At 7:45 a.m., the crowd's noise hit him like a wall of jeers and mocking laughter.
"What's that sick boy coming to do at the platform?"
"He's half dead, not sick."
"I'm sure he's been rejected by his own family. If not, he wouldn't come here seeking death."
"I thought he was just among the cleaners; how come he's walking toward the death pit?"
"I think he must have something good in him. Let's see how his body gets torn apart mercilessly."
The audience's voices echoed so loudly it made Leon become highly confused about what he was about to do.
He doubted himself the moment he neared the platform itself, causing his legs to hang in the air for a while before he placed them down, one after the other.
'Should I just quit? Nah, I have to try.' He thought and shook his head in response to his own question.
The silver lines on the platform glowed faintly beneath his feet, humming with energy that felt both alien and familiar.
The barrier shimmered into place, sealing him in.
'Why does the platform itself feel pressurized?' Leon thought as he whirled around.
His stomach lurched as he saw the same guy he had helped before entering the gate leading to the platform.
'Is he my first opponent?' Leon's thought screamed as the barrier sealed the boy in, letting them prepare before the signal came.
"You're too generous, but I'm not generous. I will make sure I make you feel proud," the boy shouted and pointed a finger toward Leon.
Leon could feel the weight in his words. It wasn't the kind used to make someone feel proud, as he claimed; instead, it was the kind used to lure someone into something sinister.
"What level are you?" the boy's voice boomed as he walked toward Leon at a slow pace. But Leon kept moving back, sensing the orange blaze in the boy's eyes.
"Aren't you at any level? I'm sorry—I thought you were at least an awakened." As the boy's words died down, he shook his head, but his grim smile never faded.
"Don't worry; just kneel and beg me so I can make it quick for you." He stretched his hands in the air and cried out in joy.
Leon trembled as the audience began to cheer for the boy's actions. Nothing was more sinister than what was before him.
Not the crowd, not the boy, but the platform's automatic killing mechanism.
'Should I do as he says? But wait, if I do that, it means I will be taken out of the trial, through death.' Leon's thoughts echoed so hard sweat began to bead on his face.
"Why are you running? Just let me make it quick for you." The boy laughed and snapped his fingers.
As the sound died down, a spark of light erupted and hovered on his fingertips. It resembled the spark Leon had held on his fingers. But this was stronger and hotter than what Leon had.
"When you came to me at first, I saw something in you. Why are you running? Or was it just death that I saw in you?"
He flipped the finger holding the spark. Then, in that instant, the spark surged toward Leon like a meteorite.
Leon clung against the barrier, frozen as he stared at the light rushing toward him. But as he focused on the intensity of the light itself, he saw something that seemed to be making the fire lag.
The moment that had seemed like Leon's death was at hand, the fire vanished as it neared him, leaving only the vapors it carried.
Laughter surged among the audience, followed by insults.
"Ah, how would a level-two awakened student think of using fire, or even use a technique that a level four like me can't even generate?"
"But did you see the look in the boy—what's his name?—in his eyes?"
"I'm sure he pooped himself seeing that tiny fire coming to crush him on the wall."
Their words erupted so loudly it made Leon regret even accepting the envelope in the first place.
But even with the words echoing around the sealed platform, the fire-breathing boy didn't stop. He threw countless sparks, but all vanished the moment they reached Leon.
"Why are you still running away? Why don't you fight back?" the boy screamed after failing to land a single spark on Leon.
The platform blazed as the fire kept pulsing. But through it all, Leon only ran. The countdown came in.
[5 minutes]
Seeing the countdown and the points allocated to the boy, Leon's heart skipped, causing his mind to recall Mr. Lee's final words: Even if you won't fight, make sure the points are equal.
Then, in that instant, a foolish courage surged in Leon, triggering him to drive toward the boy.
The moment Leon neared him, he clenched his fist and gave him a dirty punch. The punch, which looked frail, sent the boy into the barrier.
Yet, the crowd hurled insults—not at the boy, but at Leon.
"That's just a child's play. Fight like a man next time."
"If that's your strength, then I suggest you just vanish, because you'd be dead before you move to your third opponent."
"Yeah. Vanish from the platform, and from Alchemania."
"Your presence alone is like a pill that doesn't cure any disease."
"Make sure you're fully prepared, and stronger than what you just showed. Else, I will crunch you like snacks."
As Leon whirled around trying to catch their faces, the boy surged toward him. But the moment the boy's fist touched Leon's jaw, the message came.
[Timeout]
[Draw Match]
The strike shook Leon's bones so deeply he felt a tooth move out of place as he flew against the opened barrier and crashed to the floor outside it.
Slowly, he rose from the floor, cleaned himself, and moved toward the platform's exit, but the moment he reached the door, Mr. Lee countered him mid-step.