The tension in the air is palpable. The energy a Rank S Hadal radiates is suffocating for low-ranks like us. One wrong move and he kills all of us. But I have a plan.

Before I deliver the result, I show the proof.

"Bone Crusher’s neck—look! He’s been poisoned!"

I say it loud enough for the entire arena to hear. Murmurs start spreading across every tier. The evidence is undeniable, which forces Rahul to hold himself in check.

If there’s one thing the Deepwarden, or any high-tier player, values above almost anything else, it’s discretion and reputation. That’s how they climbed this high and stayed this long. Act maliciously under the table. Maintain a pristine look for the masses. They wouldn’t let the Crime King simply slaughter everyone here. Not in public. Not with hundreds of witnesses.

"This fight was rigged!" I shout, and the commotion spreads wide after my declaration. The crowd unravels. Within seconds, the booing starts—and it isn’t aimed at me.

I’m close enough to feel Rahul’s fury exhaling from every pore of his body. His hand visibly controlling itself to keep from squeezing the crystal cane hard enough to shatter it.

But that isn’t my plan. So I keep going.

"But I know it wasn’t Mister Sharma’s doing!"

The silence comes back across the Oathring. Everyone stops to listen to me again.

"I saw someone shoot and run, and Mister Sharma immediately came down himself to check where the intervention came from!"

Rahul clears his throat. A small, controlled cough caught in his airway, lodged there by the corner I just painted him into.

"That... is... that’s correct," he says, waving at the crowd.

The scene is a little pathetic, but genuinely entertaining to watch.

"Don’t push me, boy." Rahul says it between his teeth, closer to a growl than a whisper.

"In no way, Mister Sharma. I wouldn’t dare. I only want things to be fair here."

I let a small note of humility carry through the voice. Too much arrogance at this moment could leave me without a tomorrow—my allies included.

"Quickly, get him out of here. Take him to the infirmary." Rahul points only at Animal Pact. Then he looks at Oliver, visibly suppressing a grimace.

"Later, we will talk about the individual who invaded this place. If he was one of your friends, you are dead."

It wasn’t a threat. It was clearly a warning.

"If he were one of my friends, he would be suffering OXI bleeding and a five-second stun, since interrupting an Oathring match generates multiple penalties." I let the alibi land first. Then I close with one last small pin. "Which is probably what happened to whoever attacked my partner."

Rahul pretends not to hear. He turns his back, walks a few steps, and barely flexes his knees before launching himself fifty feet back up to his royal box. His expression is serious now. I can’t afford to step wrong near him again.

Veric comes to my side and helps me with Oliver. The medicinal plants Oliver bought in Lost Ark and is still chewing are helping his body recover.

We take him to a nearby shop across the street, where there are a few chairs and tables outside. A common convenience store, the kind you find everywhere in cities in Thirstfall. Water, food, some instant healing potions, and other quick-use items that keep people alive in a survival world.

Rhayne, visibly worried about him, scans his body for any corrupted OXI signature. We are glad she finds nothing.

I leave Oliver with Veric and Rhayne while I head inside the shop to grab him something better.

"Here, big guy. Take it." I hand him a fast regeneration potion.

"But I’m not injured, boss." Oliver pushes back, trying to refuse the bottle.

"Just drink it and tell me you really aren’t injured."

Oliver hesitates a long time. He uncaps the potion. His lips approach the vial twice before pulling back. On the third try, he finally tilts the bottle and pours it down.

His whole body contorts. Strange grunts come out of his mouth. Sweat starts running down his temples. After a few seconds, he can breathe again. His breathing is fast and irregular—a classic symptom of severe pain.

"You sure you were fine?"

"You bastard..." Oliver curses me for the first time, somewhere between a smile and a grimace.

The poison was killing him from the inside. It wasn’t just a sedative. The plants he ate neutralized the chemistry like an antidote, but the cells already affected continued to deteriorate. The potion is doing the deeper work now, scrubbing what the leaves missed.

We rest a while. I’m certain Rahul is going to give me time before my fight. He’s realized I’m not an easy person, and putting me in the ring right now—with the crowd already heated by what I said—would make it impossible for him to act without exposing himself.

Veric leans against the wall of the shop, arms folded, watching the bookmakers across the way reset their boards. Rhayne keeps a quiet hand on Oliver’s wrist, monitoring the pulse without making a show of it. Oliver chews through the rest of his leaves slowly, color creeping back into his face.

A notice arrives in my system.

[You have received 49,000 Scales. Congratulations on your winning bet.]

’I’d love to know what Rahul is thinking about that right now.’

Since the bets are made under Ocean’s Law, I don’t need to go collect the money and deal with any trouble.

I look up at Rahul in the distance, sitting at his elevated box under the dark awning. I find his eyes from where I am. And I give him a mocking smile—small, deliberate, just wide enough that he can see it.

He sees it.

The glass cane stops tapping for a single beat. The woman behind him shifts her weight, then settles again. Rahul lifts the cane and rests it across his thighs, slowly. He’s already preparing for the second round of conversation between us, and the topic this time will be a great deal less friendly than the first.

I take a slow breath. Sip water from the bottle Veric handed me now.

My fight is next.