Reincarnated With The Degenerate System

Chapter 258: Another Card Part 3

I already knew that. But knowing something and accepting it were two different things.Honestly, I was sick of living in this dump.

That was why I pushed so hard—why I kept chasing strength like my life depended on it. Because it did.

The faster I got stronger, the sooner I could end all of this and go back.

"There has to be another way,"

Sera leaned forward on the counter, dropping her own voice to match mine.

"Leon, even if you somehow found one, what would you do with it? You’re really weak. Carrying something like that around would paint a target on your back."

Ouch... and she was supposed to be my secret lover.

For a second, I almost showed her my awesomeness—the progress, the grind, all the sleepless effort. Like some idiot waiting for praise.

Yeah... no.

Let her wait.

Let her wonder where I went, what I’ve been doing. Let her get curious, maybe even a little annoyed.

Then one day—boom.

I show up running the whole place.

And suddenly she’s the one trying to get my attention.

...Yeah, that sounds way better.

"I can handle myself."

"Yeah, right." She waved it off like it meant nothing, already losing interest in the talk.

"Just tell me where I can get one," I pressed, voice tightening. "Why are you being so stubborn about this?"

She shook her head, mouth already forming the shape of another refusal —

The door swung open.

He was a broad man, not exceptionally tall but built like someone who had been hit many times and had decided, at some point, to simply stop going down.

Brown hair, brown eyes, a beard that had long since stopped being groomed and had become more of a declaration. It added years to him that didn’t belong there.

Barn. I knew him vaguely the way I knew most people in this dump — by face, by reputation, by the stories that followed certain people around like shadows.

He looked like trouble at first glance, the kind you avoid. But around his crew, he acted different—easygoing, even welcoming.

He spotted me immediately, which meant he’d been looking.

"Hey, Leon." He walked over, hands in his pockets. "I heard from your little brother that you’re looking for a cold weapon from before the invasion, right?"

Sera’s eyes cut to me. I ignored them.

"Yeah. I really need one."

Barn’s eyes flickered, a greedy spark dancing in them. "I think I might know where you can get it."

"Where?"

"The Cage. I heard that if you win the tournament this time, the mayor will allow you to get anything— within the vault."

"The Cage?" I repeated.

Barn scratched that wild, overgrown beard of his — the thing that made him look sixty when he couldn’t have been older than thirty-five.

He leaned against the counter like he owned the place. "Don’t play ignorant. I’m sure you’ve heard of it."

I had. Rumors, mostly.

The Cage was exactly what it sounded like — a fighting pit buried somewhere in the lower sectors, where people went to bleed for the entertainment of those who still had enough comfort left to be bored.

Even in this hellhole, there was a status hierarchy.

Some lived above the rest—the so-called upper class—with access to clean water and condo-style spaces that felt like a world apart.

"The tournament. How often does it run?"

"Once every three months." Barn held up a finger. "The next one starts in two weeks. Plenty of time to either get ready—or back out."

Sera had gone very still and quite beside me. I didn’t need to look at her to feel it. She was furious.

"And the vault," I pressed. "You’re sure about that? Any weapon. Anything inside."

Barn shrugged, but his eyes didn’t. "That’s what I heard. Mayor Draven himself made the announcement. Said he wanted real entertainment this time."

His expression shifted, like a thought had just hit him.

"Meaning the fighters won’t be scraped from the bottom of the barrel."

"Meaning people will die," Sera interjected bluntly.

Barn glanced at her. Had the decency to look almost apologetic. "People always die, sweetheart."

The air between them went cold.

I pushed off the counter before she could respond. "Where do I sign up?"

Sera’s hand caught my arm before I’d even fully turned.

"Leon. You’re not seriously considering this." She wasn’t asking. Her grip on my arm tightened just slightly — not enough to hold me, just enough to make a point.

"Tell me you’re not seriously considering this." she repeated.

Barn had the good sense to take a small step back and find something interesting to look at on the far shelf.

"Sera—"

"No." She moved around the counter, planting herself in front of me properly now.

Up close I could see it clearly — not just worry, something rawer than that. Something she was working hard to keep composed.

"Do you even know who fights in the Cage? Because I do. I’ve seen them come back after their runs. The ones who survive aren’t normal—they’re practically monsters in human skin."

"I’ve been training—"

"Everyone in that pit has been training." Her voice cracked slightly on the last word before she pulled it back under control. "They’re mutated fighters. People with abilities!"

"This isn’t a scavenging run where you get to use your head and find a way around the danger. In the Cage you stand in front of whatever they put in front of you and you fight until one of you stops moving."

Her voice strained on the last words, revealing just how worried she really was.

"I know what it is,"

"Then you know it’s suicide. That’s exactly what this is. You’d be walking in there, handing them a reason to watch you die for sport. Barn will just pocket the recruitment money and spend it on booze."

The person in question didn’t even deny it. He just whistled, letting a single note hang in the air.

"Enough." I brushed her hand off. "I’m old enough to make my own decisions. "