After finalizing my Class selection, we navigated deeper into the heart of Manny's Town. I didn't actually need to buy any supplies or gear, but there was something I wanted, or more accurately, someone.
The sound of a heavy wooden table splintering echoed from a corner near one of the larger taverns, followed by the roar of a crowd. Even though the town was a strict 'No Fight Zone', the system permitted formal duels between individuals under very specific restrictions. I pushed through the growing circle of spectators to find two figures squared off in the dirt.
It was a duel between a man and a teen. The older fighter was a mountain of a man with black hair and broad, corded muscles that made his movements look like shifting tectonic plates. He was easily overpowering his opponent, a red-haired teenager with a much slimmer build. 'Slim' wasn't quite the right word, the kid wasn't skinny by any means, he was just dwarfed by the massive frame of the veteran warrior.
Back in the VR game, this exact duel happened in every single account I ever opened. For most players, it was just background noise, a bit of NPC flavor text that served no real purpose and was promptly ignored. Even now that the 'Tower of Trials' had manifested into reality, the duel remained nothing more than a momentary spectacle for the passing Rankers.
I had treated it the same way myself for a long time. However, after about ten accounts, I noticed a pattern that piqued my curiosity. While the NPC playing the older man changed with every new game cycle, the red-haired kid remained constant. He was always there, always fighting, and always losing.
It took me twenty-seven accounts of extensive research, reading every scrap of lore, and completing obscure side quests to piece together his story. In this current timeline, he was nothing more than a teenager with no family and no memory of his past. The only thing he possessed was his name and an obsessive, burning desire to prove he was the best. That singular instinct was the only anchor his mind had left.
"Hmm? I have never seen that person before, but he has a very peculiar smell to him," Melchior chimed in, his voice sounding thoughtful as he studied the red-haired boy.
"You're right Mel, he does have a peculiar quality about him, doesn't he?" I replied, the corners of my mouth twitching upward.
"This bastard... I will never get accustomed to that evil smile of yours," Melchior added with a huff. I suppose I did have a certain look when I was planning something, but my focus remained on the boy.
"[Activating 'Red Demon's Eye' Lvl 3!]"
I focused my gaze, letting my skill peel back the layers of the boy's identity.
"[Personal Information]"
- [Name: Leonhart Francis]
- [Age: ??? | Gender: Male | Sex: Experienced]
- [Class: Support | Rank: ???]
- [Species: Tower-Resident | Level: ???]
- [Stats: STR: 10 | AGI: 10 | VIT: 10 | PER: 10 | Essence: Prana Lvl ???]
- [Exclusive Skill: ????]
- [Skills: ??????]
- [Anatomical Stats: 9 inches thick, dark and veiny dick. Soft pinkish, tight and hairy asshole.]
- [Copy Conditions: Due to a lack of information on the character, a copy condition is not yet available.]
As I expected, the information stored in the current Tower System's Timeline was almost non-existent. His Stats appeared to be the bare minimum, which meant that I was likely the only person in the world who knew the true potential of the boy standing in the dirt. In the far future, on the highest floors, this boy would become a literal force of nature. If I wanted to conquer the Tower again and deal with the 'Supreme Beings' at the top, Leonhart Francis was an absolute necessity.
The duel ended exactly as history predicted, with Leonhart flat on his back, completely defeated in a physical sense. Spiritually, however, he was still a roaring furnace as he screamed at the older man, claiming he would be the one to win the next time they met. The older man and the onlookers just laughed, treating him like a piece of cheap entertainment and a persistent joke.
I stepped away from the crowd and began to approach him as he wiped the blood and dirt from his face. It was time to make my move.