My Dungeon Life: Rise of the Slave Harem

“And now… the fight you’ve all be waiting for. Catgirl of Doom versus Deacon the Dragon!” The announcer was much more enthusiastic as he called out this one, and it was met with resounding cheers.

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The excitement and crowds around various matches had slowly increased as I edged up the ranking. My extreme speed had caught many people’s interest. They wondered just who I was, and the story we sold was that I was someone being trained by Bernice. This was enough to get everyone to accept it, although my ability to make a profit off my wins had tanked once everyone realized my true rank had yet to be revealed.

However, this was a diamond match, and the Catgirl of Doom was the undisputed champion of the ring. Diamond rank was a misnomer. There was only one person who existed at the Diamon rank. Once someone was defeated, they’d drop down to Gold. They could only challenge again a month later. Diamond matches were always when a Gold contestant challenged the Diamond.

From what I had been told, it was the Diamond rank because it stood for a diamond in the rough. This was a person of skill and ability who ought to move on to higher and better things. They were someone like Bernice, the top of the underground, destined for greatness. That was what happened to anyone who maintained the Diamond rank long enough. They would eventually become some small village’s hero or become knighted, or find some other path to success. Then, two Gold would duke it out, and if no one was able to hold the Diamond rank consecutively, it was passed from person to person until another diamond in the rough appeared.

I hadn’t known it that first day, but the match I had caught was the Catgirl of Doom overthrowing the current Diamond. Usually, Diamonds would only need to fight once a week to defend their place, but the kingpin of the underground had made an exception for me. Usually, other Golds had to buy their chance to battle the Diamond by cashing in cred, which I still hadn’t figure out if it was a currency or a state of mind. That was just another exception made for me. This naturally grew even more interest in our match, as it was rarely an up-and-comer would blast through the ranks so quickly and then immediately challenge the Diamond.

After nearly a week of fighting, I finally stood opposite of her on the same stage. Her hair was black, and by all appearance, she seemed to be an unremarkable black catkin with no variant. However, how could I forget the body of the woman I had spent so many intimate nights with. If it came to any girl, it would be Lydia who I knew best. This woman stood like her, moved like her, and looked like her. I would have confirmed it with God and Evil Eye that moment, but while it wasn’t explicitly banned in underground tournaments, Bernice said I would lose the crowd and breed hostile if I relied on such cheap tricks.

That meant that the only way to confirm my suspicions was to rip off her mask and remove all doubt!

“Begin!”