The crowd roared as Benor rushed me. He was leaning too far forward to attempt a punch, and I realized he was going for a takedown. I spun to the side, dodging him easily, and the burly guy almost tripped and fell to the floor.

  He snarled in frustration and lunged forward, this time with a fist leading the way, but I saw it coming with time to spare and stepped back out of range. This was too easy. Anyone could beat this guy. He telegraphed his moves so obviously that even a blind person could anticipate his attacks.

  There was no way my opponent was this bad at fighting. This had to be the effects of my new skill. I was experiencing the heightened awareness from Close Combat Specialist. It was like I had the Force, albeit temporarily. For me, it was a game-changer.

  I didn’t know how long my precognition would last, so I decided to make quick work of this. He jabbed at me twice, and I knew the hook was coming next. With a clean backstep, I dodged it and followed it up with a straight of my own.

  The blow stunned him, and I figured if it worked once, I might as well keep doing it, so I hit him with three more straights. He blocked the fourth and tried to bring me to the ground again but was dazed and failed to get me to the floor. I elbowed him hard in the back, and he fell to his knees. Instead of finishing him, I stepped back, giving him time to get up.

  This charity earned me some boos from the crowd.

  Benor spat blood and waved his hand in the air, “Hell no, I yield.”

  The onlookers cheered and booed in unison.

  I waved at the crowd, and my eyes found Master Roan. “Whose up next?”

  “Let’s find out.” He held his arms out to the crowd again. “Who among you will test our new brother? You’ve had a chance to see how he handles himself. Measure yourself against what you have just seen, if you believe yourself to be a worthy test, step forward.”

  A section of the crowd began to part, and a woman emerged into the ring. She had a medium, athletic build and wore brown trousers. The sleeves on her off-white woolen shirt were rolled up, and her dark hair curved around her face, framing it like a portrait.

  I smiled at her. She was cute and was probably going to kick my ass.

  “What’s your name?” I asked.

  “Minna,” she said as she raised her fists.

  Master Roan signaled for the match to begin, and we started the slow process of evaluating and testing our opponent. We circled each other, and I threw out some quick jabs as she tested my range.

  Not wanting to prolong this, I made the first move. I faked a jab with my left hand and sent a hard kick into the meat of her thigh, but before it could connect, Minna raised her leg and tilted it against my strike, effectively deflecting the blow.

  That’s when she hit me for the first time. It was just a jab, but it caught me by surprise and forced me to scramble back as she attempted to land more hits.

  This wasn’t anything like the last fight. My Close Combat Specialist skill wasn’t active right now. I had no idea if it was on a recharge or what. All I knew was that I could never rely on it to save me.

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  I managed to mostly block a flurry of quick blows to my body and decided enough was enough. I lunged forward to grab her. She landed a hard right, but I was in close enough to wrap my arms around her. I spun hard and tossed her to the ground. Instead of smacking into the rough floor, she rolled with the throw and ended up back on her feet.

  She winked at me and came at me again. Her right arm was extended back like she was ready to throw a punch, but I noticed her left hand make a fist. I intuitively knew the right would be a feint, and the real attack would come from the left.

  Close Combat Specialist had kicked in!

  She went for the feint with her right, and instead of staying defensive like she was expecting me to, I charged forward and shoulder-tackled her. We fell to the ground, her landing on the hard stone floor with me atop her.

  I mounted her, ready to strike, but she was gasping for breath and in no condition to defend herself. I hopped off her and helped her sit up, so she could catch her breath. I’ve had the breath knocked out of me on more than one occasion, and the experience can be debilitating.

  Roan came forward and announced, “I formally concede this fight on Minna’s behalf. The win goes to John!”

  I pumped my fist, but it lacked enthusiasm. Without getting lucky with Close Combat Specialist, Minna would have beaten me.

  Minna’s breath returned not long after I was declared the winner. I thought she would be angry with me, but she slapped me gently on the face and said, ‘Never met a man who could take my breath away like that.’ The smile she gave me was playful and knowing and challenging. Minna was good in my book.

  After she returned to the crowd, Roan and I were again alone in the ring. I looked for Ersabet and found her behind me, arms crossed and surrounded by fellow Hunters. She looked annoyed until she caught my eye and gave me a supportive nod.

  “John has overcome the second tier of this test,” Roan said to the crowd. “Now, let’s see if he can do what few Hunters can. Let’s see if John can win a fight against one of our strongest.”

  I turned my eyes to the other side of the ring, and a dark-skinned Kurskin stepped forward. He had a slight emerald tint to his dark scales.

  Well, this wasn’t fair at all—or at least it wouldn’t be if I were an NPC. The average Kurskin could easily dominate a human. I wondered if he would cheat and use his in-game powers. If he did, I would be tempted to return the favor.

  “What’s your name?” I asked him.

  “Djadja Ardja. Welcome to the Hunters, John. You have fought valiantly, but your ascent ends here. You’ve already proven yourself capable in the previous fights. Yield now and feel no shame for it. There’s no need to push any further. You may get hurt.”

  I looked him up and down distastefully. “I think if I can take on you, there’s no monster in this world I couldn’t handle.”

  That earned me some cheers from the humans in the room and a scowl from Djadja.

  Roan called for the round to begin. I put my guard up, and Djadja walked casually forward like he didn’t have a care in the world. It pissed me off, and I thought about using Devastating Strike, but I wasn’t ready to show these people that there was something different about me.

  Instead of using Simple Distraction, I just took a note from it. I let my guard down and looked curiously at something behind him. Somehow, my stupid trick worked, and he turned his head. I swear, people always fall for it. Anyway, the moment he did, I dashed for him and threw a punch as hard as I could.

  With incredible speed, his left forearm shot up and blocked the blow; his tough, scaly skin destroyed my knuckles in the process. The pain was nearly unbearable, but he made a move and knew he was about to send his right fist into my gut.

  I leaped back and to the left before he could attack and tried to shake the pain out of my hand. It didn’t work.

  “If that trick is the best you have,” Djadja said with a twinkle of joy in his eyes. “It’s best you yield now.”

  I could sense that Close Combat Specialist was still active, so I replied with an attack. He easily dodged my flurry of blows, deflecting one with his scaled wrist, which hurt like a bitch.

  He saw an opening for an attack. His back foot braced onto the stone floor before kicking out at my hip.

  As he attacked, I stepped inward and grabbed hold of his leg. I let its momentum add to my own, and I spun him halfway around and launched him a solid five feet across the room. I say ‘solid’ because Djadja was a heavy son of a gun.

  He punched the floor and stood up—no more twinkle in his eyes. I embarrassed him. I smiled, raised my fists, and taunted him forward.

  He rushed at me, and I dodged his first punch. A second later, I was lying on the cold stone floor, thoroughly unconscious.