SSS-Rank Skill Copy: I Can Steal Every Class

The competitor lounge was significantly quieter on the second day of the tournament. Only thirty two rookies remained. The weak had been purged leaving only the most ruthless and talented fighters in the room.

Glen sat on a plush leather sofa tossing a silver coin in the air and catching it. His body was fully healed thanks to the Association medics but his mind was restless. He had barely survived Kaelen Vance. He needed to fight smarter today.

Isla walked over carrying two cups of steaming synthetic coffee. She handed one to Glen and sat down next to him.

"You look entirely too relaxed for someone who almost died yesterday" Isla said taking a sip of her coffee.

Glen caught the coin and slipped it into his pocket. He took the coffee and leaned back looking at her. She was wearing her combat duster her heavy runic pistols resting at her hips.

"I am just enjoying the view Sinclair" Glen said his voice casual. "By the way those are very impressive pistols. The rune work on the barrels is incredible. It must take a massive amount of effort to push your mana through them."

Isla did not look at him. "They are standard elemental amplifiers. Nothing special."

Glen took a slow sip of his coffee. "Right. Amplifiers. Because if they were say limiters designed to crush something like a massive S Class ocean of mana down into a tiny A Class stream that would mean you were lying to me. And partners do not lie to each other do they?"

Isla froze. The coffee cup in her hand stopped halfway to her mouth.

She slowly turned her head to look at him. Her piercing green eyes were wide with genuine shock. She had spent years perfecting her disguise. She had fooled the Association examiners. She had fooled the guild masters.

"How long have you known?" Isla whispered her hand instinctively drifting toward her holster.

Glen smiled his dark cocky smirk. He did not reach for his swords. "I figured it out during your match yesterday. Apparently my unique class also allows me to see the shape of a spiritual core. When you pulled the trigger I saw the dam holding the water back, and I must say it is a very impressive dam Sinclair."

Isla stared at him the tension radiating from her body. "Are you going to expose me?"

"Why would I do that?" Glen laughed leaning forward. "I am an F Rank Mimic. You are a talented A Class monster. What is there to expose?"

Isla studied his face searching for any sign of betrayal. She found none. Glen was genuinely amused by the revelation. He did not fear her power he respected the hustle.

Slowly Isla relaxed her hand moving away from her pistol, which was quiet dumb in the first place to imagine that she would have shot him in such a space.

A faint reluctant smile touched the corner of her mouth.

"You are a terrifying person Mcdonald" Isla said shaking her head.

"So are you sweetheart" Glen winked.

"Attention all competitors" the announcer’s voice echoed through the lounge speakers. "Round Two is about to begin. Match One. Glen Mcdonald versus Jarek."

Caleb Sterling wandered over leaning heavily on his wooden staff. He looked at the holographic bracket glowing on the wall.

"Jarek?" Caleb asked rubbing his chin. "I saw that guy in the qualifiers. He is a C Class Swordsman. Barely scraped by in the bottom ten. How did he make it to the second round? And why is he matched against you?"

"The Valor Guild probably ran out of elite assassins" Glen said standing up and stretching his arms. "They are scraping the bottom of the barrel."

"Do not underestimate him" Isla warned her green eyes serious. "If Elias Vance arranged this match he knows something we do not, and I am not your sweetheart."

"For now, and I will be careful" Glen winked again drawing his twin silver swords.

He walked out of the lounge and down the long dark tunnel leading to the arena floor. The roar of the crowd washed over him as he stepped out into the blinding sunlight.

The arena had been repaired overnight the massive craters from Kaelen’s attack filled with fresh white sand.

Standing fifty yards away was his opponent.

Jarek did not look like a Hunter. He wore ragged armor and held a rusted broadsword. He was twitching violently his head snapping back and forth as if he were listening to voices no one else could hear.

Glen narrowed his eyes. Something was wrong.

As Glen stepped closer his Skill Predator core suddenly reacted. It did not pulse with the familiar hunger it felt when sensing a high tier skill. It pulsed with violent territorial aggression. It felt like a wild animal baring its teeth at an invading predator.

Glen focused his vision analyzing Jarek’s mana signature.

It was not blue. It was not crimson. It was pitch black.

Thick black veins pulsed beneath Jarek’s pale skin. The air around the boy smelled like rotting meat and ozone. It was a mana signature that Glen had never felt before. It felt ancient wrong and completely alien to the Awakening system.

"Match One" the announcer boomed. "Begin."

Jarek did not draw his sword. He dropped it into the sand. He threw his head back and let out a scream that sounded like tearing metal.

The black veins on his neck violently expanded bursting through his skin. Thick jagged spikes of black crystal erupted from his shoulders and spine tearing his armor to shreds. His eyes rolled back turning completely pitch black.

The crowd in the stadium screamed in horror. This was not a class skill. This was a mutation.

Up in the VIP suite Vane smiled his bloodless smile. "A fragment of The Lost have entered the arena."

Down on the sand Glen tightened his grip on his swords. The demonic energy radiating from Jarek was suffocating. It was heavier than Evander’s dragon aura.

"Well" Glen whispered his dark smirk fading into a look of cold absolute focus. "This just got interesting."