It was late into the night, and the rented apartment had sunk into a dead silence. On the living room sofa, Kento suddenly snapped his eyes open. His deep, hollow black eyes swept across the room. Shin's large bed was empty, and there was no sign of Ling Mo in his corner either.
Kento sat up slightly, muttering in a raspy voice:
— "Where did Shin and Ling Mo go at this hour? Probably pulling a night shift at that burger joint from this afternoon, I guess?"
He stood up, walking silently toward Loona's room. Gently cracking the door open, he peered inside. After confirming that his little sister was sleeping soundly tucked under the blankets of her soft bed, Kento securely closed the door. He threw on his black jacket and decisively left the apartment, heading straight back to the Taekwondo dojo from earlier that day.
When Kento pushed the doors open, the scene inside the dojo was a far cry from the devastated ruins of the afternoon. Neon lights blazed brightly, and dozens of heavily muscled disciples were busy preparing their gear and wrapping cloth tape around their hands and feet with dead-serious expressions. And the sole person this entire crowd was patiently waiting for was none other than Kento.
Seeing this massive lineup, Kento slightly raised an eyebrow and spoke up:
— "Quite a turnout. Is this entire black market hosting a martial arts tournament tonight or something? You guys are awfully busy."
From the main hall, the master, sitting in a wheelchair pushed by a disciple, emerged. His entire body was wrapped in stark white bandages, but his spirit seemed to have somewhat recovered. He explained:
— "You don't know the half of it. Tonight, it's not just us; many dojos from various martial arts disciplines will be participating. This is a massive, recurring event held once every four months. A lot of heavy hitters, gang bosses, and the most hardened underground fighters in the capital will be there. Naturally, the prize money for the last man standing is insanely lucrative."
Kento gave him a lazy once-over before casually interrupting:
— "By the way, what's your name again, old man? I was too busy beating you up earlier to ask."
The master paused for a moment, then bowed his head slightly, answering seriously:
— "My name is Choi Hyun-seok, the owner of this Taekwondo dojo."
— "Hyun-seok, huh? Sounds pretty tough." Kento gave a faint nod, then cast his eyes around the crowd. "Where's the lackey who offered me a smoke earlier? Got any cigarettes left?"
— "Yes! I still have some, boss!" The disciple scrambled out from the crowd, offering a brand-new pack of cigarettes and a lighter with both hands, bowing subserviently. "Please, take them, boss!"
— "Good." Kento pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and exhaled a long drag of white smoke. He glanced at Choi Hyun-seok in the wheelchair, smirking. "So, are we leaving now, or are we waiting for someone else?"
— "No need, we will personally guide you there!" Choi Hyun-seok signaled for his disciple to push the wheelchair forward.
Kento strolled leisurely beside the wheelchair, not forgetting to drop one of his signature mocking remarks:
— "Looking so pathetic you have to be wheeled around, yet you still have the bloodlust to go watch a fight. Hardcore old man."
The group from the Taekwondo dojo, along with Kento, quickly moved to an obscured area behind the city center. Rising before them was a colossal alloy gate, towering over a gaping passageway that led straight down into the earth. Guarding the entrance were dozens of men in black suits and sunglasses, exuding a heavy, murderous aura.
Upon seeing the emblem and insignia of the Taekwondo dojo, the guards silently pressed a button. The heavy gate groaned open, allowing the group to proceed.
The deeper they descended, the more the space expanded. And as they passed the final bend, a completely different world slammed into Kento's view. This place was illuminated by bustling lights, no less vibrant than the surface, but it carried a chaotic, reeking, and frenzied atmosphere of a miniature subterranean city. Stalls were packed tightly together, selling every kind of contraband imaginable.
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And the most utterly disgusting thing was that they openly sold the flesh of alien races as food ingredients. Kento stopped in front of a large butcher stall where massive slabs of meat dripping with fresh blood hung suspended. The obese stall owner, his apron soaked in blood, saw Kento and eagerly greeted him in a grotesque voice:
— "Oh, is the young friend picking out some groceries? Come here, come take a look! This right here is 100% fresh Beastman meat, incredibly firm texture, smells absolutely divine when grilled! And over here are the thighs of a green-skinned species, extremely succulent."
As he spoke, the butcher threw back a tarp, revealing trays of still-steaming organs:
— "And here we have Beastman offal, very fresh and delicious, my friend. Or, if you're looking for something that really stimulates the taste buds... look over here! These are the heads of Half-breeds. I've already filtered out the finest, freshest brains on this side. Take one bite, and I guarantee you'll be addicted to the high!"
Kento stared at the pile of severed heads and Half-breed brains displayed like pork on the wooden table. His face didn't shift a single millimeter, his deep black eyes radiating a terrifying, freezing cold. He replied flatly:
— "... Never mind. I'm just looking."
With that, he indifferently turned his back and continued walking with Choi Hyun-seok's group. The fat butcher snorted, grumbling in annoyance:
— "Tch... What a waste of time. First customer of the night and it's a window-shopper. Hey! You brats, what are you standing around for? Hurry up and chop the rest of those Half-breed corpses and get them into the roasting oven, the crowd's going to peak soon!"
The group pressed on past sweltering underground clubs, where LED lights flashed frantically to bass-heavy music that pounded against the chest. Directly adjacent to it was the slave auction block.
Inside a rusted iron cage sat a young girl from the Avian race. She possessed a petite frame, but her arms were wings covered in ash-gray feathers. Seeing Kento walk past, the pitiful girl reached her scrawny wings through the bars, her tear-flooded eyes begging silently: "Please save me... or please, just buy me..."
Kento stopped, his hands clasped behind his back, staring directly into the avian girl's eyes for a moment. But then, he coldly turned his head away and continued walking without a shred of hesitation, muttering a ruthless sentence:
— "I am not obligated, nor do I have the free time, to come to a place like this just to play savior to the weak."
Passing by another massive slaughterhouse, Kento witnessed alien beings suspended upside down from ceiling beams by iron meat hooks, their abdomens sliced open to harvest organs as blood pooled across the floor—no different from cattle or pigs in an abattoir. Giant cleavers lopped off heads, which dropped onto wooden tables to be sold to customers, while severed arms and legs were chopped into pieces and tossed straight into industrial meat grinders.
Suddenly, amidst the chaotic crowd of the black market, Kento's gaze involuntarily halted as a familiar silhouette drifted past. He narrowed his eyes, unsure of who it was, then clicked his tongue and dismissed it:
— "Looked awfully familiar... But whatever, not my problem."
As he walked, he lightly touched his chin, a sudden curiosity befitting a battle-crazed sociopath springing to mind:
— "Gotta admit though... I wonder what that meat actually tastes like for the humans here to sell and eat so much of it? Must be pretty damn good, huh?"
After navigating through the black market drenched in the stench of blood and money, the group finally arrived at their destination: The Capital's Underground Arena.
It was a colossal, bird's-nest-shaped domed colosseum, illuminated by hundreds of high-wattage floodlights beaming straight down onto the central alloy fighting ring. Surrounding the ring were multi-tiered grandstands packed with tens of thousands of spectators screaming and cheering maniacally, generating a suffocatingly hot and frenzied atmosphere.
Inside the exclusive gladiator waiting room, hundreds of individuals representing various martial arts disciplines, freestyle brawlers, and lone assassins were warming up and lining up, preparing for combat.
Kento stood in a corner with his arms crossed. His razor-sharp eyes swept the waiting room before locking onto a few specific targets. He pointed a finger, asking Choi Hyun-seok:
— "In that dark corner, there's a guy standing dead silent. Looks pretty mysterious. Who is he?"
Choi Hyun-seok looked where Kento pointed and shivered slightly, replying in a hushed tone:
— "Be careful with him. That's an infamous serial killer wanted by the Federation. He's only participating here to satiate his bloodlust."
— "What about that heavily armored gang strapped with guns and daggers over there?" Kento asked next.
— "That's a syndicate of high-level bounty hunters. They're here for the prize money and to hone their real-combat skills."
— "And who is that titan sitting on the iron chair, as massive as a mountain with those bulging muscles?"
Choi Hyun-seok swallowed hard, his voice trembling:
— "That guy... is the undisputed champion of this underground world. He has successfully defended the championship belt for three consecutive tournaments!"
Hearing this, Kento exhaled a thin stream of smoke. His eyes revealed clear disappointment mixed with sheer arrogance as he shook his head:
— "How boring... Looking around, not a single one of these guys has the caliber to even pique my interest."
Choi Hyun-seok gaped at the black-haired teenager before him, only able to offer a bitter smile:
— "You... you truly have to be an absolute monster to casually say something like that in front of these killers."
Right at that moment, the arena's high-powered PA system blared to life. A man holding a microphone stepped into the center of the ring, roaring at the top of his lungs:
— "HELLO! ALRIGHT, MIC IS HOT! WELCOME TO ALL THE SPECTATORS AND GLADIATORS WHO HAVE GATHERED HERE IN FULL FORCE TONIGHT!"
The screams from the stands erupted like rolling thunder. The announcer continued bellowing:
— "TONIGHT IS THE BIGGEST UNDERGROUND TOURNAMENT, HELD ONCE EVERY FOUR MONTHS, GRACED BY ULTRA-WEALTHY SPECTATORS FLOCKING IN FROM ALL OVER! THE RULES FOR TONIGHT ARE EXTREMELY SIMPLE: THERE ARE NO RULES! FIGHTERS MUST BATTLE WITH THEIR BARE FISTS UNTIL THEIR OPPONENT SUBMITS OR IS BEATEN TO DEATH! IF ANYONE DIES, THE ORGANIZERS WILL TAKE FULL RESPONSIBILITY!"
The announcer hoisted a case filled with glittering electronic credit chips high into the air:
— "BUT THERE IS ONE PREREQUISITE CONDITION FOR THIS TOURNAMENT: THE USE OF SOPHION ENERGY IS ABSOLUTELY FORBIDDEN! ONLY PURE PHYSICAL STRENGTH AND MARTIAL ARTS SKILLS ARE ALLOWED! AND THE PRIZE FOR THE LAST MAN STANDING, TONIGHT'S ULTIMATE CHAMPION, IS... 250,000 SOPHION COINS!!! PLEASE WAIT 10 MORE MINUTES WHILE THE ORGANIZERS FINALIZE THE MATCH BRACKETS! THANK YOU!"
Hearing the prize amount, Kento's black eyes suddenly flared with a brilliant light, and a ruthless smile crept across his face:
— "Oh ho... A whole 250,000 Sophion Coins? That's an astronomical sum. That's more than enough to pay off the landlady and cover little Loona's education and living expenses for a lifetime."
Sitting in his wheelchair, Choi Hyun-seok had beads of sweat dripping down his face:
— "The prize this time... is absolutely insane! The matches are guaranteed to be extremely bloody."
Kento tossed his cigarette to the floor and crushed it out with the tip of his shoe. Staring straight out at the blazing fighting ring, he spoke with palpable anticipation:
— "I'm really looking forward to seeing... which fighter those stupid spectators out there are going to bet the most money on! Let's get this party started!"
END OF CHAPTER 23