"In the Game of Thrones, there are no middle grounds. You either win and live or lose and die" — Cersei Lannister.
"Oh, What a coward!" A man with loose tooth shouted from top of the stands.
"Did he really just faint or he’s sleeping?"
The deafening roar of a bloodthirsty crowd woke Micah up. He gasped loudly as his eyes snapped wide open.
Instead of his firm orthopedic mattress, he found himself laying on the bloodstained sands of the gladiator arena.
Micah lowered his gaze. The sand beneath him was deeply stained with dried blood. Broken weapons and bones littered the fighting pit.
"Kill him! Tear him apart!" a man screamed from somewhere high above.
Micah flinched and then got on his knees. His heart pounded wildly as if he’d just crossed the finish line of a 400-meter relay race.
He looked around in shock. Tall stone walls surrounded him in a large circle. Tens of thousands of people sat in the high stands, screaming and waving their fists.
It was indeed a giant, ancient gladiator arena.
"Where am I?" Micah thought in panic. "What the hell is going on?"
Out of nowhere, a rush of strange memories came flooding into his mind.
Micah grabbed his head with both hands and screamed in pain as loud as he could. The sudden rush of memories that weren’t his gave him instant migraine.
Several Images flashed behind his tightly closed eyes.
He saw himself going through rigorous military training by day and beating his meat at night. Then, he saw the truth.
Basically, he had crossed over into another world. And now, he occupied the body of that exact same weak recruit.
The original owner of this body had been standing on this very spot just a few moments ago. The boy was so terrified of the final trial that his weak heart had literally stopped beating. He had died of fright.
Before Micah could even process any more of his existential crisis , a voice spoke.
[Ding!]
A mechanical voice, void of any emotion rang loudly inside his mind.
[The Daily Gacha System has successfully bound to the host.]
Micah got to his feet and froze completely. His breathe ceased for a second.
A bright blue holographic screen suddenly popped up right in front of his face. It floated slightly in the air, glowing with a strange light.
[System Rule 1: The host will receive a single Gacha draw whenever he suffers a physical injury inflicted by another living being.]
Micah blinked. He read the floating text again... and again.
The voice continued to speak inside his head, showing absolutely no human emotion at all.
[System Rule 2: The deeper and more life-threatening the injury, the higher the rarity of the items or talents the host can draw from the boundless void.]
"Wait, what?!" Micah whispered out loud. His voice was dry. "I have to let someone hurt me? I have to bleed just to get a damn reward?"
The system did not answer. The blue screen slowly faded away into thin air.
Micah barely had a single second to comprehend these crazy, suicidal rules.
GRRRRMMM...!!!
A monstrous growl suddenly shook the very foundations of the huge arena. The sound was so loud it made Micah’s teeth visibly vibrate.
The entire arena fell dead silent.
Micah completely forgot about the system. He snapped his head forward. His jaw dropped and his countenance fell.
Directly across from him, an enormous metal gate slowly began to grind open.
The thick iron chains clanked loudly. Dust and small rocks fell from the heavy stone ceiling above the gate.
A terrifying black figure slowly stepped out from the darkness of the tunnel.
The monster stepped into the sunlight and then the crowd erupted into even louder cheers.
It was an Saber-claw Bear .
Micah felt a warm liquid trickle down the inside of his thigh before slowly running down his leg, but that was the very least of his worries.
The beast was the size of a large military truck.
Its fur was thick and black, covering a body packed with solid muscle. It had four heavy legs, each ending in sharp, curved claws.
The Saber-claw Bear then locked its glowing predatory eyes completely onto Micah.
Another specific memory immediately unlocked in Micah’s mind.
This was the final assessment of the famous Astralis Academy. It was a strict, completely unforgiving military school. This single, life-or-death battle determined absolutely everything.
If you killed the beast, you became a highly respected elite soldier.
If you failed, you became beast fodder. You died a horrible, painful death in front of thousands of laughing spectators.
Micah slowly looked down at his own two hands.
His fingers were trembling uncontrollably. He wore a cheap, worn-out standard military uniform that offered zero real protection.
In his right hand, he held a basic iron sword. The weapon felt incredibly heavy and completely awkward in his weak grip.
He realized with absolute horror in his face that this new body was incredibly weak. He possessed practically zero real combat experience. His physical stats were a joke.
High up above the arena floor, the crowd went absolutely crazy. They booed and laughed mockingly at the terrified recruit.
"Look at the famous coward!" a fat-fuck screamed from the front row. He pointed a finger directly at Micah.
"He is already shaking! I bet ten thousand sol he dies in exactly three seconds!"
"Three seconds?" a woman next to him laughed wickedly. "I give him one second! The Bear will bite his head clean off before he gets the chance to take a swing at it! "
The entire stadium went crazy with betting.
People threw cash around, placing bets on exactly how many pieces Micah would be torn into. To them, he was just a sheep ready to be slaughtered. They might as well entertain themselves while they watched.
Adrenaline flooded Micah, and his survival instincts took over. He locked in.
He had just died in his past life. Giving up right now meant a second, permanent death.
’I am not dying today,’ Micah firmly declared in his mind.
He tightened his grip on the sword. His palms were sweating profusely, making the old leather handle slippery.
He forced his trembling legs to straighten and quickly assumed a basic orthodox boxing stance, one he barely remembered from watching Anthony Joshua fight back on Earth.
He kept his front foot forward and his body angled. His weight was balanced, ready to pivot, dodge, or roll the second the beast came at him.
Up on the highly secured observation balcony, a man slowly stepped forward to the metal railing.
The crowd instantly noticed him. The chaotic cheering quickly died down into a low, respectful murmur.
It was Vice-Principal Jason.
He was a tall man exuding an aura of overwhelming military authority. He wore a perfectly tailored officer’s uniform beautified with numerous shiny medals.
He stood there with one hand in his pocket.
Vice-Principal Jason did not utter a single word to the crowd.He definitely did not look down to offer any warm words of luck to Micah.
He just stared down at the arena pit with indifference and slowly raised his right hand high into the air.
The whole stadium went dead silent. You could hear a single pin drop on the hard stone.
Then, the Vice-Principal dropped his raised hand in one decisive motion. A loud mechanical buzzer blared across the entire arena.
The iron gate holding the Saber-claw Bear retracted completely with a crash that shook the ground.
The monster let out a roar so loud it sent a blast of foul wind across the sandy arena.
The beast was entirely free!