How To Survive A Calamity-Chapter 239 - 238: Muscle Derrick’s Ingenious Idea [1]

The Next Day — General Combat Classes

Thwaaam!

"Ohhh~" I clapped my hands in awe as a male cadet went flying through the air in a spectacular arc. It was a magnificent shoulder throw, if I dare say.

His body hit the hard concrete with a sickening bounce, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

A muffled groan slipped from his lips, his face contorted in agony as he stared up at his opponent through half-lidded eyes.

Even now, his hand was still trapped in a merciless vice grip, his wrist twisted with bone-snapping intent by Ceres.

"I… I yield," he croaked, his words strained beneath the weight of her cold, unsympathetic gaze.

And just like that—it was over.

Ceres released his arm without a word, stepping back from his crumpled body. Around her, a scattering of other cadets writhed and groaned on the ground, clutching at their bruises and sprains. It was carnage, yet somehow a spectacle.

At the center of the chaos stood Ceres herself, unruffled, unbothered, not even a single strand of her hair out of place.

Cold red eyes glistened like still mirror surfaces.

She was stunning.

Stunningly terrifying, I thought, glancing at the poor cadets brave—or foolish—enough to challenge her.

Huh… I guess I'd had that gall once, too.

Then a boisterous laugh rolled across the hall, rough and deep like a mountain itself, drawing every eye.

A macho man, all pulsing muscles and arms thick as tree trunks, filled four seats effortlessly as he sat in the stands, laughing without an ounce of grace, dripping with pure satisfaction.

Bronze-darkened skin, shoulders that could shame boulders, and carved muscle lines that hinted at questionable depths.

Combat Instructor.

Derrick Greybarn.

Or, as I liked to call him…

Muscle Derrick.

Or Macho Derrick.

Nevertheless… the instructor—with what I was sure was an unhealthy amount of muscles—brimmed with his usual savage, overwhelming presence.

He sat in the stands, taking up nothing short of four whole seats by himself, hands folded, as he enjoyed the show unfolding below on the stage.

Muscle Derrick was a muscle-brained, demonic instructor who relished in the misery and pain of his students. And right now, he was basking in the most recent ruthless failures of one of them.

'Quite an encouraging instructor.'

Sitting on the stands, considerably far from the macho instructor, were the other cadets, wry and deadpan.

Macho Derrick turned to them, his oddly too-symmetrical face bare of eyebrows, and tore a gnarled grin.

He chortled, gesturing at Ceres down in the arena with his chin.

"Does anyone else with less than a liver, and half the number of kidneys, wish to challenge her again?"

What Muscle Derrick said was exactly what he meant.

Today's General Combat Class was… special.

With all the hype about the release of the new Temporary Rankings, Derrick Greybarn had cooked up a painfully creative innovation.

Why not make the students fight against each other?

But they already did that during every other General Combat Class, so why not… add a spin on it, he probably thought.

Muscle-brained Derrick was a simple man—his so-called 'genius ideas' were usually simple-minded. So this was straightforward:

Make the cadets fight each other…

But with their Ranks on the line.

…Okay, maybe that didn't sound as harmless as I'd made it seem at first, but I wasn't done.

Basically, the cadets had the opportunity to challenge anyone they wanted from the entire year. And if they were lucky enough to win, they'd automatically raise their Temporary Ranking.

It was a simple challenge system. Just like the Academy's dueling system already in place.

Since Derrick was a legitimate instructor and a staff member of the Academy, he had the full power and authority to officiate these duels.

So basically… he decided to spend his entire class as a dueling-exclusive period.

What was terrifying was that this was all very official, and whatever the outcome of the duels, it stuck.

Those who were challenged had to defend their Ranking—or suffer dropping below.

What made it even more interesting was…

The defender couldn't refuse or deny a challenge, lest they face some unnamed consequences. Unlike the regular system, where duel challenges could be outright rejected, as long as you were part of Muscle Derrick's class, you had zero say this time.

…So maybe Derrick Greybarn's idea wasn't as simple as I'd thought.

Needless to say, this created an incredible opportunity for many—especially those who normally wouldn't dare challenge cadets far higher-ranked than themselves for fear of rejection.

Now, no one could say no.

But of course, all risk didn't fall on the defenders alone.

According to Muscle Derrick, if you challenged a cadet and ended up losing, you'd suffer a permanent ten percent deduction in your evaluation and assessment. That penalty would come back to bite you hard during the upcoming midterms, and in turn, affect your New Ranking… and strip you of temporary privileges.

As for how severe that penalty was—just how much ten percent actually mattered in the grand scheme, and whether Derrick really had the authority to enforce it—we'd have to find out later. But nobody seemed willing to risk it.

After all, Muscle Derrick's warning was clear: Do not bite off more than you can chew.

You couldn't expect a duel where your opponent's Rank was on the line to come without some risk to yourself. That wouldn't be fair, now would it?

That little detail drew a hard line against mindless challenges.

To prevent chaos and maintain order, Derrick enforced 1v1 duels only—unless the defender's Rank was extremely high. In that case, short gauntlet duels were allowed, where the defender faced a line-up of challengers.

Just like what had just happened in the arena.

"Dammit. We couldn't even force her to move, even though we ganged up on her in numbers…" I caught snippets of the cadets sulking, still smarting from their flawless defeat against Ceres despite their numerical advantage. 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝕨𝕖𝗯𝚗𝚘𝕧𝕖𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝕞

So far, Ceres Walker, Rank 1, was the only cadet eligible for a tag-team gauntlet duel.

Other high-rankers could, at most, face a survival-run challenge—fighting a line of challengers one after another for as long as they could last.