[City of Techno]
Somewhere within the city of Techno, inside a white room, a young man with blond hair was pacing back and forth. He wore elegant yet simple clothing, and it was clear he was excited.
"I can't take it anymore, I can't wait any longer," the young man said as he approached the door.
He opened it and stepped out of the room, walking straight ahead at a fast pace, clearly in a hurry.
"Young master!!" an anxious voice called out.
The young man looked toward the voice and smiled, but even so, he didn't stop walking.
The one who called him was a girl with long, straight black hair and a youthful, pure face. In contrast, she had a very eye-catching figure, made even more noticeable by the classic maid outfit she was wearing.
"Good morning, my dear servant Cristina!!" the young man said in an excited voice, his eyes shining.
He then took her by the hand and pulled her along with him, causing the girl's face to turn completely red.
"Y-young master!!" Cristina said in a trembling voice.
"What is it?" the boy asked, looking at her suddenly and startling her, making her turn her face away.
"It's nothing," she replied softly, looking down at the floor.
He smiled and said, "Then let's go talk to my father, since he promised he would let me go to the Coliseum today." And with that, the boy continued pulling the girl along with him.
(Minutes later)
At that moment, in a long corridor made of stone and lined with large columns, a boy and a girl stood in front of a massive wooden door.
"Young master, we shouldn't disturb the master right now," Cristina said, concern evident in her voice.
The boy smiled and replied, "Don't worry, Cris, everything will be fine," he said, patting his chest confidently.
The young man then opened the door and said,
"Father, your beloved son is here to make you keep your promise. Therefore, I, William, request an audience," said the boy—or rather, the young William.
Cristina, standing behind him, could only think, Why does he always drag me into these situations? I'm just an ordinary maid… Cristina sighed.
...
[Coliseum]
Inside a dark room lit only by several candles along the walls, everything was made of stone, full of cracks and dirt mixed with moss.
At that moment, inside that dark room, there was a girl lying unconscious—but she was already about to wake up, as her eyelids slowly began to open.
"Ah… where am I?" the girl asked herself as she pushed herself up from the dirty floor.
Suddenly, memories of the previous day flooded back, making her bite her lower lip so hard that a thin line of blood ran down.
Bang.
She punched the wall with all her strength, driven by anger.
"Damn it… why did you do that, Mike?" Her voice began to tremble. "Why…?"
She rested her forehead against the wall and whispered, "Why did you try to save me? You could have run away. If you had done that, I wouldn't be feeling so guilty right now."
A small, almost imperceptible tear slipped from her eye.
"Wow! You finally woke up, girl."
A voice came from a dark corner of the cell, making Rumi turn around abruptly.
"Who's there?" Rumi asked sharply.
From the shadows of the cell, a short man stepped forward. He was neither young nor old, but much of his hair was already white. He wore brown clothes and pants, dirty and full of holes.
Upon seeing him, Rumi took a step back and raised her guard.
"Who are you?" she asked.
The man looked at her with a calm, serene expression and said with a gentle smile, "No need to be afraid of me, young one. My name is Bill. And yours?"
Rumi stared at him, still on guard, but answered, "My name is Rumi. And I'm not afraid."
Why am I even answering him? she thought. I guess Mike really made me more open toward people… but that bothers me a little.
"That's good to hear," Bill said with a relieved sigh. "When they brought you here, your body looked like it was in really bad shape."
"I was?" Rumi asked internally. But I'm sure I only took a blow to the head. That shouldn't have left me that bad…
"Yes. You had a high fever and stayed unconscious for almost an entire day after arriving here."
Almost a whole day?! That's a long time… just from a high fever? Rumi thought.
At the same time, a loud alarm echoed throughout the entire Coliseum, snapping her out of her thoughts.
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
"What's that?" Rumi asked.
"Don't worry about it," Bill replied. "It's normal here. It happens every day. See those iron bars over there?" He pointed ahead. "That alarm is just warning that they'll open in thirty seconds."
"I see," Rumi said calmly.
Bill looked at her for a moment, then said, "Now that I think about it, you're quite carefree. Since you woke up, you haven't even asked where you are or how you got here."
"Well, I can already imagine my situation. And I'm a resident of the Black Zone. There, I learned to just accept things—complaining doesn't change anything."
"You must've had a very hard life, Rumi," Bill said quietly.
"Maybe," she replied. "But going back to that gate—what's so important about it opening?"
"Nothing good. It's just the time when the gladiators are allowed to walk around the Coliseum. And that's exactly the problem," Bill said grimly. "They like killing each other during that time."
Rumi continued listening as she watched the cell door beginning to open.
"Normally, they don't come after me, since I'm weak and killing me wouldn't be fun. But now that you're here… they like killing women even more than men."
"I see," Rumi said calmly. "So once the cell opens, some people will come try to kill me, right?"
"That's right. So even if it's probably impossible, you should try to hide. The cells stay open for only two hours. After that, we have to be back inside—or we're executed."
"Yeah… that doesn't sound like a bad plan," Rumi replied. "But it's already a bit too late for that."
Bill quickly turned his head toward the cell door.
It was already fully open.
Two muscular men were stepping inside.
Damn it… I should've explained this faster, Bill thought.
"Well, to be honest," Rumi said, a crooked smile forming on her lips, "I was really in need of blowing off some steam."
...
[City of Techno] (a few minutes before Rumi wakes up)
The city of Techno rose like a monument to progress—cold, precise, and relentless. Unlike the Black Zone, where chaos reigned freely, Techno was too organized, too clean, too perfect. Tall buildings of metal and glass dominated the skyline, reflecting artificial lights that never went out. There, night and day barely made a difference; the city was always awake.
Wide streets cut through the city in exact lines, where silent vehicles glided endlessly. Giant screens displayed advertisements, news, and spectacles, distracting the eyes and muffling any inconvenient thoughts. Everything in Techno seemed to function efficiently—people, machines, and even emotions.
But behind that advanced appearance lay a rigid hierarchy. The wealthy lived in the upper levels, surrounded by comfort, security, and cutting-edge technology. The lower levels, closer to the walls that separated Techno from the Black Zone, were inhabited by workers, servants, and those who sustained the city without ever truly enjoying it.
At the heart of Techno stood the Coliseum—not merely as an arena, but as a symbol. A cruel reminder that even in a city proud of its future, entertainment was still built on the suffering of others. Applauded by the rich, feared by the poor, and fed by the Black Zone.
Techno was not just a city.
It was a system.
And for those who lived in its shadow, entering it meant changing one's fate—for better… or for worse.
At that exact moment, in a certain part of the city, two hooded figures were walking through the streets. They were William and Cristina.
"Young master, I really don't think we should sneak out like this right after your father refused to let you go to the Coliseum," Cristina said, worry clear in her voice.
"Don't worry, Cris. He won't even notice," William replied with a smile. "Just relax. Let's keep going."
And so, the two of them continued on their way toward the Coliseum.
...
[In the Coliseum] (Rumi's cell)
"Heh heh heh… little girl, there's no need to be scared. We promise we won't be too rough with you," one of the men said.
"Heh heh heh, yeah. At most we'll just cut off a few fingers and break a few bones," the other man added.
The two men began walking toward Rumi until they surrounded her. One of them was holding a knife, pointing it straight at her.
"Are you two just going to keep talking, or are you coming already? Or are you waiting for me to sing a song?" Rumi said mockingly.
That was enough to irritate them.
The men lunged at her at once. In that instant, a thin layer of purple mana appeared around Rumi's body, and she quickly ducked, narrowly evading their attacks.
They were surprised by her movement, and before they could react, Rumi swept the legs of the man holding the knife, knocking him to the ground. Using one hand to push herself up, she immediately delivered a powerful kick to the stomach of the unarmed man, sending him flying into the wall.
When he crashed into it, he spat out a mouthful of blood.
Rumi swiftly grabbed the knife from the man she had knocked down, jumped on top of him, and slit his throat. A massive amount of blood gushed out like a waterfall. Without hesitation, she then hurled the knife into the head of the man who had hit the wall.
In less than ten seconds, both muscular men were dead.
Rumi stood up, walked over, retrieved the knife, and turned toward Bill, who was staring at her in shock.
What was his name again? she thought.
"Bill," Rumi said calmly.
"Y-yes," Bill replied, still stunned.
"Do you have any idea how many people kill each other in this place just for fun?" Rumi asked as she wiped the blood splattered across her face.
Bill looked confused, but answered anyway. "I think it's around a hundred or less. Most of them ended up here because they were sold… or because they had huge debts to someone."
Rumi looked toward the cell's exit.
"I see."
She started walking toward the exit when Bill called out to her.
"But why do you want to know that?"
Without turning back, Rumi replied, "I just decided I want to do some cleaning today. I'm in a bad mood."
She left the cell, leaving Bill behind, completely confused about what she meant.
[In the corridor]
Rumi walked through the corridor, holding the knife in her right hand, when five men appeared in front of her. All of them were well-built, their muscular bodies and predatory gazes making their intentions clear.
Alright. Found the next ones, Rumi thought.
Without giving any warning or saying a single word, she charged straight at them. The men immediately went on guard. When she got close enough, Rumi leaped over them, landing on the other side.
Before they could even turn around, she slit the throat of the first man, blood spraying everywhere. The second tried to punch her, but Rumi spun her body and drove the knife deep into his head.
While her back was turned, two men jumped at her at the same time. Sensing the danger behind her, Rumi dropped instantly, lowering her head until it nearly touched the floor, causing the men to fly right over her.
Reacting in an instant, she pushed herself up with both hands and struck them with both feet—one kick for each man.
While still airborne and facing backward, the last man appeared behind her, trying to stab her with a knife. Rumi reacted quickly, grabbing the man she had stabbed in the head and using his body as a shield. Then, using all her strength, she spun midair and landed on the ground.
She immediately jumped again, grabbed one of the men she had kicked by the head, and slammed him into the floor with full force, creating a pool of blood. Still in the air, Rumi threw her knife at the other man, who was already collapsing—she had retrieved the blade when she used the corpse as a shield.
Rumi landed and looked at the last remaining man. He was trying to pull the knife out of his companion when, without realizing it, a fist smashed into his face, driving him into the ground and killing him instantly.
Rumi exhaled slowly.
"That's seven already. There's still a long way to go… Will two hours be enough?" she wondered.
"Well, I guess I'll have to speed things up," Rumi said as she started running through the corridors of the Coliseum.
(Minutes later)
Rumi moved through the corridors of the Coliseum like a living shadow.
The alarm continued to echo in the distance, mixed with screams, laughter, and the metallic clash of weapons. Every corner revealed more loose gladiators—some hunting, others merely waiting for a chance to strike someone weaker.
She gave them no such chance.
The first group tried to surround her in a narrow corridor. Rumi charged straight at them, slid across the blood-soaked floor, and sliced the tendon of one of them before he could even react. The man fell screaming. The other two hesitated— a fatal mistake. One had his throat cut. The other tried to flee, but the knife pierced his back.
Rumi didn't stop to confirm anything.
She moved on.
In the inner courtyard, three gladiators were fighting among themselves. She watched for a second. When the winner raised his arms in triumph, Rumi appeared behind him and took him down with a single precise strike. The other two barely had time to turn around.
The floor of the Coliseum began to stain red.
As she advanced, some gladiators started to notice the pattern. Shouts spread through the halls.
"It's her!"
"A girl with a knife!"
"Watch out!"
Rumi heard them.
She didn't care.
Each step felt lighter than the last. Each movement, sharper. Rage, guilt, pain—everything merged into something cold and focused. There was no hesitation. No mercy.
On a broken staircase, a man tried to attack her from above. Rumi dodged, used the rusted railing for momentum, and snapped his neck on impact. Farther ahead, two charged at her together. She threw the knife, hitting one, ripped a weapon from the floor, and finished the other without slowing down.
Bodies began to pile up.
The Coliseum—built for the spectacle of death—was now witnessing something different.
Hunters were becoming prey.
Rumi felt her heart pounding, yet her mind was strangely silent. Every face that fell before her blended into a memory—the smile of Mike, his final words, the weight of losing him.
This is for you, she thought, wiping blood from her face with her forearm.
In the distance, some gladiators chose to hide. Others, driven by pride or madness, still tried to face her.
None of them succeeded.
When Rumi finally paused, leaning against a cracked wall, the ground around her was littered with bodies. Her breathing was heavy, her arm ached, her body screamed for rest.
But she straightened up.
"This isn't over yet," she murmured.
Then she started running again.
Time was still passing—until she finally reached the cafeteria.
The Coliseum's refectory was a vast hall, with long stone tables, thick columns, and a floor stained by years of dried blood, spilled food, and filth. Lanterns fixed to the walls cast a yellowish, unstable light, creating long shadows that moved like living creatures.
Rumi entered in silence.
For a second, everything went quiet.
Then she saw them.
Twenty gladiators.
Big men, scarred, armed with knives, axes, iron bars, and short swords. Some stood atop the tables, others blocked the exits. They all stared at her with different expressions—hatred, fear, excitement.
They were organized.
One of them stepped forward and smiled.
Rumi tightened her grip on the knife.
The air grew heavy.
Then someone shouted:
"Kill her!"
They charged at the same time.
The refectory erupted into chaos.
Rumi ran straight toward the center—not to flee, but to break their formation. A blade came from the left—she ducked and slashed the attacker's tendon, making him fall screaming. Before his body hit the ground, Rumi twisted and buried the knife into another man's neck, using the momentum to pull it back out, already drenched in blood.
An axe came down from above. She rolled beneath a table, felt the wood explode above her, and burst out the other side, kicking the man's leg out from under him. When he fell, Rumi snapped his neck with a dry crack.
Two came at her together.
She threw the knife at one, hitting him in the eye. She ripped an iron bar from the other's hands and drove it into his throat. Blood splattered across the walls.
Three leapt from the tables.
Rumi ran toward a column, jumped off it, pushed her body backward, and spun in midair. Her feet struck two of them in the face at once, slamming them into the ground. Before the third could react, she grabbed a fallen knife and plunged it into his chest.
Now they were screaming.
"She's not human!"
"Surround her!"
"DON'T LET HER BREATHE!"
Rumi breathed.
And advanced.
She used the chaos itself as a weapon. One gladiator tried to grab her from behind—she threw herself forward, flipping him over her shoulder and hurling him into two others. She grabbed a fallen sword, spun her body, slit one throat, then another, then pierced the abdomen of a third without stopping.
The floor was slick with blood.
Bodies fell one after another.
A huge man managed to land a heavy blow on her shoulder. Rumi groaned, staggered… and smiled.
She advanced anyway.
She jumped onto the central table, ran across it while blows shattered the stone behind her, and at the end leapt into the middle of the remaining group, swinging the blade in a perfect arc.
Three fell together.
The last five hesitated.
That was the end.
Rumi ran.
She was too fast. Too precise. Too relentless.
When the last gladiator tried to flee, he slipped on his own blood. Rumi caught up to him, turned his face upward, and stared into his eyes for a second.
"It's over."
The strike was quick.
Silence.
The refectory was destroyed.
Twenty bodies scattered across the floor, broken tables, walls painted red.
Rumi stood in the center of the hall, her chest rising and falling, her body trembling with exhaustion. Blood dripped from her arms, her clothes, her hair.
She closed her eyes for a moment.
Mike.
Then, without her realizing it, tears began to pour from her eyes nonstop, as if something inside her had finally broken.
Footsteps were heard behind her.
Rumi spun around quickly, her eyes still full of tears, and pointed the knife at the person behind her.
At that moment—perhaps because of her emotional state, or because of the bloody scene—Rumi froze completely at the sight before her.
The person standing there was simply a beautiful woman with long purple hair, a gentle appearance, holding a baby in her arms. The baby looked like a little girl, and she too had purple hair.
Confused by the situation, wondering why that woman would appear so naturally in a place like that, Rumi asked:
"Who are you?"
"Are you all right, miss? Why are you crying?" the woman asked softly.
Rumi wiped her tears and repeated,
"Who are you?" this time pointing the knife at the woman's neck.
Seeing that, the woman smiled and said,
"My name is Mia, and this lovely baby here is my daughter." She lifted the baby slightly to show her to Rumi and continued, "Her name is Mira."