My Charity System made me too OP

Back on stage, Leon looked at the red-faced Rudeus and mumbled,

"I was aiming for his neck…?"

He had intended to knock Rudeus out instantly by striking his neck, but midway, Rudeus moved unexpectedly, and Leon's hand veered off course, landing a loud face slap instead.

"Poor guy… well, good luck recovering from that humiliation," Leon muttered as he stepped off the stage.

"Damn, Leon! That was brutal! You completely destroyed him!" Ragnar laughed.

Leon raised an eyebrow.

'Does he have some kind of fetish to huimiliate others?' he thought dryly.

"It was well deserved," Vanessa said, crossing her arms. "That bastard has been acting high and mighty for too long."

Aeron smirked. "Man, he's never gonna recover from this. His whole reputation is in the gutter now."

Leon looked at them, dumbfounded.

"Who's Rudeus?" he asked, genuinely confused.

"What?!" The three of them stared at him in disbelief.

Aeron was the first to speak. "If you don't even know who he is, why did you slap him in front of so many people?!"

"Do you enjoy humiliating others?" Ragnar asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You're cruel," Vanessa added with a smirk.

"Shut up! It was an accident!" Leon shot back, irritated. He quickly explained what had happened—how he had actually aimed for Rudeus' neck but ended up slapping him instead.

"Well, good for you anyway," Ragnar shrugged. "He was that annoying rich brat from our orphanage days. You know, the one who always came to show off his expensive toys?"

Leon blinked. "Oh, so it was him? No wonder I found him irritating," he said, finally realizing who Rudeus was.

The group sighed in unison, shaking their heads.

But none of them spared another glance at Rudeus, who was still lying there, stunned.

The spoiled rich kid who always came to show off… had finally been put in his place.

"Hmm, the second match is over too. Guess it's my turn now," Aeron said as the others bid him good luck.

As he stepped forward, he took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a brief moment to steady himself. When the match began, he wasted no time—his illusions clouded the arena, confusing his opponent before swiftly taking him down.

Next was Vanessa's match. She dominated her fight with a single fiery strike, overwhelming her opponent in seconds.

Finally, it was Ragnar's turn. Unlike the others, he relied on raw strength, pummeling his opponent into submission with a single powerful punch.

And so, the top five were chosen, with the final ranking match on the horizon. The tournament was reaching its climax, and the anticipation in the arena was at its peak.

Aside from them, there was one other contender—a sword user who had yet to reveal any of his abilities.

"He's strong," Leon commented, his eyes narrowing as he observed the mysterious swordsman.

Ragnar glanced at him. "Is he?"

Leon nodded, keeping his gaze locked on the man.

The swordsman had sleek black hair and red eyes, dressed in a plain yet elegant attire, resembling someone straight out of a cultivation novel. He sat with an air of serenity, seemingly unbothered by the competition.

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"He's handsome," Vanessa noted, admiring his composed demeanor.

Ragnar scoffed. "Then I feel bad for the guy."

Before he could react, Vanessa smacked him on the shoulder, her irritation evident as Ragnar chuckled, dodging her next playful strike.

Leon smirked at their antics before turning his attention back to the mysterious swordsman. There was something about him—a quiet confidence, a stillness that spoke of power. Unlike the others who had showcased their abilities to some extent, this guy remained an enigma.

"What's his name?" Leon asked, curious.

Aeron glanced at the tournament board and replied, "Kieran Ashford. Not much information about him, but he hasn't lost a single match so far. Seems like he's been winning without drawing his sword."

Leon raised an eyebrow. "Without using his sword?"

"Yeah," Aeron confirmed. "Either he's hiding his real strength, or he's just toying with his opponents."

Ragnar crossed his arms, his competitive nature kicking in. "Tch, I hope I get to fight him. I want to see if he's the real deal or just another fraud relying on reputation."

Vanessa, still annoyed at Ragnar, added, "You'd probably get cut down before you even realized what happened."

"Ha! As if!" Ragnar scoffed.

As they chatted, the tournament announcer's voice echoed across the arena.

"Attention! The final matches will now begin!"

The crowd erupted into cheers as the remaining contestants stepped forward.

"Since there are five of you, one will get a bye, and the other four will fight. Go and draw the lots," the announcer said.

Leon, Vanessa, Ragnar, and Aeron stepped forward to draw their sticks, while Kieran stood calmly, waiting for the results.

One by one, they revealed their sticks.

Leon: Match 1

Aeron: Match 1

Vanessa: Match 2

Ragnar: Match 2

Kieran: Bye

The crowd murmured in excitement. Kieran Ashford had automatically advanced to the next round.

"Tch, lucky bastard," Ragnar muttered.

"Or unlucky," Aeron chuckled. "Now he'll have to face someone who's already warmed up while he's been standing around."

Leon didn't mind. His focus was on Aeron now.

"Guess we're first," Leon said, looking at Aeron, who smirked.

"Don't hold back," Aeron said, cracking his knuckles. "I want to see what you're really capable of."

Leon grinned. "Same to you."

The arena fell silent as Leon and Aeron stepped onto the battlefield. The announcer raised his hand.

"Begin!"

Aeron wasted no time, activating his illusion magic immediately.

"Phantom Mirage!"

Leon's vision blurred as multiple copies of Aeron appeared around him, moving in unpredictable patterns. Some were charging at him, others hanging back, preparing to strike.

The crowd gasped—Aeron's illusions were nearly indistinguishable from the real thing!

But Leon remained calm.

He had no need for vision.

With a deep breath, he activated his ability—Miracle eyes.

Instantly, the entire battlefield became clear in his mind.

Aeron was trying to hide his real body among the clones, but Leon could feel the faintest energy fluctuations coming from one figure—the real Aeron.

"Found you."

Leon vanished.

Before Aeron could react, Leon reappeared right behind him.

BAM!

A brutal kick sent Aeron flying across the stage, crashing into the barrier with a loud impact.

The illusions shattered like glass.

The crowd roared.

"How did he see through it?!" someone shouted.