After several seconds that felt like entire ages… Zairos finally spoke.
The words left his mouth with great difficulty, like a faint whisper barely audible over the roaring crowd:
"O… okay… I surrender."
He said it in a voice filled with pain and despair—then his exhausted body collapsed.
At that moment, the muscular man's punches stopped. He let Zairos fall to the ground like an empty bag, then smiled arrogantly and said with clear disdain:
"You should've surrendered from the start."
Immediately, the referee's voice rose as he lifted the muscular man's hand:
"Oooooh! Our winner is—the muscular man!"
The crowd's cheers grew louder as they chanted his name in celebration of brute strength:
"The muscular man! The muscular man!"
Moments later, the same men in white uniforms entered again, their faces expressionless.
They quickly placed Zairos onto a stretcher and carried him away through the same dark corridor that had swallowed Visper before him.
The referee continued, looking toward us:
"So! We have one win for the right team, one win for the left team, and one draw!"
Then he added firmly:
"Which means… the final round will decide the winner!"
The crowd erupted in excitement, shouting and cheering.
But for me… this was exactly what I had feared most.
All this noise, all this blood… would now be decided by my match.
And judging by what I had seen, my chances of losing were very high.
Before I could sink deeper into my thoughts, the referee's voice rang out again as he raised his left arm:
"From the left team… we have the ordinary man!"
My opponent walked forward with remarkable calm. His steps were steady—not fast, not slow—as if he were taking a morning stroll.
His features were completely average, his brown hair simple. But when he waved to the crowd, it wasn't with arrogance—just a gentle, calm smile… one that felt more unsettling than reassuring.
The crowd cheered louder, chanting:
"The ordinary man! The ordinary man!"
As if they saw themselves reflected in him.
Damn… I'm not ready yet.
In just seconds, I'll be inside that arena.
And what happened to Visper or Zairos… could happen to me.
Sweat began pouring down my forehead, but I quickly took a deep breath and steadied myself—though some fear still clung to me.
The referee continued, pointing toward us:
"And from the right team, we have the
man…"
He paused.
A strange silence.
Why did he stop?
Was he waiting for the crowd to shout my name?
Or something else?
But then he continued:
"…we have the man in his thirties!"
I couldn't believe what I heard.
Couldn't he come up with a better nickname?!
I'm still in my twenties!
The crowd roared with my new, irritating title.
It felt strange… like I was part of some grand spectacle.
Well… it was nice to have so many people calling out to me…
But only if they used my name—not that ridiculous title.
Despite the tension, I stepped forward steadily into the arena, forcing a smile as I waved to the crowd.
It was both thrilling… and terrifying… to be the center of attention for hundreds of people.
When I reached the arena, the ordinary man stood before me, and the referee stood between us, smiling widely as if watching an entertaining show.
That's when I realized…There was no escape this time.
This wasn't just a battle within myself anymore—
It was between me and this strange opponent they called "ordinary."
…
Then, without any warning, the referee's loud voice cut through the tension:
"Alright… the round will begin in—one… two… three… go!"
He quickly left the arena, leaving me alone with my opponent in that bright space.
I froze for a moment.
My mind was completely blank.
My heart pounded violently in my chest.
I didn't know what to do.
Should I attack first?
Or wait for him?
All my past fighting experience hadn't prepared me for this.
I looked at him.
He stood there, smiling calmly.
Then suddenly, he began walking toward me—slowly, but with a chilling composure.
My body reacted on its own—I stepped back instinctively.
"Listen, I don't want to hurt you… or see blood. So, surrender."
He said it so calmly… as if he were asking me to go have tea.
I froze.
What…?
Does he really expect me to surrender that easily?
What about my pride?
My dignity—the last things I'm still holding onto in this insane world?
If I surrender now… I'll lose the last trace of it.
I took a deep breath, forcing calm into my voice:
"I advise you to surrender. As long as I'm in this arena… I will never give up."
The crowd roared louder—maybe because it sounded like something out of an old movie.
For a moment, I felt embarrassed.
That was the kind of line only anime heroes say.
And me?
I'm just a weak man who hasn't fought anyone in a long time.
The ordinary man looked down, as if thinking.
Then a sly smile appeared on his lips. He raised his head and said dramatically, placing a hand on his head:
"What should I do? Looks like I have no choice but to fight."
Then he added coldly:
"I'll try not to hurt you too much."
My hands trembled.
But I steadied myself by reminding myself of one thing—
Karate.
It's fine.
I'm trained in professional karate.
I've practiced until my hands swelled.
All that effort… it has to mean something!
But his voice cut through my thoughts like lightning:
"Then… I'll begin."
"Wait, what—"
Before I could finish—
He suddenly dashed toward me at unbelievable speed.
My eyes couldn't track him.
His fist shot toward me faster than the eye could see—
But thanks to my training, I reacted just in time and dodged.
Not completely.
His fist brushed my face—and a sharp pain shot through me.
"Woooow! What incredible speed!"
The referee shouted in shock:
"Is this man really weak, Hontar?!"
The crowd roared:
"The ordinary man! The ordinary man!"
I couldn't think anymore.
I realized—
If he kept attacking like this… I'd never get the chance to strike back.
He threw another punch.
I raised my hands quickly and blocked it.
He stepped back… then rushed in again.
"At this rate… I'll lose," I thought.
I took a deep breath and threw a straight punch at his face.
But with terrifying speed, he blocked it—
And even faster—
He drove a punch into my stomach.
Thud!
Blood burst from my mouth.
The pain was unbearable—as if my insides had been ripped apart.
The referee shouted excitedly:
"Waaah! What was that?! The ordinary man landed a lightning-fast punch to the thirty-year-old's stomach! Looks like victory will go to the left team!"
The crowd roared like bloodthirsty beasts.
I couldn't stand anymore.
I collapsed to the ground.
Coughing.
Gasping.
My body felt unbearably heavy.
"How about surrendering now? I really don't want to hurt you any more than this."
His voice was calm… and somehow even more disturbing.
I fought through the pain, trying to stand—but my body failed me.
I fell again.
I tried once more.
Despite the pain that felt like it would kill me… I managed to stand.
Sweat poured down my face.
Blood filled my mouth.
My stomach burned with agony.
"You're really stubborn."
He said, his smile twisting into something darker:
"I hope you don't regret this. That was my last bit of mercy."
Suddenly, his eyes became terrifying—
Like flames had ignited within them.
"Damn… should I have surrendered?" I asked myself.
…No.
If I surrender now… I'll be the biggest coward alive.
How could I face Zairos, who endured until he broke?
How could I face Visper, who's younger than me—and still fought until he forced a draw?
Me… even if I'm not that strong…
I won't surrender.