Chapter 434: Miyabi's Sparring Request
The simulated morning light filtering through the Base's overhead panels grew steadily brighter, casting a warm, artificial dawn over the living quarters. The rich, roasted aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the savory scent of sizzling bacon, coaxing the last few sleepy minds from their beds.
Doors hissed open one by one down the corridor. Caesar stumbled out first, pressing the heel of her hand against her temple with a quiet groan, clearly nursing a hangover from last night's festivities. Right behind her, Anby looked entirely unaffected and practically vibrated with morning energy. Paimon and March 7th floated and shuffled into the dining area respectively, both still vigorously rubbing the sleep from their eyes. Gradually, the ensemble gathered around the expansive dining table, digging into a massive breakfast spread carefully tailored to their individual tastes by the resident Bangboos.
Of course, the more 'experimental' culinary offerings—like the infamous Stargazy Pie—had already been completely demolished by a certain chaotic, trash-can-loving "Breakfast Hero."
Shortly after the plates were cleared, the crew from Belobog Heavy Industries pushed their chairs back, preparing to take their leave.
Koleda adjusted her jacket and offered a professional, yet warm nod to the group. "Thanks for the hospitality last night. It was exactly what we needed. However, Belobog Heavy Industries' Ether energy purification and grid reconstruction project has hit a critical stage. The schedule is incredibly tight right now, so we have to get back to the construction site to oversee the progress and coordinate the heavy machinery. I look forward to our next gathering, though."
Anton slammed a heavy fist against his chest, his booming voice rattling the empty coffee cups. "Bro! Once this crazy busy period wraps up, I'm definitely coming back! Then we can dive into the Hollows and smash some Ethereals together again! Count on it!"
As the Belobog crew marched out, the dining area quieted down. Seizing the moment, Miyabi, who had been sitting in serene silence, stood up. She approached the Chat Group members, her footsteps completely silent against the polished floor, stopping just short of Wise and Belle.
Standing tall, her posture immaculate and her dark eyes clear and calm, she raised her hands. With a sharp, concise motion, she offered a traditional martial artist's salute toward Stelle, Dan Heng, March 7th, Lumine, Zhongli, and the rest of the otherworldly visitors who radiated quiet strength.
"Everyone," Miyabi began, her voice steady, crisp, and carrying an unquestionable layer of absolute seriousness. "I am deeply grateful for the hospitality you showed me last night. According to our previous agreement—and driven by my own personal desires as a martial artist—I would like to formally request a sparring match with you all here today."
Her sharp gaze swept over the assembled crowd, assessing them. "There is no need for a life-and-death struggle. This is merely an exercise to verify what we have learned, to exchange techniques, and to truly understand each other's combat styles. Doing so will allow us to collaborate much more effectively when we venture into the Hollows, or whatever other dangerous situations the future might hold."
Stelle's ears practically twitched. A dangerous, excited spark instantly ignited in her golden eyes.
Sparring! A friendly fight! This was the perfect excuse to test her limits, show off a little, and swing her bat around. It was easily one of her top three favorite activities.
However, a sudden thought slammed the brakes on her enthusiasm. The event invitation waiting for her in the Gear Coin Shop flashed through her mind like a neon sign. Her craving to launch the "Hollow Evacuation Operation" and hoard a mountain of shiny gear coins was equally overpowering. She shifted her weight, visibly torn between the urge to fight a cool samurai girl and the urge to grind currency.
Reading Stelle's internal dilemma like an open book, Dan Heng crossed his arms and offered his usual calm, analytical perspective. "The agreement came first, Stelle, so it should be fulfilled., crossing weapons with one of the top local combatants to understand their power systems will be of direct, practical benefit to our future operations in New Eridu. The coins can be earned later."
Lumine nodded in agreement, her golden hair swaying. "Since we gave our word, we naturally have to follow through. Besides, I'm genuinely curious to see the true strength of a 'Hollow Hunter' level fighter."
Sitting at the edge of the table, Zhongli casually set his porcelain teacup onto its saucer with a soft clink. He nodded slightly, his amber eyes serene. "Let the guest follow the host's lead. Forging bonds of friendship through the exchange of martial arts is a tradition that has existed since ancient times; it is entirely in accordance with proper etiquette."
Seeing that the rest of the Chat Group not only lacked objections but were actively leaning in with interest, Stelle had no choice but to temporarily lock away her goblin-like urge to rush into the Hollow for loot. She rubbed her hands together, a wide grin spreading across her face.
"Alright, alright! Let's have a fight first! After we throw down, we'll go grind the dungeon... uh, I mean, explore the Hollow! Don't worry, Miyabi, I totally know how to hold back!"
She declared this with absolute, chest-thumping confidence. Beside her, March 7th and Dan Heng slowly turned their heads, shooting Stelle identical, deadpan side-glances that screamed: Are you sure about that?
Wise and Belle exchanged an amused smile. "The arena is already prepped," Wise said, gesturing toward the hallway. "Everyone can head over whenever you're ready."
Guided by a particularly enthusiastic little Bangboo, the group filed out of the living quarters. They handled a series of sleek, high-tech corridors, the neon lighting shifting from warm white to a cool, tactical blue, until they stopped before a set of heavy, reinforced double doors.
Etched into the metallic lintel above the frame was an abstract, glowing emblem of a crossed sword and shield.
When Wise pushed the heavy doors open, the sight inside caused everyone—save for the two Proxies—to freeze in their tracks.
This was not the sprawling outdoor dirt ring or the padded indoor gymnasium they had pictured.
Instead, they stepped into a highly modernized, sleek space that felt more like a billionaire's private, avant-garde cinema. Soft, tiered seating fanned out in a wide arc, all facing a small, elevated platform roughly a dozen square meters in size. The surface of the platform was polished to a mirror finish, gleaming with a faint, cold metallic luster.
But the most striking feature was hovering right in the dead center of the platform. A slowly rotating, dark vortex floated quietly in the air. Its diameter perfectly matched the edges of the platform beneath it. Swirling with deep purples and jagged digital distortions, it looked exactly like the spatial rifts they had encountered inside the Hollows—just scaled down to a miniature size.
"This... this is the arena?" Paimon floated forward, scratching her head in utter confusion. "Why does it feel like a fancy screening room? Are we supposed to just sit here and eat popcorn while watching a movie?"
"Wow, look at the baby Hollow!" Stelle leaned dangerously close to the edge of the platform, her eyes wide as she stared into the swirling vortex. "Wait, are we actually fighting inside this thing?"
The guide Bangboo waddled forward, its digital screen blinking happily as it emitted a series of muffled, electronic chirps. "Ehn-na-nu! (This is the 'Simulated Combat Training Ground.'The central platform acts as the access terminal, and the miniature'Mimic Hollow' above it connects directly to an independent, high-fidelity combat simulation space.)"
It spun in a little circle, pointing its stubby arms at the vortex. "Na-nah-ehn! (Once participants step onto the platform, they will be digitized and teleported inside. The environmental parameters are fully adjustable. Damage judgment operates differently from physical reality; if a fighter's vital signs drop below the established safety threshold, or if they verbally surrender, the system will automatically and safely eject them back to the audience seats. Please feel free to engage in maximum-intensity sparring without fear of death!)"
Realization dawned on the group. It was a high-fidelity virtual reality combat space. It offered the perfect solution: allowing them to go all-out without holding back, ensuring absolute physical safety, and providing the spectators with a front-row seat to the action.
"Fascinating." Welt adjusted his glasses, a look of genuine appreciation crossing his face. As a seasoned warrior who had endured countless grueling training sessions and life-or-death battles, he immediately recognized the tactical superiority of such a design.
"Sounds totally safe! So what are we waiting for?" Stelle didn't hesitate for a single second. She vaulted onto the platform, planting her boots right in front of the Mimic Hollow. She spun around, flashing a challenging grin at Miyabi, who was still standing by the seating area.
"Come on, come on, Miyabi! Let's kick off the first match! Let me show you the true, unbridled power of the Galactic Baseballer!"
Miyabi did not decline. Her expression remained perfectly composed. She offered a slight, respectful nod to the audience, then walked up the short steps onto the platform. Her footfalls were measured and precise. She stopped opposite Stelle, her hand resting lightly on the hilt of her katana.
Without breaking eye contact, both women took a synchronized step forward, crossing the threshold into the miniature vortex.
In an instant, the deep purple light flared violently. Their physical forms distorted, rippling like stones dropped into a calm pond, before being entirely swallowed by the digital void. They vanished from the platform without a trace.
A split second later, the space directly in front of the tiered seating hummed to life. A massive, semi-transparent holographic screen unfolded out of thin air, its edges shimmering with data streams. It broadcasted the interior of the simulation in crystal-clear, ultra-high definition.
The environment was a sprawling, devastated urban ruin.
Shattered concrete overpasses hung suspended in the air. The skeletal remains of collapsed skyscrapers clawed at a sky choked with an eternal, swirling cloud of grayish-yellow dust. Rusted, hollowed-out vehicles were piled into jagged metallic mountains. The sensory details were staggering; the simulation perfectly captured the oppressive, decaying atmosphere of a typical Hollow disaster zone.
On the massive screen, the figures of Stelle and Miyabi materialized. They stood at opposite ends of a wide, rubble-strewn plaza, separated by roughly a hundred meters of broken asphalt and debris.
The audience seating plunged into a hushed, anticipatory silence as every single pair of eyes locked onto the glowing screen, waiting for the first strike.
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