Grey grinned.
He thought about the note at the bottom of the description again, but didn’t jump to any conclusions just yet. Who knew, maybe he was just a bit unlucky.
But even if he was being targeted...
So what?
Did they think they could wear him down like this?
A man was pulled from the ground. He had two red lines painted on his face that traveled from his hairline down to his jaw. They were perfectly straight and measured, each one about three quarters of an inch thick.
The moment he appeared on the battlefield those lines started to glow as though they were gathering power for him. Grey could feel the man’s body heating up as though he was about to sink into some odd berserk state.
When the cube signaled for a start, he charged, roaring and spreading his arms out wide to meet Grey. The instant he got close, he dove at Grey’s legs.
What he apparently didn’t know was that Grey had spent too much time in MMA cages.
BANG.
Grey’s hand slammed down on the top of the man’s head, his legs spreading out in a sprawl.
The man’s head was buried into the soil. His hands twitched once and then he stopped moving altogether, completely unconscious.
Grey raised an eyebrow and then picked himself up.
Were these really First Rankers?
Once again, a team had to drag their leader away.
It was a pair of men, both with the same tattoos painted onto their faces. Though, they were much less muscular and robust than the one Grey had just taken out.
They gave Grey dirty looks and that was when Grey’s relatively good mood went down the shitter.
"What do you think this is, exactly? Do you think this little cube will stop me from taking your head off?"
The man staring at him stiffened.
"I left him alive, he’s relatively uninjured, and you still want to glare? Do you want to see how far I can go while still ’keeping him alive’? Or are you going to piss the fuck off?"
Both men immediately looked away and then hurried off.
Grey frowned, his mood foul. He was sure that a lot of these people had probably seen the narrative the Producers spread. It wasn’t like the broadcasts were kept to per zone regions. So long as the Great Udon appeared, it would be broadcast to everyone.
They probably didn’t make the connection yesterday because everything happened so fast, and because those images had his hair and eyes in black, while he had changed quite a bit since then. But by now, they certainly put two and two together.
Grey felt another tug on his body and this time, his eyes narrowed.
A sneer spread across his face as he was faced with yet another opponent.
The cube hardly made a sound this time when Grey moved. In one moment, he was easily half a dozen meters away from the man, in the next his fist was driving into his gut.
The man coughed out every hint of air his lungs had, then came the vomit, then came the blood. His eyes rolled to the back of his skull and he fell over limply, the overload of pain frying his mind.
He collapsed to the ground.
Grey walked over to the cube, ignoring the man, and plucked it out of the air.
"I’m not sure if you all think I’m an idiot or something, but what I can tell you is that I don’t have the patience for any of this."
"Put that down!" Alvin roared, the butt of a heavy staff slamming down in front of him.
"Or what?" Grey asked, his head tilting over.
Alvin froze. The murder reflecting in Grey’s eyes turned his blood to ash, he felt like a real monster was looking at him.
Grey tossed the cube into the air and Frantz’s spear appeared in his hand. A radiant golden light filled the air and his blade flashed continuously.
The cube was split like it was a tin can, its body spliced into countless little cubes.
BANG.
A pulsing radiance came from his free hand and Solarbrand lit the cube until it burned a furious red, falling into puddles of molten sludge that instantly lit the grassy fields on fire.
"You’re weak. You’re pathetic. You’re easily manipulated, and you’re not nearly as clever as you think you are." Grey said, his voice seething. "Do you think you’ve won by successfully pissing me off?"
The spear vanished from Grey’s hands and shadows began to radiate from his feet, a large plume of fire erupting from where the cube landed.
His toes pressed into the ground and in an instant, he flashed forward.
He appeared before Alvin’s group so fast the man hardly had time to raise his staff.
Grey could have gone around it, he could have easily punched somewhere else, used a feint or shifted the timing of his attack. Alvin was so easy to read that it was nothing short of pathetic.
But he didn’t.
He punched right through it.
The staff broke on impact, its shards slamming into the big man’s chest and drawing blood.
BANG.
He was sent flying back like a speeding bullet. Grey himself only landed on the ground, his bomber jacket flapping in the wind for a short while before it settled down.
Mauve, Stella, and Brad’s expressions sank. Grey was really a loose cannon. The moment he sensed the slightest slight, he didn’t have the patience to wait it out or deal with it.
However, they were angry too. The cube was smarter than to pick the same person three times in a row. Someone had definitely manipulated things.
The difference between them and Grey was that he actually had the strength to stand up for himself.
Alvin skidded to a stop on the ground, his body convulsing as two halves of his staff stabbed into his chest at awkward angles.