A Hitman's Guide To Becoming A Hero

The arena still rang with the weight of what had happened.

Nectron had fought him. Nectron’s gravity had actually pulled on a man that reality itself refused to touch. Nobody in the American alcove had recovered from it yet, least of all the two women flanking Nicholas.

Dana turned first, her pen already rising, her mind visibly racing to piece it together. "Nicholas, whatever you did to make that happen, you need to tell me exactly what..."

But Nicholas was already gone.

He pushed off the rail and dropped onto the bridge before either Dana or Selena could get a single question out, coat settling around his shoulders as he descended toward the stage, toward the monk, toward the fight the entire day had been bending toward.

{Ding!}

{The world stands at the edge of its seat!}

{+400 Charm points}

The colosseum erupted. The chant returned, enormous and ragged, sixty thousand voices pouring down onto the man walking to meet a god.

"PHAN-TOM! PHAN-TOM! PHAN-TOM!"

In the stands, people who had watched him carve through five of the strongest fighters alive rose to their feet, and behind their screens two hundred million more leaned in, because whatever happened in the next few minutes would decide not just a tournament but the answer to the question the entire world had been asking all day. What was Phantom? And what, truly, was the monk who had never lost?

Up in the alcove, Selena gripped the rail with both hands, her cigarette crushed and forgotten between her fingers. She had spent the whole day watching him spend himself down to nothing and climb back up, watching him take fight after fight when any sane hero would have tapped out, and now he was walking toward the one opponent she genuinely did not believe he could beat.

"Come back," she murmured, too quiet for anyone to hear. "You promised me a crown. So come back and get it."

"AND HERE HE COMES!" Julie’s voice tore over the noise. "The last man standing! Five wins in a single day, and now, the FINAL fight! Phantom against the undefeated Star Dragon, Tianzun! For the crown! For EVERYTHING! Fighters, take your places!"

Nicholas crossed the fresh stone and stopped a few meters from the monk.

Tianzun had settled back into his calm the moment Nectron fell, that bottomless smile resting on his face as though the brawl of moments ago had never happened. He regarded the man in black with serene, patient eyes.

"FIGHTERS READY!" Julie called. "THE FINAL MATCH BEGINS IN... TEN!"

The countdown began. And into it, quiet enough that only the monk could hear, Nicholas began to speak.

"Your ability lets you embody a god," he said.

Tianzun’s smile did not move. But his eyes did, just slightly.

"NINE!"

"But you don’t get to choose freely," Nicholas continued, his voice flat and even, laying it out the way he laid out everything. "It’s conditional. Which god you become, how much power you’re allowed to draw, all of it depends on the strength your opponent commits in their first three attacks. The three trials. That’s what they’re for. They’re not mercy. They’re a measurement."

"EIGHT!"

"Before those three attacks land, that thing behind you shields you completely. Nothing can touch you, nothing can kill you, because you haven’t taken a shape yet. You’re still everything and nothing at once." Nicholas’ one good eye held the monk’s. "That’s why space slid off you. That’s why the shredder couldn’t grind you. You weren’t defending. You simply couldn’t be harmed yet."

"SEVEN!"

"But the moment the trials end, you commit. You reach up to that wheel, and you pick one god, one form suited to whatever your opponent showed you. And the instant you do, every other defense collapses. You trade the perfect protection of being nothing for the overwhelming power of being one specific thing."

"SIX!"

"So if your opponent throws everything at you in those three trials, if they show you a real threat, you answer it with a god strong enough to erase them on the spot. Mercury. Vixen. They forced you to become something that could end them, and it did." A pause. "But if they show you nothing..."

"FIVE!"

"...then the god you’re allowed to pull is nothing to match it. Weak. Barely rated. And every other shield is already gone." Nicholas’ voice dropped lower still. "That’s what Nectron just proved. He held back through all three trials on purpose, so the god you drew against him was small enough that his gravity could finally bite. You couldn’t one-shot him, because I never let you measure a reason to."

"FOUR!"

Nicholas tilted his head slightly.

"It’s no wonder you barely speak. A secret like that, the exact rule that decides whether you’re a god or a target, is far too important to ever let anyone hear."

For the first time in three years, for the first time in the entire tournament, Tianzun’s expression changed.

The smile faltered. His eyes widened, just a fraction, and something moved behind them that no camera in the building had ever captured on his face before.

Surprise.

It lasted only a heartbeat. Then the calm flowed back over him like water closing over a dropped stone, and the small, serene smile returned, warmer now, almost delighted.

"THREE!"

"You’re really smart," Tianzun said quietly, and he sounded like he meant every word. "I expected nothing less from the one man on this stage I couldn’t read." He raised one hand, and slowly, deliberately, unfolded three fingers. "Let’s see if your assumptions are correct."

He held Nicholas’ gaze.

"Three tries."

"TWO!"

Nicholas’ eyes narrowed.

Because that was not the reaction of a man whose secret had just been laid bare. There had been surprise, yes, real surprise, but the calm that followed it was too easy, too pleased. A man whose only defense had just been exposed should have been afraid. Tianzun looked like a teacher who had just watched a bright student answer a question correctly, and knew the next question on the test would be harder.

’Did I get something wrong?’ Nicholas thought, cold threading through him. ’The shape of it is right, I’m certain of that. Nectron proved it. So why does he look like that? What am I not accounting for?’

He set his feet, hands loose at his sides, the Void finally uncoiling from where he had chained it since his birthday night, ready at last for the one target it had ever been meant for. And still, that flicker of doubt would not leave him.

Tianzun sank into a stance, empty hands rising, that knowing smile fixed in place.

"ONE!"

The colosseum held its breath.

"START!"