Looking further at the jobs and levels, I find that Nepenthes also leveled in job and class.

  With one last glance, I find that nothing else has changed. Not even my job. It’s been stuck at nineteen for a good while with no increases at all.

  “Alright red, let's end it for tonight. It should be morning now.”

  “Acknowledged,”

  ________________________________________________

  Flying into the stands to avoid paying the entry fee, I land on Clay’s lap as a cat. The kid gives me a happy squeeze and a content brush of my fur.

  “Myers, Gond, keep your eyes open on the competition. See if you can spot anything odd.” I tell the old men.

  “What kind of odd?” I hear Gino’s voice.

  My head swerves to the seat behind Clay. It is there that I find a grinning Gino staring at me. Next to him is his sister Julia.

  “I thought you lost!” I exclaim in surprise.

  The young man only grins wider. “I put all my winnings on Boriss instead of myself.”

  I can't help but match the kids' grin.

  I look at Julia. “Congrats on your newfound freedom. It’s nice that Jonathan kept his word.”

  “I wish to speak with you later in regards to that.” Julia answers.

  “Uhhh, sure. In the meantime, enjoy the show.”

  “T-thas stoopid,” Cillian interrupts from next to Myers. He’s got an abnormally large mug in his hand. “Yah shulda save her lata. Invest in Boriss ana make mo-mo-more,.” Cillian explains.

  “I’m not taking that risk,” Gino answers. “But I did put whatever was left over on Boriss.”

  “Bah, is nat make yah reech.”

  “Has he been drinking since morning?” I ask, curious. Usually, it takes a lot of alcohol and time for him to get drunk.

  “Cillian’s poison tolerance is abnormal,” Nepenthes states. “During meetings where money is involved, I have noticed an exponential increase in concentration and cognitive ability, but a sharp drop outside of such factors. Surgical analysis of Cillians liver and kidneys show no abnormal behavior other than expected damage from alcohol consumption.”

  “Ya was inside me?” Cillian asks. He lifts up his shirt, but there is no scar.

  The Phytonid nods. “Yes. You informed me that if you were poisoned, I have full permission to assess your body and repair anything that seems damaged. During my analysis of your organs, I have removed damaged sections of your Liver and Kidney, and then replaced it with modified stem cells.”

  “Modified how?” I ask, intrigued. It sounds like Nepenthes can modify bodies by quite a bit.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  “The new cells have Increased telomere length and greater resistance to damage from excess alcohol consumption.”

  “Can ya make me taller?” Cillian asks.

  “Not safely,” Nepenthes adds. “Unless I obtain live humans for extensive experimentation, the likelihood of problems and mistakes is high.”

  Cillian turns to me. “Capt’n-”

  “No. Whatever you are thinking, the answer is no.” I put my paw down immediately to the pouting Scot.

  Before the conversation can continue, the sound of a blaring horn reverberates throughout the colosseum. All eyes turn to the origin, where the [Announcer] stands on a raised platform.

  “Welcome to the fifth day of the tournament. Today, the survivors from yesterday will continue these grueling battles until there are only two combatants remaining. With only twenty four contestants, we expect only five rounds of combat! I hope you all have placed your bets and are ready for the bloodshed!”

  The crowd screams at the man's words, roaring as wildly as they usually do.

  “Good! Let us ready the [Gladiators]!”

  At his words, twenty six armored men take to the field, most now wearing runed plate armor except for a few who wear leather precisely for the increased mobility.

  “Hey, Gond. You mentioned Gemma and Wolven are allowed in these tournaments. Why are all the fighters human?”

  “Gemma are too slow for the arena while most Wolven dislike the random nature of Gladius arenas. They prefer the fully-geared arena fights on Okami.”

  I pout at the answer, but only for a moment. My concentration is instead shifted to the first round that is about to begin. Boriss’s first opponent is a man with a longsword who strikes a competent pose. Boriss matches the man, but with a heavier and longer greatsword.

  Instead of focusing on Boriss’s fight, I shift my gaze to the other fighters. All are young and decently skilled, but only three others wield a longsword. One of those three is going to be Garvey. The question is, which one.

  As the battles begin, all of the fighters go at each other with skill and speed. At first, trying to find the fake is difficult because none of the swordsmen are fighting or dodging perfectly. But, eventually, I notice the slight tells of one of them.

  The man dodges and blocks just as clumsily as the other two, but it is the unchanging closeness that he does so. When he dodges, he dodges by an inch, and only by an inch every single time. To the masses, it probably looks like the man is barely doing so against his opponent, but it’s clear it is planned.

  “I found the fake.” I say.

  “Same,” Gond says, though with a very deadpanned voice.

  Myers frowns as he watches the fights. Eventually, the first round ends with two of the longswords and Boriss becoming victorious.

  “I must be missing something.”

  “Itz da one wit da longsword.” Cillian points. “Da sword is betta. Parry clean.”

  I blink and focus on the two weapons of the two [Gladiators]. Indeed, Morgan’s longsword does look slightly sharper and less chipped. If what Cillian says is true, then the parry’s were done in such a way to avoid chipping the blade.

  “Are you sure?” Myers asks. “That guy seems slightly less skilled than the other.”

  Gond sighs and then looks at me. “So that's why you asked me about Garvey.”

  I nod. “Yea, Gladius isn’t playing fair. How’d you figure out it was him?”

  “Because I trained him. I know the flaws of my students well, even when they surpass me in levels.”

  “I hope I can trust you to keep your silence about this.”

  “Of course. I don’t need the [Governor] breathing down my neck and restricting what freedom I currently have. That is if they don’t kill me.”

  “Has Gladius done this before?”

  “I’ve only heard rumors and hearsay, but nothing concrete. Seeing this is disconcerting- more so than manipulating the order of fights.”

  With the second round starting, it becomes blatantly clear that Morgan is Garvey, for the man fights his opponent with seemingly less skill, only to eek out what at first seems like a lucky win. The third and fourth match end in the same way, leaving only three combatants standing. Morgan, Boriss, and a [Heavy Axeman] who just so happens to have to unluckily become Boriss’s final opponent while Morgan is automatically pushed as a finalist.

  It is this last round of the day where Boriss does struggle a bit. The [Heavy Axeman] is tall, fast, and swings his greataxe with the speed of a longsword and the force of a maul. Boriss raises his greatsword into a block that sends Boriss skidding away. Though Boriss is physically stronger, his opponent can produce significantly more force from his swings.

  “How much you want to bet Boriss is going to grapple?” I ask.

  Neither Gond nor Myers takes the bait. Instead, they watch as Boriss rides the mans swing using his greatsword, abandoning his weapon and landing a punch on the mans face. You can hear the crack of the man's jaw dislocating, only for Boriss to pull the man towards him. With another crack, Boss's forehead meets his opponent's nose.

  Then the Russian trips his opponent and pins him down on the ground, wherein Boriss’s armored fist makes several more contacts on the man's face. Eventually, the judge calls the match and announces Boriss the winner.

  ___________________________________________________________

  After the match, Gino takes his sister back to Dana before descending further into the undercrust. Not long after, he arrives at his destination.

  Flause Gambino pouts when he sees Gino arrive. Not a malevolent pout, mind you. But more a disappointed one. A pout clearly noticed by a group of suited men sitting in Flause’s store.

  “Flause, who’s the kid? He giving you trouble?” One of the men with a red tie asks.

  Flause sighs. “Not that kind of trouble.” With a wave of his hand, Gino is invited closer, where the well-dressed men take a good look at him.

  “Family?” Gino asks Flause, who nods with a smile. “Yes, they’re here for business. But you, are you here to take the rest of your winnings? I hope you realize your mistake in not investing everything from yesterday. You could have easily doubled in profits.”

  Gino can't help but chuckle. “Yea, Cillian already called me stupid for the choice. But, it is for a good cause.”

  Flause goes cross-eyed. “Cillian? The chubby short drunk man winning every gamble?”

  “T-that sounds like him, yea. Is something wrong?”

  “No, just that he’s moving the market with his winnings. He’s taken some of the riskiest trades and has won every single one.”

  One of the Gambinos chuckles. “Karson, sounds like it’s the same Cillian.”

  Karson chuckles, “Indeed Marco. Who's Cillian betting on?”

  “Boriss, a current favorite to win the tournament now. Not that the profits are that big now that everyone knows how competent the man is. His opponent is expecting to fold hard and fast.”

  “Maybe we should get in on the gamble,” Marco comments. “What do you think, Flause?”

  “I’d normally agree, but somethings off. Boriss’s opponent has a large bit of coin placed on him by the royals. I’m smelling a stink here.”

  “The kid knows something,” Karson points at Gino. All eyes move to the young man with a clear nervousness on his face.

  “I uh,” he pauses, unsure. “Just heard some rumors.”

  “Out with it lad,” Marco, “Maybe we’ll make it worth your while if the information is good.”

  Gino swallows. The Gambinos are honorable in their dealings, but can be quite the opposite depending on the situation.

  “I heard Boriss’s opponent might be hiding his actual levels.”

  Marco frowns. “Sounds impossible.”

  “It’s possible,” Karson interrupts. “I’ve seen a couple artifacts with [Spy] skills to hide or change jobs and classes.”

  “That makes a bit of sense, then.” Flause rubs his clean shaven beard. “Though most believe Boriss to win, how fast Boriss is expected to win differs. Most expect Boriss to defeat his opponent in short trades. But Cillian is betting on a long extended battle.”

  “Can you copy my bets to match Cillians?” Gino quickly asks. He was going to just bet on Boriss winning, but this is probably better.

  Flause frowns. “I can, though your profits can be a lot more if you return yesterday's winnings and put it all in the pool.”

  “I already spent it.”

  Flause seems to grow angry. The man folds his arms across his chest. “On what? [Whores]?”

  “I freed my sister from a contract.”

  And like that, Flause’s anger dissipates like a fart in the wind. Even the other Gambinos give Flause a disapproving look before smiling at Gino.

  “,” they say in unison.