The cage smelled of rust and dried blood. It was not just a ring. It was a prison made of chain link mesh and steel beams that towered like rib cages. All around, the "normal" members of the Fourth Division had gathered. Men and women with oil stained hands, scars on their faces, and cigarettes in the corners of their mouths. They sat on boxes, leaned against the walls, or hung from the fence. They did not cheer. They were silent. It was the silence of vultures waiting for the animal to stop twitching.
I stood in the middle. My fists were heavy, and my breath was already faster than I liked. Opposite me Zayne.
He stood there completely relaxed. His hands were buried deep in the pockets of his wide pants. His gaze was not directed at my face, but somewhere through me. He seemed bored. But I felt it. The air around him was different. Colder. It felt as if he were measuring the room.
Rioji leaned against the gate, his arms crossed over his chest.
"The rules are simple," he shouted, his voice cutting through the silence. "There are no rules. Zayne will not kill you as long as you do not bore him. Your goal is not to win. Your goal is to survive ten minutes without blowing your Shinsei lines."
He grinned wickedly.
"Begin!"
"The Pawn and the Player"
I did not wait. Attack is the best defense, Aria had always said. I pushed off. The floor vibrated under my feet. I was fast, faster than before, thanks to the training. I aimed for Zayne's head. A straight, hard punch. He does not move, I thought triumphantly. He is too arrogant.
My fist raced toward his face. Ten centimeters left. Five. And then... he was gone.
I hit nothing but air. The momentum pulled me forward. I stumbled, just barely caught myself, and spun around. Zayne stood two meters to my left. He still had his hands in his pockets. His gaze rested on me, empty and judgmental, as if he had already calculated my failure.
"Too much movement," he said. His voice was calm and monotonous. "You are wasting energy. Your body betrays you even before the thought takes shape."
"Shut up!" I screamed.
I attacked again. This time a combination. A kick to the knee, followed by a hook. Again, nothing. He did not simply dodge. He glided. It was as if he knew exactly where my foot would land before I even lifted it. He moved in a strange, angular pattern. One step to the side, one to the back. Always at a right angle.
"You think linearly," he analyzed coldly. "You are like a pawn on the board. You can only walk straight ahead. But this here..."
He finally raised a hand. Violet light flickered around his fingers. The air around us distorted. For a second, I no longer saw the floor of the cage as metal plates, but as a grid pattern of glowing lines.
"...this is my board. And you are in check."
CHECKMATE.
Zayne took a step. But it was not a normal step. He moved in an L-pattern. Like a knight in chess. In one moment he stood before me, in the next he was in my blind spot. I did not feel the blow coming. I only felt the impact. A hard kick into my kidneys. I gasped and collapsed like a pocketknife.
Laughter came from the stands. "The new guy is dancing like a drunk!" one of the White Wolves shouted.
"Shut your mouth. If I can stand, I am not finished yet."
I scrambled up. Pain pulsed in my side. Zayne stood there again. Untouched.
"You fight with instinct," he said with contempt. "Instinct is for animals. I analyze. I see your muscle tension. I see your breathing rhythm. I have already won this fight before you even entered the ring."
Rage. Pure rage rose within me. The humming in my blood became louder. Let it out, it whispered. Ignite everything. Burn him. My skin began to glow white. The air around me crackled.
"NO!" Rioji roared from the side. "Suppress it! If you ignite, I will break your neck!"
"Dammit."
I grit my teeth. I pushed the white light back. It hurt. It felt as if I were swallowing acid.
"The Black Bishop"
Zayne observed my struggle with myself with cool interest.
"You are unstable. A bug in the system. Time to end this."
He stretched out his right hand. The violet resonance condensed. It became solid. Dark. A weapon materialized in his hand. A long, black lance, thin as a needle, but surrounded by an aura that seemed to distort the space.
LANCE OF THE BLACK BISHOP.
"Bishop takes pawn," he murmured.
He charged. This time he was not passive. He was incredibly fast. I raised my arms for cover. But he did not come from the front. He... jumped. Diagonally. It looked like teleportation. He dissolved into violet streaks and appeared diagonally behind me. The lance hissed. The shaft hit me in the back. It felt as if an iron pipe had struck me. I flew forward and slammed face-first onto the ground.
I tasted blood. Get up, I thought. Get up, damn it. I rolled to the side, just in time, as the tip of the lance struck where my head had been. Sparks flew.
Zayne was merciless. He used the lance like a staff, dancing around me, striking, vanishing, appearing from a new angle. Diagonally. Always diagonally. I could not follow him. My eyes were too slow for his dimension. I was a punching bag. Every hit was precisely calculated to cause maximum pain without knocking me out immediately. He was dismantling me.
"Isolate it!" Rioji bellowed. His voice pierced through the fog of pain. "Forget the white! Look for the red! Only the red!"
The red. Kōtai. Body. Heat. I lay on the floor. Zayne stood over me, the lance raised for the final blow. His gaze was empty. He did not see a human. He saw a piece that he had to remove from the board.
I closed my eyes. I searched within the raging storm inside me. Not everything. Not the chaos. Only the blood. Only the muscles. Red. I imagined fire. A single, tiny spark. I felt a single "line" open inside me. It was difficult. It felt as if I were trying to press a rushing river through a straw.
But there it was. A burning in my right arm. Hot. Focused. No white glare. A dull, red glow beneath the skin.
"So this is what control feels like?"
Zayne lunged. I threw my arm up. Not wildly. Not frantically. But hard.
KLONG.
Metal hit my skin, but it did not give way. I had blocked the lance with my forearm. The red resonance formed a tiny, barely visible layer over my skin. The floor beneath me cracked from the pressure. But my arm held.
Zayne's eyes widened. Only by a millimeter. He had calculated that he would break my arm. The calculation was wrong.
"I am... no... pawn," I squeezed out.
I used the moment of his surprise. I struck with my other hand. Without resonance. Just a dirty uppercut like I had learned in the slums. Zayne had to let go of the lance to back away. He blocked my punch with his palm but slid a meter across the floor.
Silence in the room. Zayne straightened himself. He smoothed his shirt. The lance dissolved into violet smoke. He looked at me. No longer like a game piece. But like an opponent.
"Not bad," he said coolly. "For a beginner. But the game is over."
He snapped his fingers. A dull pressure weighed on my brain. Checkmate. My legs gave out. I did not know why. It was as if my brain had forgotten how to stand. I collapsed.
"Time is up," Rioji called.
"The Parade of Monsters"
I was not allowed to rest. No sooner had Zayne left the cage than the next one entered. The small one. Utak.
He wore gloves that looked as if they were cast from concrete. He grinned at me. It was not an evil grin. It was the grin of a child who is about to smash his new toy box.
"Boss says I am not allowed to hit full force," he said apologetically. "But it has to shake a little, right?"
He raised his fist and struck the floor. No technique. No strategy. Just pure Kōtai power.
TREMOR SMASH.
The floor beneath me literally exploded. A shockwave raced through the steel. I was thrown upward, losing all orientation. Utak was with me instantly. He was terrifyingly fast for his stature. Or perhaps I was just too slow. He rammed his shoulder into my stomach. It felt as if a rhino had hit me. I flew against the fence. The wire mesh cut into my back.
"Stand up!" Utak called cheerfully. "That was only Level 1!"
"What is he talking about? Level 1?"
I stood up. Somehow. I tried to find the red again. But my body was too shaken. I could not focus. Utak beat me through the cage; I was no match for him. He broke nothing of mine, thanks to Rioji's order, but he left bruises that would stay for weeks.
After ten minutes, Rioji whistled the end. Utak patted me on the shoulder so hard that I almost fell over again.
"You are tough, Shinsei! Most people vomit after the first tremor."
Then she came. Lynora.
She stepped into the ring, playing with one of her piercings. She did not seem threatening like Zayne or violent like Utak. She seemed... amused.
"Don't worry, sweetie," she said. "I won't touch you."
She really didn't. She just stood there and hummed a melody. At first, it was quiet. Then it became louder. But not in my ears. In my head.
PHANTOM WHISPERS.
Suddenly I heard footsteps behind me. I spun around. No one was there. Then a scream. Aria's scream. My heart stopped. "Aria?" I saw her. In the corner of my eye. She stood in the corner of the cage, covered in blood. I ran to her. But when I tried to touch her, she dissolved into smoke.
Laughter. Lynora's laughter. But it came from everywhere. From the ceiling. From the floor. "You are so weak, Kyro." It was my own voice. "You let her die.""You are trash."
I sank to my knees, pressing my hands against my ears. "Stop it!" I screamed. But the voices became louder. They dug into my brain, bringing up every fear, every doubt I ever had. I lashed out wildly, but hit only air. I was fighting ghosts.
I did not know how long it lasted. It felt like hours. When it stopped, I lay curled on the floor, soaked in sweat and trembling.
Lynora stood over me. She no longer looked mocking. She looked almost... pitying.
"You have many demons, Kyro," she whispered. "Be careful that they do not eat you before we do."
"The Judgment"
The cage was empty. The spectators had left. Only Rioji and his team were still there. I tried to stand up. My legs trembled so violently that I had to pull myself up by the fence. I was bleeding from a cut on my forehead. My ribs and my head felt like jelly.
I stood. Shaky. But I stood.
"Stand. Do not fall now."
Rioji walked toward me. He looked me up and down. He saw the bruises. The blood. The exhaustion. Then he nodded. Just once.
"You are still standing."
He threw me a towel.
"You fought like a blind idiot. Your technique is garbage. Your control is non existent."
I pressed the towel against my forehead. Say nothing. Listen! "But," I murmured hoarsely, barely audible, "I did not stay down."
Rioji did not react to that. But his gaze remained on me a moment longer.
He turned to the others. Zayne leaned against the wall, Utak drank water, Lynora observed me.
"But he managed the block," Zayne said quietly. "Once. Against the lance. He isolated the red."
Rioji snorted.
"A lucky hit. But a beginning." Not bad, kid.
He looked at me again.
"You are now officially the whelp of this pack, Kyro. You are the weakest here. That means you get the most beatings. Every day. Until you learn to bite back."
He pointed toward the exit.
"To the infirmary with you. Patch yourself up. Tomorrow morning, same time. And bring more rage."
I limped out of the cage. Every step hurt. But as I passed Zayne, he briefly took his hands out of his pockets and nodded to me. No smile. No friendship. But respect.
I was no longer a street kid. I was the punching bag of the Fourth Division. And damn it, I would be the toughest punching bag they had ever hit.