The stands were already filling. Just as last time, they were full of Cultivators and cyborgs together, all excited about the tournament to come. Many were here to gamble on the results, others to see further examples of how technology and cultivation compared, the strategies and tools used.

Though there was also a large minority of people who were here simply for fun, the majority had some kind of purpose for spending their limited time here.

One large subsection of those purposeful individuals were those who'd decided to use the tournament as a handy place to gather and discuss business. Not only could they place bets and observe, but the tournament now came with an option for people to sit in screened, protected areas, away from the unruly crowd.

This change was visible in a new level of seating, a higher row above the typical stands. From here there bulged large private balconies, each one with its own spiritual layer that provided privacy. Not only working as a one-way view for those inside and hiding them from those outside, but also restraining any sounds they might make. Above these, large black flags and banners hung proudly from poles poking out from the very top of the coliseum, the colours of House Morvain.

While in the stands below Cultivators and cyborgs mocked and threatened one another, in these more private seating areas groups comprising some of the richest, most powerful and influential Players in Phantom City were meeting.

In one of the private balconies, behind a dark spiritual barrier, Hao Jian stood just behind and to the side of his father.

'Thank you ever so much for meeting me like this,' said the Hao Clan Primarch, bowing to the Nara Clan Cultivator.

Nara Hanwai, a severe, pale man in a dark robe gazed back, unsmiling and unbowing. 'I prefer not to waste time, and planned to attend this regardless,' said Hanwei. 'Make sure you do not bother me while I am watching my younger sister fight.'

Jian's lips twitched. Such disrespect would not have been tolerated by any other.

'Of course,' spoke Old Man Hao, bowing again. 'You know, I also have a young prodigy, much like your younger sister. Have you met my son, Jian?'

He waved a hand, and Jian nodded shortly to Hanwei.

'He has just recently achieved Tier 2, a resounding success.'

Jian bristled as the Hanwei looked him over, emanating disdain.

'Yes. I believe he lost to the one known as Nicolai in last week's tournament.'

'The barbarian cheated,' Jian hissed.

'A true warrior seizes victory regardless of what methods their opponent might use,' said Hanwei.

Before Jian could speak back, a hand grasped him by the arm, his father wrestling him back.

'Yes, yes,' said the old man. 'Most unfortunate. But today we did find victory in that we were able to purchase a Toothbearer Blood Symbiote, much desired by the barbarian.' The old man chuckled. 'Just as few can compete with your clan's martial might, few can compete with our own Hao clan's wealth.'

He smiled expectantly at the Nara Clan Cultivator, who nodded, eyes cool. Jian recognised this as a minor victory. The old man had told him their aims hinged on making sure the Nara clan understood how wealthy they were. The Nara clan were were said to be almost bankrupt.

'I hope your younger sister will prove more capable than myself,' broke in Jian, nodding with apparent deferentiality to the Nara Clan Cultivator. 'Perhaps she can undo my shame by defeating the barbarian. I am greatly looking forward to seeing he fight against him.'

Hanwei's eyes narrowed in response, but Jian's friendly smile was unchanging. His father shot him a warning look and Jian turned away, smiling still. He dearly, dearly hoped that Hanwei's sister would be defeated by Nicolai. If a member of the Nara clan lost to the barbarian, who would care about calling him faceless then?

He snorted angrily, and distracted himself from the thoughts by looking the arena over.

It was a large jungle area, one which seemed strangely scaled-down. The duel arena was using some strange space-bending Arts to fit a larger area into the smaller space of the coliseum.

Jian placed his Marked hand on the barrier, which stirred. Words appeared, and he clicked through the menus. Another benefit of this private balcony. He'd be able to view specific competitors, rather than being stuck with whatever the big screens chose to show.

This function was actually the main reason the Nara Clan Cultivator had agreed to meet with the old man, who had promised to pay the excessive fee that House Morvain was charging for each balcony.

Jian found the name he was after and tapped it, but nothing happened. The competitors hadn't yet spawned in. The sounds of his father embarrassing shamelessly greasing up Hanwei faded away as he glared down into the jungle. He remembered seeing Nicolai earlier that day, while peering down from another private balcony in the Auction House. There he'd seen Nicolai leave after failing to purchase the Toothbearer Blood Symbiote.

The old man had been happy at the opportunity to reduce some of their shame—or as he kept reminding Jian, his shame—by defeating the barbarian in a public manner. Plus the Toothbearer Blood would be useful for his younger sister. She wasn't here today, away training furiously as she worked to master her current Symbiote setup and complete her internal node system. For someone so young, she was making astonishing progress, especially in this last week. She would probably be able to make use of her Toothbearer Blood Symbiote quite soon.

But leveraging their wealth to take something the man had wanted was far from enough in Jian's eyes. He wanted to see the bastard ground to dust, to crush him into pulp—ideally in front of an audience. Feeling at the strength of the Symbiotes within him, reminding himself of his enhanced Soul, he smiled grimly.

Jian himself had been putting in his own practice with the small number of Tier 2 Symbiotes he was now equipped with. Even for the Hao Clan, it hadn't been possible to provide him a full set of Tier 2 Symbiotes. Most of his were still Tier 1, though he had one crucial upgrade in that the arm that had held the Spectral Claw now had a full set of Tier 2 Symbiotes. He was actually far more powerful than he had been previously.

He intended to challenge the barbarian again today, after the Tournament. Alas, he wouldn't be able to face the man in the Tournament, as he was now only eligible for Tournament Two.

He had low expectations for that Tournament. It was so unfair. He'd seen the top performers last time, many of them had full sets of Tier 2 Symbiotes and had clearly been at that stage for some time. Then there were the barbarians, whose weird technology and powerful bodies seemed to only grow more weird and powerful at that higher stage.

He wouldn't be able to regain his face in Tournament Two. But a rematch with the barbarian, that would do it. With his Tier 2 Symbiotes, he couldn't lose.

###

In another balcony, Gregory peered eagerly into the arena. Sitting and chatting around him were a few of his friends, old and new. He had spent the rest of his time last week networking and had found, to his surprise, a few people he'd known from New London. He was still waiting on everyone he'd invited to arrive at his private balcony.

'Who you putting your creds on?' asked one late arrival, peeling off a combat jacket as he slid into a seat.

Gregory turned excitedly. 'I'm all in on Nicolai,' he said.

'Wait—all in?' The guy stared. 'As in…'

'As in everything I've got, obviously.'

Markel turned from his own conversation to stare, eyes widening. 'Already?' he cried, horrified. 'You've bet already?' He rose from his seat, coming forward. 'Oh no… that's why you were hammering the interface just now?! I thought you were just testing it out!

'Yep!' replied Gregory brightly, gesturing to the spiritual touch screen. 'Look at these numbers! The odds of him being the final winner are one out of four! My money will be quadrupled!'

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

'How much did you put on him?' asked Markel, eyes wide.

'All in, I said,' said Gregory impatiently.

'But master,' hissed Markel, stepping closer. 'There hasn't even been the first stage yet, and people are saying that the Cultivators are planning on teaming up! And then there's this Nara clan girl!'

His manservant looked imploringly at the others.

'I did hear that, about the teaming,' said one of them. 'They were all having a big meeting in the lobby, pretty obvious.'

Gregory flapped a hand dismissively. 'No need to worry about any of that. My boy's going to take it, just like last time. He's got the skills, and I've got the gift.' He tapped at his head, grinning widely. 'It's free money.'

One of them chuckled, raising his hands. 'I'm holding off until there's a bit more data.'

Another shrugged. 'I'll put some down, but I'm not going all in. Say… 100k?'

Gregory snorted, turning away. 'Cowards,' he muttered under his breath.

That was when the portal that provided entry and exit from the balcony flickered. It was a blue rectangle, like a doorway. Someone stepped out of it, followed by another.

Gregory looked over, and his grin reappeared. 'Vikrum, there you are! I was starting to wonder if you wouldn't show.'

'Gregory,' Vikrum said, nodding to him and glancing at the others.

Gregory had met him earlier that day and been overjoyed to do so. Vikrum had not exactly been a friend, but certainly an acquaintance, back in Night City. They were both of a similar age, their parents ran similarly large Corporations, and they had frequented a lot of the same parties and hangouts. Behind Vikrum was a quite nice-looking augmented girl, whose name he couldn't be bothered to remember.

'Come over here, come over here!' Gregory enthused, bustling forward and latching onto Vikrum, tugging him towards the spiritual screen he'd been using to place his bet. A despairing Markel meanwhile sank into a chair and took a gulp of rice wine. 'These guys are too scared to make free money, but I'm sure you'll be more sensible.'

Gregory tapped at his nose. 'I've got a big tip for you. If you want to make some money, put everything you have on my man Nicolai.' He pointed at the screen on which he'd brought up the name. 'He's gonna win this thing, and when he does, I'm gonna make it big!'

Vikrum's expression transformed into one of annoyed surprise.

'What's up?' he asked, looking between Vikrum and the name Vikrum was glaring at. 'Do you know him?'

'I guess it makes sense you'd be a fan,' murmured Vikrum irritably. He sighed, looked imploring at the girl he'd came with. 'There's just no escaping that bastard.'

'Bad encounter?' said Gregory, forming a sympathetic expression to cover his sudden curiosity.

Vikrum didn't answer at first, moving past to look down into the arena, putting one hand on the railing. He snorted. 'You know, based on what I know about him, I guess he is a good one to bet on.'

Gregory planted himself casually against the railing, leaning until the spiritual field pressed back against him. He grinned winningly. 'Based on what you know, huh? Mysterious. I hope you aren't planning on dropping a line like that then staying quiet.'

'I don't think he's human,' said Vikrum, still staring down into the arena. Before Gregory could dig into that interesting little comment, he continued. 'Y'know what, I think I will join you with a bet. I like the idea of that. On the one hand, if he does win, that'll piss me off. But, if I win money at the same time… well, it'll take some of the sting out of it.' Vikrum shrugged. 'Plus, we could use the money, back home.'

Gregory considered the other Level 3 for a moment. That last part was an obvious conversational hook. It would be impolite not to ask about it. He'd start there, then work to turn the conversation to what really interested him…

###

'Nicolai, right?' spoke one of the approaching Earthers. He was a slender man wearing a tight-fitting dull-grey combat suit, the hood pooled around his neck. His whole face was synthflesh, black from the nose down, matte-grey above, and his eyes were square-pupiled bionics. Under that combat suit he was definitely more artificial than flesh.

The other was short and female, at least in shape, but she was just as highly augmented as her companion. Stark-white faceplate, glossy blue lips, triangular pupils, and a merc-tag under her right eye. Urban-camo combat armour bulked her out.

'That'd be me.' Nicolai's everyman H-gram shifted into a politely neutral face. Behind it, he considered the pair.

Low-mid tier borg-mercs, Level 1 base with some Level 2 additions. The woman's logo was for Wolfshine, a small scale PMC operating in New London. Assault rifles hung over their chests.

More interesting to Nicolai was the fact they both had Souls and from the feel of it, halfway complete Node systems. Threat Analysis informed him the guy had a lot of Symbiotes based around stealth and shielding, the girl had a shield, speed-boosting Symbiotes, plus something else the Module wasn't sure about. It had yet to gather enough data to identify every Symbiote just from passive ripples.

The system must consider them, like him, just shy of qualifying for Tournament Two.

'Heard you wiped the floor last time,' said the woman, triangular pupil's eyeing him with interest. She jerked her chin at the wrapped Blade on his back. 'What you got there?'

'A surprise.'

'Fun?'

He grinned, showed it through the H-gram. His excitement for the combat to come was rising. 'Depends where you're standing.'

'You might struggle this time,' said the man.

'Because of you?' Nicolai asked.

The merc smirked, didn't answer, rather turned and pointed across the way. 'You see her?'

Nicolai followed the gesture. He was unsurprised to see the man was pointing at the Nara clan Cultivator.

'She's from what they call the Nara clan. Apparently these guys are experts at close-up combat, and she's a prodigy among them. Word is she's come here with a loadout built just to drop you.'

'Wow.' The Modules own research—from listening in on all those conversations—suggested that she was here with a loadout designed to protect her from lasers, bullets, and Soul Sense. Which meant she'd come ready to handle literally everyone, not just him. Still, he respected the guy was tweaking the sales pitch to fit the customer. He would've done the same.

'They also say the Cultivators wanna wipe all the Earthers out the bracket before the tournie even gets properly started,' added the woman. 'And as the winner of the last one, you're at the top of their hit list.'

Nicolai hmm'd like this was very surprising, and he was deeply concerned.

'That'd be why we decided to come introduce ourselves,' said the man, smiling and nodding like he'd done Nicolai a favour. 'I'm Pal, she's Jex. Figure we ought to make everyone aware this first round isn't a free for all—it's team on team. We been messaging with everyone else from Earth, too. We all work together, we get through to the next rounds. Then we can have a proper Tournament. There's forty plus of them, and a similar number of us. That means if one side beats the other hard enough, they won't even be able to take part.' Pal grinned with easy charm and spread his hands. 'So, what do you say?'

The dark within Nicolai thrummed, and whispered of treachery. Nicolai didn't need the warning. Treachery was always to be expected. He wondered how many people had been taken in by Pal's friendly grin before.

'Wonderful.' Nicolai clapped his hands. 'I am fully motivated and entirely on-board. My eagerness to work together with my peers is boundless. You can call me Nic.'

'Boundless,' echoed Jex, snorting.

'Join the group,' said Pal, pinging Nicolai an invitation over Local. He grinned. 'See you on the field.' The pair turned and headed away.

The moment he joined he became aware of three dozen others throughout the lobby. His AR lenses and bionic eye linked up with the group software and formed helpful, 3D green arrows above each other member. This integrated with his mapping software to generate a map showing the relative positioning of all members.

Of course, Simulations and Threat Analysis were instantly on the job collating this data, giving him a better, more accurate map and keeping careful track of each individual member of the group. Meanwhile Cyberwarfare utilised the connection to start digging into the private comms of group-members, fishing for information.

As Nicolai suspected, the two who'd approached him were split into their own private chat, one which Cyberwarfare found its way into almost instantly.

'—him,' spoke Pal, satisfaction in his voice. 'That's one less gun to worry about. And you know what… if we play this right, we might be able to use this to remove him as well as the Nara girl.'

'Send them at one another?'

'Exactly. With those two gone, one of us should have this in the bag.'

'Hey, maybe I could take 'em square. That guy just has an anti-mat and a laser, according to Starz info. I can outshoot that.'

'Maybe. Don't forget that Symbiote setup he's got. You saw the clips of Jian.'

She chuckled. 'I didn't tell you what that new Symbiote I found does, did I?'

'You know you haven't. You finally gonna spill?'

'Nah, nah. You'll have to wait and see. It's a surprise, like the thing on Nic's back!'

The man let out a disgruntled sigh, and Nicolai observed him shaking his head, then throwing a light punch at his companion. She ducked away, grinning.

He felt an odd stirring in his chest, a weird warmth, and realised it came from the Mask. Peering closer, he saw that it had decided they were adorable, and it had somehow become invested in whether they were just friends or a couple.

Nicolai snorted. Friendly as they are with one another, they are also experienced and ruthless mercenaries, who we know for a fact plan to betray me, he pointed out, since the Mask appeared to have missed that.

I know, but so what? It's not like you're any different. As you yourself might say—it's not personal. The Mask emanated smugness at this retort.

Nicolai couldn't help but smile. The Mask was learning. True enough.

He got moving. Before the Tournament started, he had one more goal. He was interested in betting on himself, and headed over to a nearby spiritual console. However, he discovered that as a competitor, he was unable to place a bet.

There was a solution to that. He could seek out Wu, or perhaps Starz. But in either case it would require trusting someone with a large amount of money that might become an even larger amount of money. The risk of losing his bet because he lost the Tournament would be added to the risk of being robbed by whoever he trusted with the bet.

A problem he wasn't sure how to solve. Overall, all the risks taken together, he decided against it. Perhaps, once he was able to bring the Infiltrator here, he would gain a method. That reminded him he needed to make a switch, and a check of his Mark revealed the Tournament would start in less than a minute.

His portal sprung open and he stepped through.

When he re-emerged, the Modules within him had once more shifted. Aiming was returned to him, and Legal was now left in the base, taking up the job of keeping an eye on things and creating Yin-Yang Rotation Orbs. He didn't anticipate needing legal assistance in what was to come, but Aiming would be crucial

His Mark thrummed, and a notification sprung from it. He switched his H-gram off as he read through. He didn't expect a human face to be necessary, either.

Registrar: Round 1/5 of Tournament One is beginning.

You must join within 10 seconds or face disqualification from the Tournament.

The first round is: Free For All. All will fight in the same arena. When 32 combatants are left, Combat will end.

Join? (10…)

The shiver of eagerness that rove through his body came as no surprise. He felt the dark shifting, the thrill starting a slow burn. Here it was again.

My purpose.

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