Chapter 102: Selection Match Begins

Chapter 102: Selection Match BeginsChapter 102

With no better plan in sight, Han and the rest reluctantly agreed to follow Laura’s itinerary for the day. Thankfully, she hadn’t planned anything overly wild—just some wholesome family activities. There was a bit of casual shopping, a friendly game of ball toss, storytelling under the shade, and snacks shared under the open sky. It was the kind of day most families dream of: laughter echoing through the air, soft grass underfoot, and the kind of peace that felt almost foreign in their usually chaotic lives.

As part of her "family bonding list," Laura insisted that everyone take turns telling jokes.

Aiden was up first—and to no one’s surprise—he had the group in tears of laughter within seconds. His humor was ridiculous, exaggerated, and utterly infectious. Even the ever-stoic Clara chuckled through her nose.

When it was Clara’s turn, her jokes weren’t as belly-achingly funny as Aiden’s, but they carried a touch of sarcasm and maturity that earned a few smirks and polite applause.

Then came Ronan.

Laura gave him a playful glare and gestured for him to take the floor. He groaned.

"I don’t do comedy," he muttered. Searᴄh the Novelƒire(.)ne*t website on Google to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

"That’s what makes it funnier," Laura teased.

Sighing, Ronan rose and began telling what he believed were jokes. But instead of humor, his tales were riddled with tragic irony, dark twists, and the kind of endings that could haunt dreams. By the time he finished, a few of the younger kids in the group had started sniffling. One even burst into tears.

"That wasn’t funny, that was a ghost story!" someone yelled.



Ronan just shrugged. "Reality is a cruel joke."

Despite that odd detour, they managed to complete everything on Laura’s list. To everyone’s surprise, the day turned out to be... wonderful. Full of laughter, warmth, and moments that felt like something out of a memory. That night, they all returned to their rooms and drifted into deep sleep, their hearts full and their minds clear.

Tomorrow, however, would be anything but calm.

---

The morning sun broke through the clouds, casting light over the grand city as Han and the rest made their way to the colossal arena where the Tournament of Power would take place. The structure was nothing short of legendary—an architectural marvel capable of holding over a million spectators without a single one feeling cramped. The size alone was intimidating.

Crowds flowed toward the entrance like rivers converging on a sea. People of all types filled the streets: nobles in fine robes, warriors in armor, commoners, children, veterans, and wandering mercenaries. All races and ranks mingled freely in anticipation. Some had come to watch, others to fight.

Han’s eyes sparkled as he scanned the crowd. The energy was electric. He could feel it pulsing in the air, like a storm on the horizon. He couldn’t help but smile.

"Maybe," he thought, "I’ll finally meet someone worth fighting."

But elsewhere in the crowd—just a few meters away—another figure was lost in a similar thought. A man with long black hair and a faint scar on his jaw. Blending seamlessly into the mass of people, his eyes scanned the area, not stopping on Han even once.

Let there be someone here strong enough to make me go all out, he thought calmly.

Had Laura seen him, she would have recognized him immediately.

Jay.

The spectators were eventually guided to their seats inside the arena, where a massive podium dominated the stage. The murmurs quieted as several elite figures walked onto the platform—each one radiating power and authority. These were the hosts of the Tournament of Power.

The Undying Flame – Ranked 3.

The Beast – Ranked 2.

Lord Tech – Ranked 4.

Sword Blitz – Ranked 5.

Buster – Ranked 7.

Notably, a few of the top Class S warriors were missing, but no one questioned it out loud. When the Beast’s gaze briefly landed on someone in the audience, his expression darkened for just a heartbeat before looking away. That moment didn’t go unnoticed by a few sharp-eyed participants.

Jon, seated near Rin, let out a relieved sigh when the beast averted his gaze. He wasn’t here just to sit and watch—he wanted to experience the thrill.

Lord Tech, apparently chosen as the spokesperson for the hosts, stepped forward and grabbed the microphone.

"Welcome," he said, his voice calm and confident. "The Tournament of Power begins today. This isn’t just about strength—this is a test of will, wit, and resilience. Victory will earn you fame, honor, and, as promised, the full rewards for the top ranks—no delays, no excuses."

The crowd erupted into cheers.

After all, most of them were here for the prizes, the recognition, and the chance to climb the ranks. Of course, there were always a few... who had other, darker motives.

Meanwhile, beside Han, a sudden cracking sound made him glance sideways.

Ronan stood there, his knuckles popping as he clenched and unclenched his fists, eyes locked on someone below among the Class S heroes. His entire body trembled with a deep, restrained fury.

Han followed his gaze and saw who he was looking at.

Buster.

"It’s him, Han," Ronan said, voice tight and trembling. "It’s him."

That monster—Buster—stood there as if he belonged, heralded as one of humanity’s protectors.

Ronan had trained endlessly, endured brutal trials, survived hardships that would break most men—all for one reason: to become strong enough to take revenge. For his family. For his master. For everyone he’d lost. And now, the monster behind all of that pain stood calmly among humanity’s so-called protectors.

Ronan’s hands clenched harder, his knuckles turning white.

Then—a hand on his shoulder.

"Trust me, I know how you feel," Han said quietly. "But we can’t act now. Not here. Not with so many eyes on us."

Ronan trembled for a moment, then slowly nodded. He knew Han was right.

Suddenly, a translucent message flashed before his eyes.

Just then, a transparent message flickered in front of him.

[New Main Quest Received]

Quest: Avenge the Fallen — Kill Buster

Reward: ?????



Ronan’s eyes widened. This was the first time he’d ever received a quest with a hidden reward. The system never hid rewards—unless the stakes were beyond comprehension.

Quest or not... Ronan already knew what he had to do. The moment the time was right, he would end Buster.

As if sensing the murderous intent aimed his way, Buster slowly turned. His eyes landed directly on Ronan... then shifted to Han. He studied them for a few seconds before looking away, clearly not recognizing either of them.

Han’s breath hitched—not because of Buster’s gaze, but because his own system suddenly chimed in with a message.

[Main Quest Triggered]

A Dire Natural Enemy Has Been Found.

Quest: Take Down the Enemy Before He Develops

Reward: 200,000 Creation Points

Han blinked. Once. Twice. Then rapidly, reading the message again and again.

What the hell?

He was seeing Buster in person for the first time, yet the system had already classified him as a natural enemy—one of the most dangerous and critical threats possible. But what truly stunned him wasn’t the label.

It was the reward.

Two hundred thousand Creation Points.

That was insane.

Before he could process it further, a voice broke the tension.

"You okay?"

Han turned to find Drake standing there, wearing the same gentle smile he always had. He radiated a peaceful aura—almost saint-like.

There was never anything off about him. Even Clara’s extensive scans and background research had turned up absolutely nothing suspicious.

"You’ll be starting soon," Drake said pleasantly.

Han nodded slowly, still distracted.

Lord Tech’s speech was wrapping up. The tournament would begin any moment now.

"Good luck," Drake said. "But be careful of those two."

He pointed toward the far end of the arena.

Han looked—and spotted them.

A boy and a girl, both with short black hair, both expressionless and still as statues. Something about them was... off.

"Who are they?" Han asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Those two?" Drake replied with that same easy smile. "Argon and Kalen. We call them the Smashers. They’re Buster’s personal attack force. They don’t look like much, but trust me—they’re lethal."

Han’s expression hardened. The fact that they were tied to Buster was enough to keep his guard up around them.

"Good luck in the tournament," Drake said, patting Han’s back lightly before walking away.

Han watched his figure disappear into the crowd. For some reason, he couldn’t shake the feeling that Drake was too perfect. Too clean. And from what the old elder had taught him, the ones who look like saints... are often the most dangerous of all.

But no matter how long Han studied him, he couldn’t find a single flaw.

Not yet, at least.

Lord Tech finally concluded his opening speech, his voice echoing across the massive arena. Then, with a wave of his hand, thousands of glowing shards shot into the air—twinkling in four different colors as they rained down toward the participants.

Each contestant instinctively caught one.

Han looked at his shard. It shimmered with a vivid red hue. Around him, others examined theirs—blue, pink and golds .

Four colors. Four paths.

The thousands of participants stood in anticipation as Lord Tech raised his hand once more to address them.

"Only sixteen of you will qualify to enter the Tournament of Power," he announced. "From thousands, we must reduce the number. And we will do that... through the Selection Match."

Behind him, four massive glowing portals began to hum and spin to life. Each one pulsed with the same colors as the shards—red, blue, pink, and gold.

"These portals," Lord Tech continued, "will transport you to isolated battlefields—each one far from civilization. Inside, your task is simple."



He raised a single finger.

"Break as many opponents’ shards as you can."

Murmurs rippled through the crowd.

"The more shards you shatter, the higher your standing. Each portal will host its own free-for-all. Only four participants from each color zone will emerge victorious—leaving us with the final sixteen."

His gaze swept across the crowd.

"Now... step into the portal matching your shard."

Han gripped his red shard tightly and stepped forward. Around him, others surged toward their corresponding portals—thousands moving as one.

One by one, the contestants entered the spiraling lights of fate. Han crossed the threshold of the red portal—and it closed behind him with a thunderous hum.

Moments later, four massive screens materialized high above the stage, each labeled with one of the portal colors. The names of all participants within each portal flickered into place.

And then—

"Let the Selection for the Tournament of Power... begin!" Lord Tech’s voice rang out across the skies.

To be continued.....