Super Gene

Fang Mingquan entered the battle arena from the shelter and found his seat. He looked to the center of the arena, waiting for Divinity’s Bout to begin.
Although Fang Mingquan was in a royal shelter that had half a million people in it, the arena itself could seat very few.
The humans in the Second God’s Sanctuary were not very enthusiastic about Divinity’s Bout. The primary focus of humans when it came to Divinity’s Bout was on the holy battles that took place between humans in their own shelters, so that they could see who was the best. But when it came to the actual Divinity’s Bout, interest quickly waned.
A lot of humans would choose to concede following their qualification, as the battles to come were of life and death. If their opponents were powerful spirits, they were often ruthless; humans could only live once, and they couldn’t afford to squander their lives in battles they would most likely lose.
And the deaths of human fighters was a frequent tragedy in Divinity’s Bout, as spirits showed no mercy in the brutality of their combat. As such, the entire event wasn’t something friendly and well-suited to humanity’s participation. Viewership of Divinity’s Bout was low, in stark contrast to its prominence in the First God’s Sanctuary.
Even the media paid little attention to the events of Divinity’s Bout. After all, there had not been a single human Son of God yet, and they had no desire to spend time and resources reporting the victories of spirits. A simple list of names usually sufficed.
People who did take the time to watch Divinity’s Bout were the higher-ups of the bigger factions of the Alliance. They were the sort of people that could take down spirit shelters, so observing the spirits that participated in Divinity’s Bout allowed them to collect intelligence on how to one-day face the spirits of shelters that had yet to be conquered.
Fang Mingquan was watching Divinity’s Bout in the hope that Dollar would be there. Dollar was in the Second God’s Sanctuary, and it was likely an accomplished fighter such as he would be willing to participate.
That being said, he didn’t have much hope. Dollar had only been in the Second God’s Sanctuary for a short period of time. No matter his strength, the spirits were likely to dwarf any hopeful competitor. It was like that for any human who wished to test their mettle there.
“Fang Mingquan?” Fang Mingquan, waiting for the match to begin, heard his name called out from behind. He turned his head to the sight of someone he knew.
“Mister Hua?” Fang Mingquan quickly walked over and shook his hand.
Mister Hua’s full name was Hua Ping. He had been in the Second God’s Sanctuary for a hundred years. He was one of the earliest evolvers. He now worked in the media, as well, and was a supervisor to Fang Mingquan.
“You are interested in Divinity’s Bout?” Hua Ping looked on Fang Mingquan with modest surprise. Fang Mingquan was the most well-known commentator in the Alliance.
The fact that no one could record videos or take pictures of the Divinity’s Bout was the source of his surprise. If he wished to make reports or commentate, it would all have to be spoken or written. It didn’t make for entertaining reading or listening, either, due to the misery and losses that would make up every single report. This was another factor in its lack of prominence in the media.
“I am interested, yes. That is why I have come to watch. Old Hua, have you come here to report on Divinity’s Bout, as well?” Fang Mingquan asked.
Old Hua smiled and said in response, “Once every ten years, I do it. This is the thirteenth article I will have done in regards to Divinity’s Bout. Few people read them, so it is not likely many would know of this work.”
“If it’s that bad, why do you still insist on doing it?” Fang Mingquan asked, with visible confusion.
Doing a show that no one paid heed to tended to go against the principles of someone in the media.
For an old supervisor to insist on doing a show every tenth year on Divinity’s Bout was quite surprising.
“Viewership figures are important, I must confess. But as a man of the media, I believe in reporting things that are meaningful for the progression of the human race. Humans don’t do well in Divinity’s Bout, that is true; but there are glimmers of inspiration and awe to be found. Talented people come here, every tenth year, in the hopes of securing honor and glory for humanity. Regardless of whether they win or lose, they are selfless heroes.”
Old Hua sighed and then continued to say, “But now, I fear glory has taken a grander prominence in the hearts of men. Only victory and success define a person’s worth these days. Humans who fail are disdained, and that is something no person can bear. I make records of these battles so future competitors of Divinity’s Bout can learn something.”
Fang Mingquan saluted him. A media man with such values and integrity was rare, and even Fang Mingquan himself wasn’t sure he could do the same. Fang Mingquan was ordinary and didn’t harbor much sentimentality; he never really thought of things that way. Yet despite that, it didn’t stop him from admiring the grace of his peer.
The two of them chatted, waiting for the fight to start. The arena could house one hundred thousand spectators, but only a few thousand had come.
Other human shelters were like this, as well. Aside from the fighters, and important figures and officials of the Alliance’s greater organizations, humans weren’t likely to come and watch a fight that would most likely result in defeat for their entire race.
Those who claimed victory would receive their time in the limelight, but the same could not be said for those who, despite significant effort and diligence, could not find the success they clamored for.
Humans adored heroes, but they often failed to realize that it was the past failures of the heroes that resulted in their own victories further down the line. In the legends of heroes, failures did not matter. They were small and insignificant in the grander scheme of things.
Divinity’s Bout was soon to begin. Those who had placed first in the shelters of humans and spirits were now drawn into the battle arena.
The arena was massive, and there were many smaller arenas separated neatly alongside each other, making it possible for a thousand fights to go on at the same time.
Humans and spirits were put apart, not allowed to have contact with each other. This was to avoid conflict outside of the organized battles.
Because so many humans and spirits were taking part in the event, it was difficult to find a specific person. Fang Mingquan perused the list of participants intently, in the hopes of finding Dollar there.
Hua Ping, who was beside him, used a pen to record something. His face was very serious.
“He really is here!” Fang Mingquan blurted out when he found Dollar’s name on the list of battlers.
Hua Ping looked confused. He turned his head to look at Fang Mingquan and asked, “You have a friend who has joined Divinity’s Bout?”
“Yes,” Fang Mingquan responded with great enthusiasm.
Although he had never met Dollar, or even exchanged words with him, he cherished him as a good friend in his heart. He considered him his best friend, as a matter of fact.
He could not describe this feeling succinctly, but it was how he felt, regardless.
“What is the number of your friend’s battleground? Let me see if he’s going up against a spirit,” Hua Ping said.
Fang Mingquan quickly gave him the number. Hua Ping was an expert, so he’d be able to tell him quickly what Dollar was about to go up against.
“Dollar and Black-Gold; your friend is unlucky, it would seem. He has encountered a spirit in his very first match. Black-Gold is a very powerful royal spirit. He has armor that is nigh impenetrable. Even sacred-blood class weapons have great difficulty dealing damage to it,” Hua Ping said, as he looked.