MIGHT AS WELL BE OP

As Anthony remained absorbed in his movie, nearing the climax, a subtle shift was detected by his Sense Dome.

It wasn't just him; a few others in the room also sensed the change.

In an instant, they found themselves transported to an entirely different location.

One by one, they rose to their feet.

Those who hadn't felt the shift slowly opened their eyes, startled by the sudden noise, only to realize they had been moved without warning.

'Tsk... just as they were about to reveal the criminal mastermind behind everything'

Anthony thought in frustration, pressing the pause button on his screen, stopping the movie abruptly.

Anthony stood, swiftly removing the equipment he had been using for his entertainment.

The air in the atmosphere grew tense as everyone around him followed suit, rising to their feet with a quiet urgency.

No one dared remain seated.

The abrupt relocation signaled the start of something important.

Moments passed, and a man descended from above, his gaze sweeping across the gathered champions.

For a brief moment, his eyes locked with theirs, and then, with an air of command, he spoke.

"The Starborn Tournament is about to begin. You all know what this is about, so there's no need for needless speeches"

The man declared, hovering above them.

"You can think of me as the overseer of this tournament"

He continued, his voice carrying weight.

"Now, onto the rules"

Every ear perked up, despite most having heard the basics from their guardians before arriving.

Still, they listened closely, knowing that there might be some updates or changes in the information they had received.

"The rules are the same as any standard tournament you've participated in throughout your lives"

The overseer said with a hint of finality.

"No use of external aids, no potions, no artifacts, just your weapons. That's all"

A few nodded, mentally preparing for what was to come.

"Secondly"

He continued.

"Victory is determined by death, knockout, or submission. It is optional to kill your opponents"

The overseer's words hung in the air, and as they did, an undercurrent of killing intent flashed in the eyes of several champions.

The mention of 'death' was never taken lightly.

The overseer's smile grew as he noticed the flicker of displeasure among the participants, the killing intent simmering just beneath the surface.

"But before we begin"

He continued, his tone both calm and cutting.

"We need to play some games to eliminate a few of you. Your numbers are simply too large. We have no time to watch every single match among all of you, so we've devised certain tests to filter out the weak"

A murmur rippled through the group, the collective expectation of immediate combat giving way to confusion and irritation.

They had come prepared for battle, eager to prove their strength.

The notion of a preliminary round, a filtering process, was an unexpected twist.n/ô/vel/b//jn dot c//om

They had hoped to immediately engage in one on one combat, to display their prowess and earn their place among the remaining champions.

Yet now they realized that in order to thin the herd, a series of trials would be needed, tests that would separate the true contenders from the pretenders.

"This is to separate the trash from treasure"

The overseer added cryptically, his words lingering in the air like an enigma.

The implication was clear: only those who were truly worthy, those who could navigate the trials and rise above, would have a chance at the ultimate prize.

The rest, the weak, the unworthy, would be discarded without ceremony.

With a sharp snap of the overseer's fingers, the ground trembled, the air thickening with anticipation.

The earth itself seemed to groan as massive structures began to rise, each one emerging from beneath the soil with a subtle, almost predatory grace.

The towering formations stood six feet tall, each marked with an intricate web of glowing runes and ancient patterns that spiraled upward, glowing faintly in the air.

The designs pulsed with an eerie energy, and the deep hum of mana reverberated from each one, sending a chill through the onlookers.

Atop each of these strange, towering structures rested a glass orb, smooth and perfectly spherical, suspended in mid air as if untouched by the pull of gravity.

The orbs reflected the ambient light, casting strange reflections that seemed to dance across the faces of the gathered participants.

The sight left the crowd in stunned silence.

They exchanged glances, eyes wide with curiosity and apprehension.

What were these structures? What purpose did they serve?

Some tried to assess them with their senses, but the sheer complexity of the runes and the foreign nature of the magic around the structures left even the most experienced among them with an unsettling sense of uncertainty.

The overseer's gaze swept over the group, savoring the uncertainty that gripped them.

"I imagine you're all curious about this"

The overseer remarked with a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Allow me to introduce the Soulflux Prism"

With a dramatic pause, he continued.

"Its function is simple yet profound, this remarkable artifact measures both the age of the soul and the body"

As the words left his lips, a wave of tension seemed to ripple through the air, as though the very atmosphere had been shattered.

Some faces furrowed in confusion, while many others remained indifferent, unfazed by the revelation.

"The age limit for the competition is set at one thousand years"

The overseer declared, a smile creeping onto his face.

"Thus, we shall measure your age right here, right now"

Though his expression was one of mirth, there was an underlying darkness behind it, one that few could discern.

The Soulflux, however, served a purpose far beyond the mere measuring of years.

It did not simply calculate age as a singular figure.

Rather, it distinguished between two separate facets, the age of the body and that of the soul.

And what happens when the soul's age does not align with the body's?

It signals an unsettling truth: that the soul has taken possession of the body.

This is one of the many ways competitors attempt to cheat within the Starborn Tournament.

Techniques such as 'Body Possession' or 'Soul Swap' allow individuals to transfer their soul, or at least a fragment of it, into a new vessel upon death.

This transfer, a desperate bid to escape mortality, is often used by those seeking to place the wisdom and talents of an experienced soul into the body of the young, hoping to secure victory, or at the very least, a place within the top ten.

But what of those rare cases where even the planet's representative is unaware of a soul's ascension into a new vessel?

Take, for instance, the concept of reincarnation.

Consider Anthony, who in his first life had lived well beyond thirty years, yet upon reincarnation, found his consciousness inhabiting the body of a newborn.

Anthony was not alone in this.

There were others like him in this very competition, reincarnators whose souls had taken root in bodies far younger than their true age would suggest.

The universe is vast, its wonders countless, and strange phenomena abound.

Reincarnation, for example, is not an anomaly, but rather a phenomenon that occurs although rare, with little more than the ebb and flow of fate.

This reality brought a subtle unease some of the champions in attendance.

None of them had undergone a mere transfer of soul, orchestrated by their own planet, to gain an advantage in the competition.

Their worlds were familiar with the Soulflux Prism, and they knew well that no such desperate measure was necessary.

Though Anthony's face remained a mask of indifference, a deep seated panic gripped his heart.

'Am I going to be exposed?'

A cold shiver ran down his spine, and for a fleeting moment, his blood turned to ice.

He immediately began praying to ???, but there was no response, no comforting hum of his system to reassure him.

'How could mom and dad not have warned me about this?'

Frustration bubbled within him, but then he realized, how could Michael and Mitchelle, the ones who had raised him, have prepared him for such an eventuality?

To them, Anthony was their child, their precious son.

The notion that another soul might have taken root within him had never even occurred to them.

'Damn it'

The curse ran through his mind, but his exterior remained composed, a perfect veneer of calm.

'No. I can still fix this. The system. I can use the system to mask it'

His thoughts immediately shifted to his only hope, the system's shop.

'System, is there anything that can bypass this damned contraption?'

[Ding... Certainly, Host]

'Quick, show me. I need to buy the best that my spending points can handle, just in case'

[Affirmative]

[Ding... Here is the list, Host]

[#####***]

[ERROR]

'System, what is happening? How can you be crashing at such a critical moment?'

[The system has been forcibly shut down by ???]

A sinking feeling consumed Anthony.

'I'm fucked'

Anthony thought, feeling his soul slip from his body for a split second