“We’re rich!” Felicia clenched her fist around the wads of dema notes that were now in her hands, now in her room, and excitedly counted the exact amount.

It was common knowledge in the city of Akama to not flaunt money on the streets, so Felicia kept mum till she reached the safety of her home, escorted by none other than Gideon.

“I can’t believe you actually betted your entire pocket money on Sel.” Gideon groaned, plopping down onto a computer chair.

“You pretty much did the same thing too!”

“Yeah, but what about Aunt Samatha? What if Sel lost?”

Felicia glared at him. “You’re the one who got me into this in the first place!”

“You stalked me out of your own choice!”

“And what, be ignorant of what you and my brother are doing behind my backs? I don’t deserve to know?”

“Urghh…. Look, we made it out with the winnings, that’s great and all. How much did we make?” Gideon pulled out a notepad from a nearby bookshelf, one already scribbled with numbers.

“I put 500 demas in, got about 1500 demas out. I only betted on Sel today.”

“Right, so based on our bets so far, we’re up 4000 demas.”

The sum was slightly ridiculous to both Gideon and Felicia, their pocket money for the month usually only being in the range of five hundred to a thousand demas at best. Earning just four times that in a single week from two matches alone was mind-boggling.

Neither of them had handled that much money in their hands before. For Felicia, it was always Sel who was in charge of money matters, her focusing on studying.

As for Gideon, his mom was a relatively stable financial source, so he never really thought about what to do if he had this much money.

“What do we do?” Felicia asked Gideon, who himself was lost in thought, simply staring at the stack of demas now placed between them.

“We should keep some of the money for Aunt Samantha. I promised Sel that I would.” Gideon started to separate the notes of Demas, when Felicia suddenly stopped him, slapping his hand.

“Idiot, didn’t you see what happened today? Sel blocked a metal needle with his bare skin! We should be going all in on him!” Felicia chided, snatching back the dema notes into her arms.

“You’re still ignoring the small chance that he could lose!”

“Have you no faith in your cousin? Sel is on a warpath – you yourself said last week that it was all part of the plan. He’s going to crush every fighter along his path, and when he comes back after winning the tournament, he’ll be thrilled to see that we made the right call.”

“No, no, no!” Gideon shook his head vigorously, trying to snatch back the notes. “You don’t even know who the other fighters are! What if they had guns? Swords? You think Sel can block an entire spear?”

“I have absolute confidence in him, and you should too! What, you’re going to bet against Sel?”

“I’m not saying anything like that – all I’m saying is that we should be saving prudently. At least fifty percent just in case Sel loses.”

Felicia grabbed the notebook, tugging it away from Gideon’s side and scribbling furiously on the paper, crumpling it slightly. “Look, I’ve done the math if we go all in, and it’s not like we don’t have any savings. Sel still has his own savings, all I’m doing is using the pocket money I was given!”

She shoved the notebook into Gideon’s face, while Gideon scrounged up his brows, trying to understand it. “Odds of Sel winning…. Opportunity cost…. Compound interest… huh?”

“This is what you get for not listening in class.” Felicia scoffed. “The math here clearly says that the difference between going all in on Sel and only betting 50% is a difference of twelve thousand demas in result!”

“That’s only if you win all matches!”

“And if he loses, we’re back to square one!” Felicia stretched out her hands. “Nothing lost, nothing gained. We don’t lose anything that we didn’t already have, and we’re not worse off than where we started! Don’t you understand, Gideon? I’m at the very bottom here, all I can do is go up!”

Gideon was flabbergasted, noticing a very similar determination in Felicia’s gaze. “Like brother like sister huh.”

“Now, don’t you give up on Sel, too! He’s going to make it all the way!”

***

Three days later at the temple…

“Sel.”

“I’m busy right now.”

“Sel, this is important!”

“I’m doing something important now too.”

“Calculating the finances of the temple can be done later!”

“I’m already halfway through it.”

“Shaman Peris is asking for you, he wants to talk to you before the service begins later.”

“Tell him to wait till tomorrow.”

A feminine hand grabbed Sel by the shoulder, turning him around to face Angelina, who was furious. “Sel, you can’t keep treating Shaman Peris like this. You’re avoiding him like you’re avoiding a plague!”

Sel wanted to retort, but instead jerked his shoulder away in silence, turning back towards the computer monitor in defiance.

As he was just about to enter another formula into the spreadsheet, the monitor went black. “What the…?”

“Sel! What’s the matter with you?” Angelina held a power cable in her hand, tossing it onto the ground with a clattering sound. “You never used to treat Shaman Peris like this – what’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong? It’s because I know exactly what the Shaman is going to say to me. Why should I subject myself to a scolding?” Sel shot back.

“He only has his best interests for you – if he scolds you it’s for a good reason!” Angelina raised her voice slightly but took a deep breath before calmly continuing. “Sel, I don’t claim to know everything and anything about your situation back home. But the temple is here to help you whenever you need it. If you need money -"

"I don’t need the money!” Sel slammed his fist on the table hard, a crack appearing through the seams of the wooden top, the keyboard and mouse vibrating slightly, shocking Angelina. “Sorry, I’m just tired of being offered handouts. Of people pitying me but being unwilling to truly help me.”

“How is the temple giving you money a ‘handout’? You’ve done so much for the temple!”

“Every ‘handout’ I get doesn’t help me break the cycle! Every ‘handout’ I get doesn’t even enter my own hands, it just slips away! I can’t let money that could be used to feed the orphans just be wasted like that.” Sel fumed, recalling his aunt’s greedy snatching of his last ‘handout’ from the temple.

“The kids would want you to be happy too, you know that too, Sel?”

“They have a brighter future ahead of me. At least they still have a chance to get a scholarship.” Mine is long gone.

“Sel! Enough with this self-deprecating talk!” Angelina stomped her foot. “You will go talk to Shaman Peris right now before service starts, understood? I will not allow the two pillars of our temple to fight each other!”

Sel wanted to argue, but Angelina grabbed him, trying to lift him up from the chair but failing to. Sel sighed, not wanting to fight against Angelina anymore and heading over to the office.

Yet as soon as he entered the Shaman’s office, memories of their previous conversation flooded his mind. “What do you want to talk to me about?”

“Sel….” Shaman Peris began slowly as always, but this exasperated Sel.

“I’m pretty busy with the finances now, so if you could make this quick, it’ll be better.”

“I understand. Sel, I’m sorry for what I’ve said last time. I did not mean to make you feel weak, or to stop you from trying to forge your own path.”

Sel was taken aback by the sudden apology, his rage subsiding. “You’re sorry?”

“Indeed. It was impertinent of me to assume that you did not know what you are doing. I can only hope you have the best intentions in your heart to continue sticking with Mason.”

“You keep dissing Mason like he’s the incarnation of evil, but he’s still the only one who sees me for what I can achieve.” Sel retorted. “Not some target of charity or pity, instead a real human who can strive for goals and work hard.”

“I know you can. I believe in you, truly.”

Sel was about to dismiss that, until a notification resounded in his brain.

[+2 Faith Received]

From the Shaman?!

“You have the determination and the drive to achieve whatever goal you desire. You have proven time and time again that it is mind over matter. All I ask is that you do not fall into vices, into sin. Into unabated violence and addiction. ” Shaman Peris continued. “Can you promise me that, Sel? I won’t push any further.”

Sel’s words were caught in his throat, unable to make the promise. How could he promise that when he had already sent two guys to the hospital all for money and fame? Furthermore, he was on track to beat up four more fighters in a row, to claim the final prize.

Sel’s hesitation was clearly caught by the Shaman, who frowned: “Don’t you see? When one lives close to cinnabar, it turns you red – when one lives with ink, it turns your hands black.”

“I’m not a kid anymore!”

“I know – but it means you are far more responsible for your actions than ever. If you repent now-“

“Repent? Repent for what? Repent for being an underdog trapped under the heels of others, unable to fight back? The world isn’t as peaceful as the temple, Shaman – the outside is cruel, unjust and vicarious.”

“This does not mean that you, too, have to be a monster to survive. To lose your soul to the world!”

Both of them fell into an awkward silence, knowing that the same conversation from before was repeating itself once again.

“Sel, if you continue down this path, only tragedy awaits. I’ve seen it far too often.” Shaman Peris warned.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Shaman.” Sel started to leave the room. “I’ve never felt more alive.”

The temple’s service went as per planned, with even more attendees than before. Many of the audience members who had witnessed the Shaman fighter had either come to the temple in search of the mysterious fighter, or have been converted by the miraculous fights Sel had been putting out.

As Sel repeated the glow of the idol once more, the Faith surged in in large amounts. Selling the necklaces and miniature idols also allowed him to funnel Faith nonstop over the weeks.

Strangely enough, Sel spotted a few people he would have never expected to be attending the service. He spotted a few of Mason’s gang members attending the service, all seemingly led by Chira, who nodded at him.

However, there was an individual who looked completely out of place during the service – someone akin to a butler, his hands gloved completely and his lower face masked, almost having no skin exposed below the nose. His messy hair covered his eyes, but they seemed to be staring straight at Sel.

After the service, the weird butler left immediately, while Chira’s men hung around the outskirts of the temple. Undressing himself from the ceremonial robes, Sel checked his current skills once more.

[Active Skill: Resurgence (F) – Recover swiftly, restoring strength and vitality of the User and improving regeneration. Activation Cost: 1 Faith per second, 300 seconds for full regeneration. Cooldown: One week. Purchase Cost: 60 Faith/180 Trust.]

[Active Skill: Aura of Perseverance (F) – Radiates an invisible aura that inspires those around to remain steadfast. Activation Cost: 1 Faith per second, maximum duration of 120 seconds. Cooldown: One day. Purchase Cost: 60 Faith/180 Trust.]

[Passive Skill: Fatigue Endurance (F) – Reduces the User’s reliance on sleep. Ability to go without sleep at maximum rank. Purchase Cost: 120 Faith/360 Trust.]

[Passive Skill: Physical Fortitude (F) – Reduces the damage inflicted against the User for physical attacks. Note: does not reduce amount of pain felt. Purchase Cost: 120 Faith/360 Trust.]

Those were the skills for the first Aspect Grade. After he upgraded it, he had now acquired two more skills.

[Active Skill: Rock Solid (F+) - Solidifies a single part of your skin for a brief moment, hardening it. Activation Cost: 3 Faith per activation, Cooldown: Five seconds. Purchase Cost: 600/1800 Trust. ]

[Passive Skill: Celluar Regeneration (F+) - Baseline Natural Healing increased, at the cost of increased hunger and thirst. Purchase Cost: 1800 Faith/4400 Trust.]

Rock Solid was the skill that he used to block the metal needle from Solitary, and also allowed him to augment his punches and kicks in a split second. However, the area that it could harden was relatively small. Sel knew that he would not be able to block a full sword attack or react fast enough for a gunshot.

Even if the tournament forbids weapons of any kind, it was a given that all of the fighters in the main tournament would have a trick or two up their sleeves. And if a weapon was drawn out during the middle of the fight, the fight wouldn’t be stopped either – people wanted to see blood, and it was an underground fighting tournament, after all.

Solitary had already been disqualified and punished from future tournaments, but Sel recalled the uncaring faces of the referees, announcers, and guards around the chalk ring. His life was his own to protect, so he needed to find methods to prevent a similar incident from happening once again.

Now, he needed to spend more time training, not wasting time at the temple doing service. The Faith could now be collected passively through the miniature idols – his time would be better spent sparring with Mason.

“Angelina. I won’t be coming back for the next three weeks. I found a temporary job outside.” Sel explained, Angelina’s expression crestfallen.

“I…. I won’t claim to understand, but we’ll be here for you if you need us, okay? Stay safe.”

“I’ll still be in the city, just won’t be at the temple. No need to pay me my salary, give it to the orphans.”

Sel left without another word, not even saying goodbye to the Shaman as the other members of the temple watched Sel leave with his backpack filled to the brim.

“Is Senior Sel leaving for good?” A young altar girl tugged at the Shaman’s robes.

“No, he isn’t; he is on a journey of self-discovery. Every man must go through this phase of their life, before truly realizing their folly. And when he returns, we shall welcome him with open arms.”

Outside the temple, Sel walked up Chira’s men, who all grinned at him. The entirety of Mason’s gang had betted on him, so they were far more open and receptive to him now.

“What are you guys doing here?”

“I’m a man of my word. I told you I’ll make sure no one fucks with your temple.” Chira grinned, inhaling sharply on a cigarette before letting out fumes through his nose.

“You’re the only people around that could potentially harass the temple.” Sel scoffed.

“I wish that was the case.” Chira draped his shoulders around Sel in a buddy stance. “Don’t squirm, act normal and move.”

“What’s going on?”

As they walk, Chira motioned wildly with his hands, talking and laughing with the rest of the men as they moved towards the gym. “Follow my cigarette, see where the butt points. Spot anything?”

Sel was about to curse at the potential prank, when he finally spotted what Chira was secretly motioning at. An unfamiliar man reading a newspaper on a bench nearby, seemingly ignoring them. “Maybe someone that moved into town?”

“Oh yea? How about that guy?”

Chira pointed towards an roadside hawker stall selling noodles to a few hungry passerbys. Sel locked eyes with the stall owner, who seemed to hastily avoid his gaze and look away.

“Maybe he’s trying his luck here.”

“Selling noodles in bumfuck Akama? You…. How naïve are you? You saw that guy in service, didn’t you? Fancy white gloves, butler suit all that. Who the hell dresses like that here?”

Sel couldn’t refute Chira, finding it strange that all of these guys were seemingly surrounding the temple, especially that weird butler guy who attended the service.

“Look, maybe you don’t trust me. You don’t believe me just yet. But put it this way. Right now, you’re our money printer. Isn’t that right boys?”

“Hell yea!”

“If you keep winning, we keep winning. So I sure as hell am going to make sure nothing happens to you. You got it? I’m on your side, kid. You’ll make it big.”

Sel nodded externally, but internally he still harboured a seed of suspicion and doubt towards Chira. Can people really change that fast? “Got it. Thanks, Chira.”

“No worries kid. We all look out for one another here in Akama.” Chira chuckled, patting Sel on the back as they neared the gym. “Now how about we go another round of sparring so I can beat you up good?”

“You wish. If anything, I’m going to crush you.” Sel grinned, raring to go and masking his own inner concerns.

There was something that he couldn’t admit to the Shaman directly just now, nor something that he could tell anybody else. But there was a deep-seated problem with how the fights had been going, something inherently wrong.

He had only realized it when his fist collided with Solitary’s jaw in the last match, as though the gears in his head had clicked into motion, starting a chain reaction that might not be stopped. Something terrible, something that Sel himself would not have expected him to feel in the past. It was the very reason why he could not promise the Shaman.

A broiling emotion that raged in his veins that he now lusted for and chased after: to see the opponent grovel at his feet, to know that he was no longer at the bottom, that he was better than someone.

That he was better than anybody.

And it was a feeling he would not give up for anybody, not even the Shaman.

The feeling of power.