What A Dream Wants

His battle was over. He could go back to the dorms and sleep.

Yet, here he was, still watching these battles.

Perhaps it was because the side-stands served free food.

An array of steaming foods: hot dogs, burgers, chicken drumsticks, french fries, popcorn and more.

Or maybe it was because...

Okay, fine. That was the reason why he was still here. Who would give up an opportunity to eat free food? Especially considering the expenses of living alone. Indeed, Steven was doing it all for the economic benefit!

Then again, it wasn't real food, so he sort of wasn't eating anything... so he wasn't really saving money...

At least, the food was still tasty. During the lunch break, he had to pay for his own food in the nearby restaurants, and having to pay for lunch wasn't as satisfying as getting free lunch. Plus, it has 0 calories. Simple logic. Win-win.

He scrolled on through his PineRaft inventory (the one with the storage slots and crafting) for a while, before deciding to check out the school website.

Normally, he would have to scan in his ID, but the interface was already in his account.

The website interface was quite sleek and easy to use. He tapped on the Freshmen Duel icon.

A list of videos appeared in sequential order, along with live footage. In the top right corner, he could switch between the two arenas. He decided to look at the other arena since he had practically seen all the battles in this arena (other than the ones he missed because he fell asleep).

Steven could teleport there, but he decided that he would rather just stay here and watch the footage. He skimmed a few video titles, before noticing a video with nobody* in it.

[Nobody*- Steven's nickname for Zero.]

He opened the video. After all, he was curious about nobody's power!

Nobody was facing off somebody.

Nobody just stood there until the other person made a move. Rushing up, his opponent immediately went in for a hook, which Zero blocked with another punch. They exchanged flurries of punches, kicks, and other moves. Their moves slowly accelerated to overwhelming speeds; it was hard to discern what was actually happening. Zero gradually gained the upper hand and managed to force the opponent out of the boundaries of the arena.

Well... that was boring.

None of them used any "special cool moves". Lame!

(Steven forgot he couldn't perform any "special cool moves" at this point and time.)

He opened another video.

This was another one of his classmates.

What was his name...

The boy with green hair and snake eyes-

'Oh, snakey boy!' Steven remembered. 'Er... Sinclair.'

. . .

Sinclair sneezed.

"Lucus*, you didn't tell anyone that terrible nickname, right?" He asked his friend.

Lucus went into a coughing fit. "I only told one person, and it was by accident!"

"You introduced me like that for Jack. And Magnus. And Jin. And you told Steven, too? That'sss more than three people. How was it an accident?" Sinclair glared at his friend. He couldn't help but feel wary.

[Lucus*- Sinclair's friend, is not the same person as Lukas from the dream world.]

. . .

In the video, Snakey was fighting another person.

His fighting style was... slippery, to say the least. Snakey demonstrated great flexibility and was easily able to dodge most of the attacks. His moves were like an eel in the ocean, like a snake in the grass. Unpredictable and deadly, every move executed for the purpose of killing.

At this point, the other person decided his physical skills weren't a match for Sinclair and resorted to "special cool moves".

He waved his hands:

Droplets of water condensed to the point of visibility. It started raining, a dark storm appeared in the sky. A wave appeared; swirling round and round, slowly reaching for the sky. In a mere matter of seconds, the centrifugal force formed a tempest of wind and water- a miniature cyclone.

Sinclair was in the center of it all.

The thick walls of water gradually started compressing. Multiple shards of ice suddenly flew up in the air as they targeted Sinclair. Sinclair rapidly dodged them, but since the cyclone limited his movement, he collided with the rapidly churning walls of water and wind.

His shirt sleeve ripped open, exposing his arm and part of his torso. Blood started dripping from where he was grazed before viridescent scales formed over his wounds.

Like the color of dark leaves hanging on a green ash tree.

Sinclair sighed, and then disappeared.

In his place was a gigantic green snake, which barely managed to fit in the arena's boundaries. Now, not affected by the cyclone at all, it lunged at its opponent, slithering and curling around him.

Similar to a python, a boa constrictor, it squeezed its prey, not allowing him to breathe.

The opponent's face turned red, then purple, and finally fainted from the lack of oxygen.

The match was his win.