Chapter 48: EthicalPummeler

“Thanks,” Jelo said, feeling a genuine warmth from the praise. “It was harder than I expected. She was really good.”

“She was,” Mira agreed. “Twelve wins isn’t easy to rack up. Blood manipulation is a tricky ability to fight against, lots of versatility, hard to predict. But you handled it.”

Jelo nodded, already analyzing the fight in his head, thinking about what he’d done right and what he could improve. The Scaled Guard timing had been close, too close. He needed to work on activating it faster, more reflexively. And his Dragon Claw aim could be more precise, especially when under pressure.

But overall, he was satisfied. This was exactly what he needed, a safe environment to practice, to experiment, to learn from mistakes without catastrophic consequences.

“I want to fight one more person,” Jelo announced, already feeling that familiar hunger for improvement burning in his chest.

Mira raised an eyebrow. “Already? Don’t you want to rest a bit, analyze what you learned?”

“I can analyze while fighting,” Jelo said. “That’s how I learn best.”

Mira shrugged. “Your call. You’ve still got plenty of time left on your daily limit.”

Jelo moved back to the opponent selection interface, his eyes scanning through the available players again. This time he was looking for something different, a different fighting style, a different challenge to test himself against.

He scrolled past several options before one particular avatar caught his attention.

The figure was dressed in a flamboyant white suit, not combat armor or practical fighting gear, but an actual formal suit with a jacket, vest, and tie. The outfit was immaculate, perfectly tailored, with subtle gold accents that caught the light.

The avatar itself was male, with sharp features and an expression that somehow managed to look both friendly and dangerous at the same time.

The username was displayed above: **[EthicalPummeler]**

Jelo stared at the name for a moment, trying to parse it. Ethical Pummeler? What kind of contradiction was that? You couldn’t ethically pummel someone, pummeling was inherently violent and aggressive.

But the absurdity of the name, combined with that ridiculous formal suit, made Jelo smile. This seemed like someone who didn’t take themselves too seriously, someone who approached fighting with a sense of humor.

“This one,” Jelo said, selecting the profile.

Mira leaned over to look. “EthicalPummeler? Oh, I’ve heard of this guy. He’s got a decent record. Fifteen wins, six losses. And apparently he’s really theatrical about his fights, lots of bowing and formal language even while he’s beating people up.”

“Sounds interesting,” Jelo said, already sending the challenge request.

The response came back almost immediately: **[Challenge Accepted]**

**[Match Starting in 30 seconds]**

**[Arena: Marble Colosseum]**

As the countdown began, the lobby space started to transform once again. The environment shifted, walls rising up around them, the floor becoming polished marble that reflected light like a mirror.

When the transformation completed, Jelo found himself standing in what looked like an ancient Roman colosseum, but constructed entirely from white marble that gleamed in bright sunlight.

Tiered seating rose up on all sides, empty but somehow still conveying the impression of an audience. The floor was perfectly smooth, providing excellent footing but no cover or obstacles.

And standing across from him, about forty feet away, was EthicalPummeler.

The white suit looked even more impressive in person, or in virtual person, the fabric seeming to glow against the marble backdrop. The avatar stood with perfect posture, hands clasped behind his back, expression serene and composed.

As Jelo watched, EthicalPummeler suddenly bowed, not a small nod, but a full, theatrical bow from the waist, one hand sweeping across his body in an elaborate gesture.

When he straightened, he spoke, his voice carrying clearly across the colosseum despite the distance. “Greetings, noble Papabear,” he said, his tone formal and almost aristocratic. “I must apologize in advance for the beating I am about to administer. Please know that I take no personal pleasure in your impending defeat, and I hope you will not hold it against me.”

Jelo blinked, his teddy bear head somehow managing to look both confused and amused.

Was this guy serious?

The match countdown appeared: **[3… 2… 1… FIGHT!]**

EthicalPummeler didn’t waste any time after the match began. His hands moved with practiced fluidity, reaching into empty air as if grasping something invisible. Light gathered around his fingers, coalescing and solidifying until suddenly he was holding a weapon that made Jelo’s eyes widen.

It was a massive hammer, not some normal-sized tool, but a true warhammer of ridiculous proportions. The handle was long and thin, perhaps six feet in length, made of what looked like polished steel that gleamed in the bright sunlight flooding the marble colosseum.

At the end of that impossibly long handle was an oversized hammerhead that had to weigh hundreds of pounds if this were real physics.

The weapon should have been unwieldy, impossible to control. But EthicalPummeler hefted it with ease, spinning it once in a display of casual strength before gripping it properly with both hands.

Then he swung.

The hammer came down toward Jelo with terrifying speed and force, the oversized head whistling through the air as it descended. The ground seemed to shake in anticipation of the impact, the very air displaced by the weapon’s passage creating a visible distortion.

Jelo reacted instantly, his body moving on pure reflex. He activated Wingburst, his form blurring as he shot sideways in a burst of acceleration, sliding out of the impact zone just as the hammer reached where he’d been standing.

The weapon struck the polished marble floor with catastrophic force.

The impact was deafening, a crack of sound like a thunderclap that echoed throughout the colosseum. The marble didn’t just crack, it shattered, exploding outward in chunks and fragments as a crater formed at the point of impact. Dust and debris billowed up, and Jelo felt the shockwave of displaced air even from several feet away.

If that had connected with him, even with his Scaled Guard active, he would have been obliterated.

Jelo didn’t give EthicalPummeler time to recover from the swing. While the man was still pulling his hammer free from the crater he’d created, Jelo counterattacked.

His hand swept outward, energy gathering and forming into a sweeping Dragon Claw projection. The translucent construct ripped across the air like a blade, aimed at EthicalPummeler’s midsection, seeking to catch him while he was vulnerable.

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