The arena lights dim slowly.
The Chairman lifts the microphone and says- "This time... not one." "Three fighters." "At once."
A low murmur spreads through the crowd.
Someone says, "Earlier we underestimated this kid and lost money betting on him. But now? No way he survives this. We'll recover our losses today. If he were fighting alone, I'd still bet on him."
Just then, the first of the three fighters enters the arena.
He steps forward.
Lean, wiry body.
Sharp, predatory eyes.
Deep scars carved into both elbows-
as if someone had shaped them with a blade.
The commentator announces- "ELBOW SERPENT.
A Muay Thai variant where the rules are already dead.
Faces stop being recognizable after his elbows land."
He smiles.
A creepy, unsettling smile.
The second fighter walks in.
Heavy build.
Neck almost nonexistent.
Hands like iron clamps.
"BONE LOCKER.
This isn't wrestling-
this man locks bones... and then breaks them."
His knuckles crack.
The third man takes his final step forward.
Perfect military posture.
Dead eyes.
A faded insignia tattooed on his chest.
"WAR GHOST.
Ex-military soldier.
He has seen more corpses in the arena than on the battlefield."
The crowd erupts.
All three stand together at the center of the arena, facing Rohan.
They are taller.
Heavier.
More imposing.
In front of them, Rohan-
despite being 5'11"-
looks smaller today for the first time.
The crowd thinks: This kid is finished.
Elbow Serpent steps forward.
His elbows rotate slowly-
like a snake lifting its head.
He looks Rohan up and down...
then laughs.
"Hey, kid..."
"Looks like your brain's shaken loose."
Bone Locker laughs along.
War Ghost remains silent, watching.
Elbow Serpent speaks again- "We're not normal fighters."
"Each one of us is a professional master of his own style."
He moves closer.
Close enough for Rohan to feel his breath.
Then, with a slow voice and a creepy smile, he whispers- "Don't worry..."
"I'll leave you in such a condition..."
"...that even your family won't recognize you."
For one second-
Everything stops.
Rohan closes his eyes.
In his mind-
his mother's burning body.
His sister's screams.
A locked room.
Their agony.
Their bodies reduced to ashes.
A single tear escapes the corner of Rohan's eye
and falls to the ground.
That was the moment-
Elbow Serpent made a mistake.
Until now, Rohan had been fighting like a human.
With rules.
With control.
But now-
What stood before them
was a demon.
In the very next instant-
Rohan grabs Elbow Serpent by the throat.
One hand.
Fingers digging into flesh.
"-GHHK!"
Elbow Serpent's eyes bulge.
Bone Locker and War Ghost attack together.
Punch.
Kick.
Elbow.
Nothing works.
Rohan's second hand rises slowly to the neck.
Now both hands.
And then-
He twists the head and neck
like wringing out wet clothes.
CRACK.
The sound echoes through the arena.
Elbow Serpent's body hangs lifeless in Rohan's grip.
The crowd goes numb.
The corpse drops to the floor.
Rohan turns slowly.
Now his gaze locks onto Bone Locker.
Bone Locker tries to show confidence.
Clinch.
Lock.
Takedown attempt.
But Rohan avoids every move-
as if he already knows them all.
Rohan lifts Bone Locker onto his shoulder.
What follows makes the Chairman rise from his seat.
"This isn't normal..."
"He can't be human..."
A face flashes through the Chairman's mind.
Berserker.
"No..."
"He's even more dangerous than that..."
(Berserker sometimes visits the arena for amusement.
He was the one who told Rohan about this place-
that's why Rohan is here.)
The arena witnesses what Rohan does next.
One hand grips Bone Locker's head.
The other grabs his leg.
He slams downward with terrifying force.
The spine snaps.
The chest bone bursts outward.
Bone Locker's body hangs over Rohan's shoulder
like a scarf.
Rohan's clothes are completely soaked in blood.
Now only one remains-
War Ghost.
Ex-military.
A man who never knew fear.
Today-
His pants are wet.
"Please!"
"Spare me!"
"Someone save me from this monster!"
"I'll give you everything I've earned in my life!"
He turns to the Chairman. "Please! Save me! I'll be your slave forever!"
The Chairman trembles. "I can't do anything..."
"These are the rules..."
"Two enter the arena..."
"Only one leaves."
War Ghost loses his mind.
He charges at Rohan.
And then-
Rohan brings all his fingers together.
One single thrust-
STRAIGHT INTO THE CHEST.
People in the arena start vomiting.
Even the Chairman trembles violently.
Sunil whispers to Bhikhari, "Where did you find this calamity?"
Bhikhari replies, "I thought he was an angel...
but he turned out to be a devil."
Rohan pulls his hand out.
In his fist-
War Ghost's heart.
War Ghost collapses.
Rohan tosses the heart into the center of the arena.
Silence.
No cheers.
No applause.
Only dripping blood...
and Rohan's breathing.
The Chairman tries to lift the microphone-
but his hands shake.
For the first time...
even the owner of the arena
is afraid of his own rules.
Rohan looks at the Chairman. "Transfer my money to my account.
I'm leaving."
The Chairman doesn't question him.
He just nods.
"Y-yes..."
"Yes... of course..."
"I'll do it right now."
His hands tremble as he signals his staff.
No one dares to ask anything.
Moments later-
Confirmation arrives.
₹50 Crore. Transferred.
The Chairman forces a smile. "You're... a very good boy, Rohan..."
"The rules here-"
Rohan turns away before he can finish.
Sunil and Bhikhari follow him.
The three leave the Chairman's office without a word.
Behind them-
The Chairman sinks into his chair.
Then his phone rings.
He pales when he sees the caller.
He answers.
Silence for a few seconds.
Then, softly- "Yes..."
"I'll try..."
The call ends.
His face turns even paler.
Hospital.
Rohan stands in the corridor.
The same hospital
where Bhikhari's daughter was hanging between life and death.
Rohan quietly transfers-
₹40 Crore - Donation.
The doctor's hands shake.
The staff stare at each other.
No one understands
who this man really is.
As they leave-
Rohan takes Bhikhari's account details
and transfers ₹2.5 Crore
for his daughter's future.
Bhikhari's legs give way.
Tears flow from his eyes.
Then Rohan transfers ₹2.5 Crore
to Sunil's account.
"You didn't ask questions," Rohan says.
"You just stayed."
Sunil can't speak.
He bows his head.
Rohan puts his phone back in his pocket.
Remaining balance-
₹5 Crore.
Enough for him.
Night falls.
Time is against him.
Roads and trains are not an option.
Rohan takes a connecting flight-
Jagdalpur to Raipur,
Raipur to Delhi,
then straight to Jammu.
And now-
Rohan is heading toward Kashmir.
But in Kashmir,
will he encounter the group responsible for his family's murder-
or an entirely different faction?
Reaper had told him
there were four bases.
But Rohan still doesn't know
which one was responsible
for the college attack.
And that uncertainty
is what makes Kashmir
far more dangerous than the arena ever was.