – support abilities, purely defensive types, sensory powers. Fighters with these abilities should be prohibited from ranked matches."
Ah You's stomach dropped. That was aimed directly at him.
"Third proposal: family sponsorship requirements. Rookie fighters must have a verified mentor or family member vouching for their training before competing. This ensures proper preparation and reduces injury risk."
Meaning: you needed connections. Established family backing. Exactly what Ah You didn't have.
David sat down, looking satisfied.
The room erupted in arguments.
"This is blatant gatekeeping—"
"Safety standards are reasonable—"
"You're trying to keep independents out—"
Kenneth let it run for thirty seconds, then banged his gavel. "Order. Marcus, you wanted to respond?"
Marcus stood, and Ah You was struck by how different his presence was from David's polished corporate energy. Marcus looked like a fighter – scarred, rough, real.
"Everything David just proposed is designed to exclude one specific fighter. Li Ah You." He pointed at Ah You. "Level 3, Nature-type ability, no family backing. These rules target him personally because Raymond lost to him and the family can't handle the embarrassment."
"That's not—" Victoria Ong started.
"It absolutely is," Marcus cut her off. "You want minimum Level 5? Ah You just beat a Level 5 fighter in a challenge match two hours ago. Clean win, witnesses, recorded. He's proven he can compete at that level."
Murmurs around the table. Several board members looked impressed.
"You want to exclude support-type abilities?" Marcus continued. "Nature abilities aren't support. They're tactical. Environmental control. Ah You's fighting style is more creative than half the fire-slingers and earth-movers we see every week."
Michael Ong finally spoke, his voice gravelly. "One win doesn't prove consistent ability. The boy got lucky twice. Against my nephew, against Sarah. Luck runs out."
"Then let him keep fighting," Aisha said. "If he's truly unqualified, he'll lose and remove himself naturally. Why do we need new rules?"
"Because the Arena has standards," David Ong replied. "We're not a circus for untrained children to play in dangerous games."
"I'm nineteen," Ah You heard himself say.
Everyone turned to look at him.
Linda tensed beside him, but it was too late to take it back.
"I'm nineteen," Ah You repeated, standing up. "Not a child. And I didn't 'play' in my matches. I studied my opponents, trained with Zara, developed strategy, and executed it. That's what fighters do."
David Ong's expression was cold. "And what happens when you face a truly skilled opponent? When your parlor tricks don't work and you get seriously hurt? The Arena becomes liable. That's what we're preventing."
"Then test me," Ah You said.
The room went silent.
"What?" Kenneth leaned forward, interested.
"You're worried I'm not skilled enough. Fine. Test me. Put me against someone the board thinks represents the 'standard' for Arena fighters. If I lose badly, I'll accept whatever restrictions you want. If I win or put up a real fight, the proposals get dropped."
[QUEST TRIGGERED: Trial by Combat]
[Description: You've challenged the board to prove your worth. Win and shut down the Ong family's political maneuvering. Lose and face severe restrictions.]
[Warning: This is extremely risky. The opponent chosen will not be easy.]
[Reward: Political victory, major reputation boost, +300 EXP]
[Failure: Restricted from Arena competition, loss of credibility]
David Ong smiled, and it wasn't friendly. "You want a test? Fine. But not against some random Level 5. If you're going to prove you belong here, prove it against real competition."
"Who did you have in mind?" Kenneth asked carefully.
"Jason Tan. Level 8. Lightning ability. He's been fighting in the Arena for three years, solid mid-tier competitor. Good enough to represent our standards."
Marcus swore under his breath. "That's not a test, that's an execution."
"It's what the boy asked for," Michael Ong said. "A real test. Unless he wants to withdraw his challenge?"
All eyes on Ah You.
He'd stepped in it now. Challenging a Level 8 when he was Level 4 was suicide. The level gap was huge – probably 20+ stat points across the board, more abilities, way more experience.
But backing down now meant accepting the Ong family's rules. Meant being forced out of the Arena or at minimum heavily restricted.
And something in him – pride, stubbornness, maybe just anger at being pushed around his whole life – refused to surrender.
"I accept," Ah You said. "When?"
David Ong's smile widened. "Tonight. Right now. We're all here, we have witnesses. Let's settle this."
"That's not proper procedure—" Aisha started.
"The boy agreed," Victoria Ong interrupted. "Unless he's getting cold feet?"
Kenneth looked at Ah You. "You don't have to do this. We can table the vote, discuss alternatives—"
"No," Ah You said. "Let's do it now."
Linda grabbed his arm as he turned to leave the conference room. "Are you insane? Level 8? You'll get destroyed."
"Probably. But at least I'll go down fighting." He pulled free gently. "Besides, I've got a plan."
"What plan?"
"I'll figure it out in the next ten minutes."
He walked toward the Arena floor, trying to project confidence he absolutely didn't feel.
[MP: 65/65 - Fully Recovered]
[HP: 140/140]
[Current Level: 4]
[Opponent: Jason Tan - Level 8 - Lightning Manipulation]
[Probability of Victory: 8%]
[May the odds be ever in your favor... but they're really not.]
The system had jokes now. Great.
---
Word spread through the Arena faster than lightning.
Within five minutes, the entire building knew: the rookie plant user was fighting Jason Tan. Level 4 versus Level 8.
The bleachers filled completely. Fighters stopped training to watch. This was either going to be an upset for the history books or a brutal lesson in knowing your limits.
Ah You stood in his corner of the cage, trying to calm his racing heart.
Jason Tan entered from the opposite side.
He was Chinese-Malaysian, late twenties, lean and wiry with nervous energy. Even standing still, small sparks of electricity crackled around his hands. His eyes were sharp, assessing Ah You with professional interest.
"Nothing personal, kid," Jason called across the cage. "But I'm getting paid good money to make this quick and painful."
"The Ong family paying you?"
"Let's just say my next three months' rent is covered if I put on a good show." Jason rolled his shoulders, stretching. "You seem like a decent fighter from what I heard. Sorry it has to be like this."
At least he was honest about it.
Kenneth entered the cage as referee. "Standard rules. This is a demonstration match, not a death fight. I'm watching carefully. Everyone clear?"
Both fighters nodded.
Zara appeared at the cage fence. "Ah You! You crazy bastard! What's your plan?"
"Win or die trying?"
"That's not a plan, that's a suicide note!" But she was grinning despite the worry in her eyes. "Alright. Lightning users are fast and hit hard. Ranged attacks. You can't let him control distance. Get close or get creative. Preferably both."
"Thanks for the pep talk."
"Don't die. I'd feel bad about wasting all that training time."
Kenneth raised his hand. "Fighters ready?"
Ah You took a deep breath. His Nature Sense was already active, cataloging every plant in and around the Arena. Not much in the cage itself, but outside, around the edges, in the training areas – plenty of vegetation.
Jason's hands crackled with increasing voltage.
"Begin!"
Jason moved first.
A bolt of lightning shot across the cage – not at Ah You directly, but at the metal fence behind him. The electricity arced from the fence toward Ah You's position.
Ah You dove right, rolling, the lightning missing him by inches. The concrete where he'd stood was scorched black.
Jason was already moving, circling, firing lightning bolts in rapid succession. Not trying to hit Ah You directly yet – controlling the space, limiting movement options.
Smart. Experienced fighter tactics.
Ah You needed to change the battlefield.
He pulled out seeds from his pockets – he'd restocked after the Sarah fight – and scattered them across the cage floor while dodging lightning strikes.
GROW. RAPID. EVERYWHERE.
Plants erupted from the seeds. Thick grass, climbing vines, broad-leafed bushes. In seconds, the cage floor was covered in greenery.
Jason paused, assessing the change.
Then he grinned and unleashed a massive electrical discharge into the metal cage fence.
The electricity conducted through the fence, through the moisture in the air, and into all the plant life Ah You had just grown.
The plants ignited from the electrical overload.
Smoke filled the cage. The smell of burning vegetation was overwhelming.
[MP: 52/65]
"Rookie mistake," Jason called through the smoke. "Plants conduct electricity. You just gave me more targets."
Ah You coughed, eyes watering. Jason was right – he'd made it worse.
No. Wait.
Plants conducted electricity. That was the point.
Ah You focused his Nature Sense on the charred, smoking plants. They weren't completely dead – damaged, but still alive at the root level.
And they'd absorbed massive amounts of electrical energy.
Could he... redirect that?
It was insane. He'd never tried anything like it. But he was losing anyway, so why not?
Ah You pressed his hands to the smoking ground and concentrated.
Plants. You absorbed lightning. Give it back. Through the roots. Into the ground. Under his feet.
The plants responded sluggishly – they were damaged, dying, not happy about being used as electrical conduits.
But they responded.
The absorbed electricity flowed through their root systems into the concrete, traveling underground toward Jason's position.
Jason was still moving, looking for a clear shot through the smoke.
He didn't notice the ground beneath him starting to glow faintly.
Ah You released the stored electrical energy all at once.
Lightning erupted from the ground directly under Jason's feet.
Jason screamed, his own element used against him, conducted through the earth he was standing on.
He collapsed, muscles spasming from the shock.
The crowd went absolutely insane.
"WHAT?!" someone yelled.
"Did he just conduct electricity through plant roots?!"
"That's not how Nature abilities work!"
Kenneth was staring, stunned.
Jason was down but not out. He pushed himself up shakily, smoke rising from his clothes.
"That was... that was brilliant," he gasped. "And really painful. Okay. No more holding back."
Jason's entire body began glowing with electrical energy. His hair stood on end. The air around him ionized, crackling with power.
[WARNING: Opponent entering enhanced state]
[Power output increased significantly]
This was it. Jason's finishing move.
Ah You had one shot.
He focused on the plants outside the cage – the decorative bushes, the training area vegetation, everything within his 20-meter range.
And he pulled.
GROW. THROUGH THE FENCE. INTO THE CAGE. SURROUND HIM. NOW.
Vines from outside the cage began forcing through the chain-link openings. Roots broke through the concrete floor. Plants grew with desperate, explosive speed, consuming the last of Ah You's MP.
[MP: 8/65]
The vegetation converged on Jason from all directions.
Jason unleashed his lightning in a full 360-degree blast – a dome of pure electrical energy that incinerated everything within three meters.
All the plants Ah You had grown turned to ash instantly.
But Ah You wasn't in the blast radius.
He'd used the plant growth as a distraction while he circled around to Jason's blind spot, staying low, moving during the chaos.
Now he was behind Jason, and there was one plant left that hadn't been destroyed.
A simple vine growing up the cage fence, unnoticed in the spectacle.
Ah You grabbed it and directed all his remaining willpower into one command.
GROW. WRAP. CONSTRICT. AROUND HIS NECK.
The vine shot forward, wrapping around Jason's throat from behind.
Jason tried to electrify it, but he'd just burned through his power with that massive discharge. He was drained, same as Ah You.
The vine tightened.
Not enough to choke – Ah You wasn't trying to kill him – but enough to restrict breathing.
"Yield," Ah You gasped, his own energy spent. "Please. I don't want to hurt you."
Jason struggled for a moment, then tapped the ground twice.
The universal signal for surrender.
Ah You released the vine immediately.
Kenneth's voice rang out: "Jason Tan yields! Winner: Li Ah You!"
The Arena exploded in noise.
Ah You collapsed to his knees, completely exhausted. His MP was at 3/65. His hands were shaking. His vision was blurry.
But he'd won.
Level 4 versus Level 8.
He'd actually fucking won.
[QUEST COMPLETE: Trial by Combat]
[Achievement Unlocked: David vs Goliath - Defeated an opponent 4+ levels higher]
[Rewards: +300 EXP, +100 Esper Points, Title: "Underdog King"]
[LEVEL UP!]
[You are now Level 5!]
[LEVEL UP!]
[You are now Level 6!]
[Multiple level gains! Additional rewards calculating...]
[New Ability Unlocked: Nature's Resilience (Passive) - Increased HP regeneration when in contact with plant life]
[Stat Increases: +3 Strength, +3 Agility, +5 Intelligence, +5 Perception]
The notifications kept coming, but Ah You was too drained to read them all.
Jason stood up shakily and offered his hand. "That was the weirdest fight I've ever been in. Using plants to conduct my own lightning back at me? Who thinks of that?"
"Desperate people," Ah You managed, shaking his hand.
"Fair enough. For what it's worth, the Ong family can go screw themselves. You earned this." Jason limped toward the cage exit. "Good fight, rookie. Really good fight."
Zara was at the fence, eyes wide. "You insane, brilliant, lucky bastard. That shouldn't have worked."
"But it did."
"Yeah. It did."
Kenneth helped Ah You to his feet. "The board meeting is going to resume in five minutes. I think you've made your case rather definitively."
Ah You looked up at the observer area where the board members had been watching.
David Ong's face was stone. Fury and disbelief warring in his expression.
Marcus and Aisha were grinning like crazy.
Madam Feng, the elderly esper, was nodding slowly, looking impressed.
Linda was on her phone, probably already spreading word of what just happened.
Ah You let Kenneth help him out of the cage and toward the conference room.
He could barely walk, his body was screaming for rest, and he'd probably used up a year's worth of luck in one night.
But he'd won.
And the look on David Ong's face made every second of pain worth it.
---
The board meeting reconvened at 9:15 PM.
Ah You sat in the observer section, a bottle of energy drink in hand, trying to restore some vitality. His MP was slowly regenerating – 18/65 now.
Kenneth addressed the board directly. "I think we've seen enough to make an informed decision. David, do you still wish to push for your proposed regulations?"
David Ong was a professional. His face had returned to neutral, giving nothing away.
"The proposals were about safety standards, not about one individual fighter. However..." He paused. "It's clear that Mr. Li has demonstrated unusual tactical ability. Perhaps the minimum level requirement was overly conservative."
Translation: I'm not going to win this vote so I'm retreating strategically.
"I move to table all three proposals for further review," Victoria Ong said smoothly. "We can revisit them in six months with more comprehensive data."
"Second," said one of the other board members, someone Ah You didn't recognize.
Kenneth looked around the table. "All in favor of tabling the proposals?"
Six hands went up. More than enough.
"Motion carries. The proposals are tabled." Kenneth made a note. "Any other business?"
Madam Feng spoke for the first time, her voice surprisingly strong for her age. "I have a proposal. Li Ah You should be granted provisional Arena sponsorship."
Ah You sat up straighter. What?
"Sponsorship is typically for Level 10 and above," David Ong objected.
"Typically," Madam Feng agreed. "But we have an exceptional case. A Level 6 fighter – yes, I saw the notification during the fight, congratulations Mr. Li – who has defeated opponents up to Level 8. Who shows creative tactical thinking and adaptability. The Arena benefits from developing such talent."
Marcus spoke up. "I second the proposal."
Kenneth smiled slightly. "The Ong family wants to table their proposals. Madam Feng wants to sponsor a rookie. This is turning into quite the evening. All in favor of granting provisional Arena sponsorship to Li Ah You?"
Seven hands went up.
The Ong family members abstained, but they didn't vote against.
"Motion carries." Kenneth looked at Ah You. "Congratulations. You're now an officially sponsored Arena fighter. Zara will be assigned as your formal trainer, and you'll have access to advanced training facilities. Don't waste the opportunity."
[QUEST COMPLETE: Arena Politics]
[Rewards: Arena Sponsorship, Official Trainer Assignment, Advanced Facility Access]
[New Quest Available: Prove Your Worth - Meet sponsorship requirements over the next 3 months]
Ah You could only nod, too overwhelmed to speak.
The meeting adjourned.
As people filed out, David Ong approached. His expression was controlled, but Ah You could see the anger simmering beneath.
"You won tonight," David said quietly. "Congratulations. But understand something – this isn't over. You've made an enemy of a family with very long reach. We don't forget. We don't forgive. And we certainly don't accept humiliation."
"Is that a threat?"
"It's a statement of fact." David straightened his tie. "Enjoy your victory. They don't last forever."
He walked away, his family members following.
Linda appeared at Ah You's shoulder. "You just made the most powerful esper family in Kuching your permanent enemy."
"Yeah, I noticed."
"Was it worth it?"
Ah You thought about it. The fight. The win. The look on David Ong's face when his political maneuvering failed.
"Absolutely."
Linda laughed. "Good. Because we're going to need that attitude. The Ong family won't attack directly again – tonight proved you can handle yourself in the Arena. But they'll come at you through business, through connections, through every indirect angle they can find."
"So what do we do?"
"We build faster than they can destroy. The consortium, the restaurants, your Arena standing – we turn all of it into a foundation they can't easily topple." She checked her phone. "Speaking of which, Melissa wants to meet tomorrow. Apparently tonight's fight has made you very interesting to certain parties."
"What parties?"
"The kind who value rare abilities and tactical brilliance. The kind who might offer you opportunities." Linda started walking toward the exit. "Get some rest. Tomorrow we enter the deep waters."
Ah You followed her out, exhaustion finally catching up.
He'd started this day worried about a restaurant inspection.
He'd ended it as a Level 6 sponsored Arena fighter who'd beaten a Level 8 opponent and made enemies of one of the most powerful families in Sarawak.
His phone buzzed. A text from an unknown number:
Impressive performance. We should talk. There are bigger games than Arena politics. If you're interested in real power, real money, meet me at Carpenter Street tomorrow, 2 PM. Come alone. - M.C.
M.C. Melissa Chen.
The underground plant dealer wanted a private meeting.
Of course she did.
Because why would anything in Ah You's life ever be simple?
He pocketed his phone and headed home, already wondering what fresh chaos tomorrow would bring.
---
[To Be Continued]