Chapter Seventy-Eight: I Am a Summoner

As Eliot uttered those words, several onlookers who knew his strength cast pitying glances at Wang Ling: "This kid is finished!"

Due to the restrictions on team formation within the Dreamspace, very few dreamers in the beginner zone could assemble a proper team. The Orc Team was not the strongest, but certainly formidable. Its captain had once inherited a fortune in the Lord of the Rings world on GBA, which enabled him to establish such a large team.

Visak, captain of the Orc Team, obtained a fragment of the White Wizard Saruman's research notes from the storyline of Lord of the Rings I. This crucial item taught him the method for concocting the strong orc gene serum. Thanks to this serum, Visak attracted numerous powerful individuals to join his team. Eliot, ranked second in strength in such a team, possessed formidable defenses, terrifying vitality, and even additional bloodline abilities.

Dreamers with bloodlines were exceedingly rare!

A novice dreamer who had only completed two mainline missions now had to face a seasoned dreamer with a bloodline. The duel was inherently unfair. Since it was a fight to the death, the masked child had no outcome except death—regular duels ended when one party surrendered, but a deathmatch allowed only one survivor.

Wang Ling, standing amidst the crowd’s mortuary gaze, sneered inwardly.

The group left the entertainment district and entered the dueling arena. Bai Feng still held Wang Ling’s hand tightly, attracting a growing crowd with their presence; by the time they reached the arena, over six hundred people had gathered—a tenth of the beginner zone’s population!

Wang Ling cursed silently, and Eliot’s expression soured. Displaying one’s abilities in front of so many dreamers was dangerous: exposing all skills and trump cards would put him at a disadvantage in future missions if enemies knew his power.

In fact, one-on-one duels could be set as secret battles, invisible to others. But with Bai Feng present, wanting to witness the fight, they had no choice but to make it public.

Wang Ling reconsidered—after all, he wore a mask. Even those who’d memorized his appearance in the entertainment district would be few. Moreover, this might be a perfect opportunity to spread false information about his actual strength.

Meanwhile, Eliot’s mood eased, realizing that dealing with a rookie like Wang Ling wouldn’t require any real power. Killing him in the arena would not only please Bai Feng but also earn fame in front of so many spectators—a win-win situation!

Upon reaching the dueling arena, the three used the facility’s terminal to draft a contract. The terms were simple: Wang Ling agreed to a fight to the death with Eliot. If Wang Ling won, Bai Feng would be subjected to his defilement—though “once” was hard to define, so the actual clause stipulated that if Wang Ling emerged victorious, Bai Feng would be at his disposal for one hour, unable to resist mentally.

Of course, everyone considered the contract a joke. Bai Feng signed with a cold smile, then traded a round stone, faintly glowing with enchanting light, to Eliot: “I’m not used to owing favors. This rare E-grade summoning stone can summon a familiar directly. It’s my thanks for killing him. After this, we owe each other nothing.”

Summoning stones were among the most precious of rare items. This one, being E-grade, could only summon an E-grade familiar—weak ones comparable to Chestnut Boy, and strong ones at best like Williams, the minor boss in Double Dragon. Bai Feng, proud and ambitious, looked down on familiars of such strength, unwilling to waste one of her three slots.

Eliot, however, was ecstatic upon receiving it; even distant spectators showed envy—familiars were incredibly hard to come by!

“My thanks, Lady Bai Feng. The upcoming performance will surely satisfy you.” Eliot stored the stone in his spatial pouch, secretly pleased with his actions. He turned to Wang Ling with a sinister grin: “Kid, let’s get started. I think everyone’s eager to see the show.”

Wang Ling shrugged, not replying, but a cold smile surfaced beneath the golden-red mask. He wasn’t so easily killed!

The dueling arena wasn’t a boxing ring nor a coliseum with seats encircling a central pit. Instead, it was a small enclosed space, like a scene card from Kung Fu—combatants could select the terrain beforehand. Terrain could introduce many variables, since dreamers had different attribute distributions; fighting in a fixed environment was inherently unfair.

They ignored options like jungle, swamp, or desert, finally settling on a gently sloping hillside.

With a flash of light, Wang Ling and Eliot were transported to the arena. As it was a public duel, the outside screens displayed a holographic projection for all spectators.

Among the crowd, some had initially hoped for an interesting outcome. After all, Wang Ling’s golden-red mask was dazzling and gave him the aura of an anime villain, enhancing his mystique. But upon learning he’d only completed two mainline missions, their interest vanished.

How strong could a dreamer with just two missions be? Admittedly, some exceptional dreamers could rival veterans after four or five missions, but two was hardly enough to develop.

Facing the seasoned Eliot of the Orc Team, this poor child was doomed—that was the consensus of all six hundred spectators. The only suspense was how many seconds Wang Ling would last against Eliot’s attack.

Not minutes, not exchanges—seconds.

Some dreamers glanced regretfully at Wang Ling’s mask. In the mission worlds, defensive gear was rare, masks even rarer. This mask was stylish and surely valuable. Sadly, after the deathmatch, it would likely fall into Eliot’s hands.

Transmitted onto the hillside, Wang Ling found himself under a blue sky, white clouds drifting, a refreshing breeze blowing, with short trees rooted in the slope’s earth.

He saw Eliot about two hundred meters away, wielding a massive machete.

The blade was genuine Damascus steel, one hundred ten centimeters long, its edge gleaming cold blue in the sunlight. In the real world, such blades were lost to history, but Dreamspace missions traversed many worlds.

This D-grade blue weapon, the Damascus machete, had been procured by the captain from the intermediate zone, originating from the GBA Metal Slug world—it was wielded by the self-destructing Arabs in stage two. Using it against Wang Ling was like “using an ox-cleaver to slaughter a chicken.”

Actually, Eliot’s team wealth could afford him a C-grade blue weapon. Yet most C-grade gear had requirements he couldn’t meet, being specialized in stamina. Thus, he chose this high-damage D-grade blue weapon to boost his attack.

Eliot was cautious. Wang Ling’s eager agreement to duel could mean ignorance—or hidden trump cards. So, even against such an opponent, Eliot drew his weapon first, intending to cut him down swiftly, without exposing his skills or bloodline powers.

He swung the machete at a nearby tree as thick as a bowl. Silver-blue light flashed, and the tree was cleaved cleanly in two—the weapon was incredibly sharp! Having created psychological pressure, Eliot began ascending the slope toward Wang Ling.

Wang Ling, confronted by the approaching white man, produced no weapon—instead, three balls of white light flashed beside him. A mop-haired dwarf, only 1.5 meters tall and scrawny; a burly brute, two meters tall with bulging muscles; and a massive hippie, 1.75 meters tall and hugely obese appeared in front of him.

Thirty points of spiritual energy spent—the super Dark Fighter summoning skill from Linda’s badge was activated.

Outside, the dreamers stirred. Many had experienced the Double Dragon world and recognized the trio’s attire: Mophead, Brute, Hippie. Yet their forms were clearly mutated and enhanced!

The crowd wondered how Wang Ling could control them. No one had heard of Dark Fighters from Double Dragon being brought out, let alone mutated versions. Were they familiars or summoned characters?

Eliot’s expression changed instantly. He realized Wang Ling’s confidence stemmed from these three subordinates. Their unusual forms suggested they were formidable. He immediately charged up the slope!

Wang Ling stood behind his summoned trio, the corners of his mouth curling beneath the mask. In his hand appeared a card, simply decorated, bearing the characters for “Kung Fu.”

(Hmm, next week this book will be strongly promoted. The recommendation votes haven’t reached ten thousand yet; please vote! There’s a lot to write—Contra, Metal Slug, Harvest Moon, King of Fighters, all the worlds everyone loves. As the protagonist grows, new worlds, new battles, new forces, new heroines will appear. Right now, it’s only the beginner zone, but the story will get ever more exciting. Please support and make this book better and better! Thanks from Huahua!)

(Also, tomorrow there will be a surprise... What? You think it’s pushing Bai Feng as the heroine? You’re too naive... The surprise will be revealed in tomorrow’s second chapter.)