The stadium battle began with thunder, even though the sky was clear.
Portals opened above the seats, and monsters dropped like rotten rain. Giant birds with blade wings. Crawlers with human hands. Armored apes beating their chests hard enough to shake the scoreboard. Thousands of players packed the safe zone lines while Serena stood at midfield, silver spear raised, her S-rank shining bright enough to calm the panic.
I entered through a side tunnel as an F-rank, carrying a bucket of nacho cheese.
Riley had insisted the bucket was important. He had reinforced it with slime resin, turning it into a sticky trap. He did not explain why it still smelled like nachos. Some mysteries deserve to survive.
Grace moved through the upper seats, watching for suspicious players. She had no interest in being my sidekick. That was fine. I did not want a sidekick. I wanted witnesses.
Owen's first move was clever. He did not attack Serena. He released frightened F-ranks from a tunnel under the visitor seats, all of them marked with weak stun curses. They stumbled into the open right as a flock of blade birds dove.
Serena had to choose between the flying monsters heading for the crowd and the helpless players under the seats. A simple hero would rush to the weak. A smart villain would have traps waiting there.
I was neither simple nor a hero. I was already in the tunnel.
Fake F glowing, nacho bucket in hand, I walked toward the source of the curse marks while everyone above screamed.
Two players hiding in the tunnel saw me and grinned. One whispered that another stray had wandered in. They had dark hoods, low visible ranks, and weapons that looked too expensive for their act. Owen's people.
I pretended to panic and ran deeper into the tunnel. They followed. Bad choice.
The first one threw a dagger that pinned my sleeve to the wall. Red sparks flashed, because the blade had been aimed to injure. The second lunged with a stun baton.
I turned, dumped the entire bucket of reinforced nacho cheese on the floor, and shadow stepped into the shadow under the yellow mess. When the two rushed over it, the slime resin grabbed their boots. I appeared behind them, revealed S, and slapped both heads together with enough force to make the tunnel lights flicker.
But I did not knock them out. I let them yell.
Their panic brought more. Four more hidden players came from a maintenance door. All attacked the fake F before their brains caught up. Red marks bloomed in the tunnel like poisonous flowers. I flickered back to F every time a new one arrived, giving them the comfort of an easy target right before I removed it.
Then I used the chain blade.
The tunnel became a blender drawn by an artist who loved motion lines. Black crescents carved through weapons. Afterimages struck walls. Sparks flew, and the reinforced cheese held ankles like a monster with dairy issues. I kicked one player into a popcorn cart, chained another to the ceiling pipes, and shadow stepped behind a third just to whisper that his shoe was untied before dropping him.
Above us, Serena split the sky with her spear. Below, I turned Owen's ambush into a comedy special.
When the red marked players were down, I dragged them toward the field entrance and threw them one by one into the light. The stadium crystal sensed them instantly. Chains shot across the grass and pulled them into floating cells near the scoreboard.
The crowd saw everything. Serena saw everything.
And somewhere in the stadium, Owen saw his first move fail.
That was when he finally spoke. Not to me. Directly through the speakers.
His voice was calm, amused, and close enough to friendly that it made my skin itch. He praised Serena for saving everyone. He praised the crowd for surviving. Then he said one red marked villain had slipped into the player shelters disguised as an F-rank.
Every screen in the stadium flickered. My face appeared. My fake F-rank glowed above it.
For one second, the crowd turned on me.
That was Owen's real weapon. Not daggers. If he could make the crowd think I was the threat, someone would attack me. If I fought back too hard in front of everyone, I would look like the monster. If I did nothing, his people could move again.
It was a good trap. I admired it for almost three seconds.
Then I ruined it.