“And now... the fight you’ve all be waiting for. Catgirl of Doom versus Deacon the Dragon!” The announcer was much more enthusiastic as he called out this one, and it was met with resounding cheers.


    The excitement and crowds around various matches had slowly increased as I edged up the ranking. My extreme speed had caught many people’s interest. They wondered just who I was, and the story we sold was that I was someone being trained by Bernice. This was enough to get everyone to accept it, although my ability to make a profit off my wins had tanked once everyone realized my true rank had yet to be revealed.


    After nearly a week of fighting, I finally stood opposite of her on the same stage. Her hair was black, and by all appearance, she seemed to be an unremarkable black catkin with no variant. However, how could I forget the body of the woman I had spent so many intimate nights with. If it came to any girl, it would be Lydia who I knew best. This woman stood like her, moved like her, and looked like her. I would have confirmed it with God and Evil Eye that moment, but while it wasn’t explicitly banned in underground tournaments, Bernice said I would lose the crowd and breed hostile if I relied on such cheap tricks.


    That meant that the only way to confirm my suspicions was to rip off her mask and remove all doubt!


    “Begin!”