Light could hear the crowd's voices as he rushed toward the downed fighter.
They had been completely taken by surprise when he began overwhelming the more experienced opponent. Most were unaware he had used a skill and simply assumed that a future monster had been detained by the GAA. A few were even angry that someone like him had been brought here for suppression in the first place.
Light ignored it all as he drew back his leg, aiming for the enemy's head.
A sudden roll made him miss, his foot letting out a faint hum as it tore through the air.
He staggered slightly, then noticed the enemy was already back on his feet.
The man's sharp gaze glinted as he rushed forward with another high kick.
Light didn't try to dodge. Instead, he stretched out his palm, thumb tucked in, like a spear, he thrust toward the approaching man's throat.
At the same time, he stepped forward with his right leg, targeting the opponent's standing leg. The motion was faint, almost negligible, but it was enough. He nudged the leg slightly off balance, aided by the already slippery floor.
They struck almost simultaneously and both fell.
Light's bandaged head burst open again, blood seeping through instantly, but the impact had been significantly reduced by disrupting the enemy's balance.
The opponent was in far worse condition.
He collapsed, clutching his throat as gurgling sounds escaped him. Blood streamed out in thick flows as the young man struggled helplessly on the ground.
A few seconds later, he stopped.
His body twitched weakly… then went completely limp.
Light, whose presence was already faint in the dim lighting, intentionally held his breath.
To everyone watching, his bare chest no longer rising or falling meant one thing… He was dead.
Then that familiar, cold, ethereal feminine voice echoed in his head.
{"You've slain an enemy. Umbrael's dominion grows stronger."}
{"New soul devoured: Theo. Shadow now possesses Theo's martial knowledge."}
{…}
{"Host can now summon Shadow for aid."}
Chaos erupted instantly in the arena.
Spectators burst into loud cheers. They had expected a clear outcome, but the fight had been far more satisfying than anticipated.
The gang leader's expression twisted into something ugly.
"He cheated! He used a skill in the lower zones!"
He roared angrily as he climbed onto the platform. Grabbing the cage door, he yanked it open violently, tearing it off completely as he stumbled inside.
Without hesitation, he raised his leg above Light's head.
'Shit… did he see through my death act?'
Light's back instantly broke into a sweat.
He was just about to roll away instinctively when a voice reverberated across the arena.
"Hold it right there, Akumo."
The voice was calm… but carried undeniable authority.
Light recognized it instantly as his eyelid twitched faintly.
Akumo's leg hovered above Light's head, frozen mid-air, but he didn't dare bring it down.
'He belongs to a powerful faction already…?'
A flicker of hesitation crossed Akumo's face before he masked it.
The oppressive pressure carried by that voice alone was enough to affect even him.
"Who goes there?"
The commanding voice didn't reply immediately.
Instead, a man stepped out from the shadows and into the light, his hands clasped behind his back.
Akumo squinted, his enhanced vision locking onto the figure in the distance. His tone dropped, losing its arrogance.
"…Hero King? What brings you to the underground tournament?"
"Just passing by."
'Wait… has Kingsley been monitoring me this whole time?'
The realization struck Light like lightning.
It reminded him, once again, how dangerous weakness truly was. Back in the slums, survival had been simple. Everyone was ordinary. Everyone could die from the same blade.
But here?... This was an entirely different world.
A world where superpower dictated how one lived… and how one died.
Kingsley continued, his posture unchanged.
"You said he cheated. Wasn't that a lie?"
"..."
"Skill usage is allowed everywhere, Akumo. Only weapons are prohibited in the lower zones."
The arena fell into a pin-drop silence.
All eighty prison-schoolers stood frozen, yet only two voices existed in that moment.
"If anyone broke a rule," Kingsley added calmly, "it would be you."
Akumo's jaw tightened and his fists shook.
"You just stepped into a low-level fighting ring."
He scratched his forehead briefly before continuing.
"Head to the Sanction Block for your penalty. I don't like being forceful… but I can call the enforcers if needed."
That did it!.
Akumo's expression shattered, arrogance instantly replaced by fear.
And he wasn't the only one.
Most of the inmates took shaky steps back. Some quietly slipped out of the arena, disappearing into neighboring sections.
Akumo spoke frantically when he realized Kingsley was serious.
"But he just killed one of my men!"
Kingsley tilted his head slightly.
"Isn't that the literal essence of combat?" He then pointed towards the dead fighter.
"He would have done the same if he were stronger."
Akumo slowly lowered his leg from above Light's head and began pleading.
Kingsley ignored him.
Instead, his gaze shifted toward a certain figure attempting to blend into the crowd.
"Bodoo!."
Bodoo froze mid-step.
"Take him to the health block before he actually dies. You'll be explaining yourself later."
Without waiting for a response, Kingsley turned and walked away.
Just like that… He left.
And the silence he left behind felt heavier than his presence.
Bodoo stood there, stiff as a statue.
Then, slowly, almost mechanically, he turned and walked back toward the center of the arena.
His eyes lifted and met Akumo's.
The hatred in Akumo's gaze was raw and unfiltered.
"Wash your neck and wait," he said coldly. "I'll make sure you suffer ten times what I'm about to."
He turned and walked off, his gang following closely behind, their postures rigid.
Within moments, the arena emptied.
Some fled the underground tournament entirely. Others simply moved on to the next matches, as if nothing had happened.
Bodoo climbed onto the platform and stared down at Light.
His expression twisted. His fists clenched, then he stepped forward.