Facing everyone's surprised gaze, the man directly called out Joet Brown's name.
From the shouts of the crowd, we already knew the identity of the visitor was prominent—the dean of the School of Mystical Knowledge Research.
He wore a round baker's hat on his head, loose pajamas and pants, and a cane in his left hand. He looked very funny, but no one dared to laugh at his casual outfit.
Joe Butran looked at the person who came, his face filled with joy of reunion.
The man walked up to Joe Butler and opened his arms.
"Long time no see, kid.
How come you, a two-legged person, are even more miserable than me, a three-legged person?"
After saying that, he smiled and ruffled Joe Butran's messy hair.
"Teacher, it's nice to see you again."
Joet Brown, who had been strictly controlling his emotions, couldn't hold back his tears at this moment. The tears in his heart and the depression of the past period of time burst out from his heart at the moment of reunion.
Joet Brown had not seen Arnold since the death of Umr.
He has experienced too much in the past few days.
When he saw that Arnold had grown older but still looked the same as he did back then, the joy of reunion made all his forgotten memories resurface from the depths of his mind.
"Ahem, pay attention to your environment, you little brat."
Arnold tapped Joet Brown's head as a reminder, but his eyes were full of doting.
When Joet Brown realized what was happening, his face turned red and he wiped the tears from his cheeks with his sleeve.
Everyone started talking about it, but the young man who was illuminated by the holy light of Jot Brown got up from the ground, stared at Jot Brown and Arnold, and then said loudly in a sarcastic tone,
“I said, how could such a great university like Miskatonic recruit a disabled cripple.
It turns out he is a relative.
Tsk, tsk, tsk."
These words were clearly heard by everyone in the paid area, and the vice president of the Student Union, Hull, immediately changed his expression upon hearing them.
"This idiot! Is he worthy of provoking someone of the Dean's rank?!"
Hull was about to yell, but the president beside him grabbed Hull's shoulder.
"Don't bring shame to the student union."
Hearing this, Hull reacted immediately.
If he went out to smooth things over for his stupid brother at this moment, people would not care about the identities of the two brothers, but would care about his identity as the vice president of the Student Union.
At this moment, my position became extremely embarrassing.
Hull took two deep breaths, forced himself to calm down, and then pulled off the right sleeve of his uniform.
"From today on, I, Hull Calgary, and Fok Calgary sever our brotherly relationship."
Hull's unrestrained attitude impressed many people in the student union, but Arnold's reaction was unexpected.
Arnold looked back with a smile at Fok Calgary, the shouting young man.
He asked with a smile,
"What department are you from?"
Fok was stunned when he heard this, and answered with gritted teeth,
"Military Department."
"Since you are a military major, you should be familiar with combat skills, right?"
Arnold said, throwing a look at Joet Brown.
Seeing this, Joet Brown nodded slightly, then took a small round-headed knife from the dining table that was used to spread butter on bread and held it in his hand.
When Fok heard this, he immediately understood what Arnold meant and immediately said,
"Of course, every general needs to go to the battlefield in person to lead the soldiers to fight side by side.
Apart from the items related to hot firearm shooting, my ability in using a long sword is in the top 20 in the entire combat department.
I am confident in this regard.”
Arnold nodded with satisfaction, and then said to the staff in the restaurant beside him,
"Go get a wooden sword and tell it that it is the teaching material I need now."
After a while, the staff took out a blunt, round-headed wooden sword that students usually used for sparring.
This wooden sword is 120 centimeters long, which is the perfect length for both chopping and stabbing.
Arnold took it, checked the blade briefly, and threw it to Fok.
"Check the sword yourself."
Fok checked it carefully, then nodded to Arnold.
"There's nothing wrong with the sword."
"You have your weapons, then, Joet Brown?"
Arnold asked with a smile without turning his head.
Jobtran picked up a white hand towel from the table and threw it in front of Fok.
"You don't mind if there are no white gloves or white towels?"
Arnold's previous actions had already made many people present suspicious, but when Joet Brown threw out the white towel, everyone was shocked.
According to the medieval chivalric tradition, if someone threw out a white glove, it was equivalent to actively provoking a duel to the death.
Although everyone knew that the wooden swords used in school sparring were unlikely to kill someone, serious injuries were inevitable.
However, Joet Brown's behavior put himself in an extremely disadvantageous position.
Fok was startled when he saw this, then looked at Jobtran with contempt.
"Where are your weapons?"
Jobtran waved the butter knife in his hand nonchalantly, and pushed the wheelchair under him forward with his left hand.
"Since you are so confident, I will come to dampen your enthusiasm."
Fok picked up the white towel and took off his coat, revealing his well-exercised arms.
"Come on, come on, temporary opening.
If Fok wins, the odds are 1.1, and if the rookie wins, the odds are 3.
A shifty-looking student seemed not to be afraid of trouble and started a small gambling game on the spur of the moment.
Those who can eat here are those who are not short of credits, and the chips in this gamble are naturally the credits.
The crowd who came to join in the fun shouted and went to the gambling area, placing bets on their favorite players.
Most people bet on Fok. Even though he is a little bit stupid, his skills are indeed pretty good.
Joe Butler gave a look to the three people who were accompanying him. After the three people understood, they immediately walked to the gambling table and placed bets for Joe Butler.
Howard was hesitant at first, but when he saw the three people around him putting all their belongings into it, he gritted his teeth and invested all the remaining four credits.
When someone shouted "buy it and leave", Arnold set up a small barrier over there, isolating the sound from the outside world.
"Both parties are ready. I am the notary and the duel will begin after I count down three seconds."
Arnold stood calmly in the middle and said to the two of them at the same time,
"I'm ready."
Fok held the sword and made a motion to prepare for a thrust.
Joet Brown tilted his head and did not say anything else.
"Three, two, one. Go."
Fok took the lead, moving steadily towards Jobtran.
He did not launch an attack immediately, but instead skillfully looked for Jobtran's weaknesses.
But on the other hand, Jobtran looked lazy and might fall asleep on the spot if given a pillow.
There were so many flaws, almost all over his body, which made Fok a little confused.
"Are you still going to fight?"
Joet Brown, sitting in a wheelchair, asked helplessly,
“I’m disabled, eh?”
When Fok came to his senses, he strode forward, holding the wooden sword high and stabbing at Jobtran.
Since Jobtran was sitting in a wheelchair, Fok's sword tip was slightly pressed down.
There was a gleam in Joe Butron's eyes.
The butter knife in his hand lightly touched the tip of Fok's sword.
This almost caused the wooden sword in Fok's hand to fly out. Fortunately, he had daily training in wrist and grip strength, and used brute force to retract the sword. Otherwise, he would have made a fool of himself at the first strike.
As the sword pierced the air, Fok's expression became solemn.
From holding the sword with one hand, it changed to holding it with both hands.
This posture obviously involves large-scale slashing rather than stabbing with a Western rapier.
He took two cautious steps back and then went around behind Joet Brown.
Although the victory was unfair, there is no mercy in the duel.
Fok had thought of this battle strategy at the beginning.
He saw Joet Brown's wheelchair and discovered that this wheelchair was not very fast when turning. He only needed to go behind Joet Brown and hit him on the back of the head to resolve this farce.
Surprisingly, Joet Brown did not make any move to dodge, as if dodging was unnecessary for him.
As he wished, Fok got behind Jobtran, pushed hard with his left foot, jumped high, and swept the wooden sword across with both hands.
If this blow had hit Joet Brown, he would have been knocked out of his wheelchair and rolled to the ground.
Just as the blade of the wooden sword was about to touch Joet Brown's neck, Joet Brown lowered his head as if he was dozing off, and the sword brushed past Joet Brown's hair.
The force of the slash was different from that of the stab, and the failure of the sword swing left a flaw in Fok's body that was difficult to hide.
He landed on his right foot and almost lost his balance, and at this time Joet Brown stretched.
The butter knife was held squarely against Fok's neck by Jobtran.
"Thank you."
Joet Brown tapped Fok's neck gently with a butter knife. The cold touch on his neck reminded Fok that he had lost, and lost completely.
Fok dropped the wooden sword in his hand in disappointment and raised his hands above his head.
“You win.
I acknowledge your strength."
Arnold smiled and removed the silencing barrier. At the same time, the field was silent.
Except for a few people who were familiar with Joet Brown, no one thought that Joet Brown could win this duel.
The dealer who set up the gambling game was so frightened that his face turned pale.
You have to know that most of the bets were only placed on academic points. Hundreds or thousands of academic points were never considered a big burden. However, Columbia, Sif, Howard, and Professor Robert, who just came running over to place the bet, all bet on credits.
He had originally thought that he could make a fortune, but now he has to lose even his pants. Naturally, he is very sad. It seems that he will have to queue for food for a long time in the future.
After everyone present realized what was happening, they cheered.
No matter what the outcome is, the winner will ultimately receive honor, which is the treatment of the strong.
Arnold walked behind Jobutran, pushed him back to the dining table, and patted Jobutran's shoulder gently.
"It seems your sword skills are not rusty."
"I didn't use it enough, otherwise I would have made his weapon slip out of his hand with the first strike."
Joet Brown raised the corner of his mouth and said proudly.
Although my victory was justified, the most important thing was that I did not embarrass my mentor.
"Let me introduce to you all, this is my mentor, Arnold Lenz."
Joet Brown then introduced his companions to Arnold one by one, even the new tour guide Howard, whom he just met today.
They were chatting happily at the dining table, but it was cold and deserted next to Fok, who was still standing stupidly in the restaurant.
The flattering lackeys and women who usually followed him left him without a word because of the defeat in this duel.
It was good enough that they didn't say anything slanderous. The contempt in the eyes of others looking at him hurt Fok's self-esteem, which had been inflated and then thwarted by this battle.
I had just seen my brother's homosexual behavior, and this loss seemed like I had lost everything.
I once thought that I could have the support of the vice president of the student union, and with some good kung fu skills, I would be able to get along well, and I indeed lived a life of luxury.
It was not until today's defeat that I realized how immature and naive I was back then.
No achievement is gained by oneself; all that is vain.
The wooden sword lying on the ground seemed to be mocking his own incompetence and stupidity for provoking the dean in public.
Fok sneered at himself and was about to turn around and leave.
At this moment, a word came to my ears.
"Hey, you whore, come here for a moment."
The people around me were all sneering and mocking, but this shout was so harsh.
I saw Joet Brown sitting in a wheelchair and waving lazily at Falk.
"I'm calling you."
Fok walked towards Joet Brown like a zombie.
"I lost, what else do you want
Humiliate me? Or kill me according to the ancient knight's code?"
"Huh? Why would I do that?"
Jobtran spread his hands in confusion.
“Thanks to you, my friends earned a lot of credits.
You look so pitiful. Do you want to eat something with us
I'm starving. I haven't had a hot meal in a while, and now it's cold."
Upon hearing this, Fok lowered his head in shame.
"I'm just a loser."
"Even the defeated must eat, so don't waste time."
Joet Brown pushed a plate of salad in front of Fok and started eating the cold plate of beef cheeks braised in red wine.
Fok looked at the salad in front of him and burst out laughing.
Compared with other people around him, this man who was humiliated by him didn't care at all.
My past self never possessed this kind of magnanimity, but what about my future self
Fok suddenly raised his head and looked at Joe Butran.
"Would you mind if I followed you?"
"puff!!!"
Columbia spurted out a mouthful of mushroom soup and shouted angrily,
“I was here first!”