Chapter 25: blood and betrayal
The air in the Realm of Darkness was thick with dread, the eerie light of the summoned battlefield casting long shadows across the haunted city. Entity 404's voice boomed, slicing through the tension. "And now, the final battle of round one!" The scores between Team Kotodin and Team Kaguri stood at a precarious 2–2. One death would tip the scales, condemning an entire team to oblivion. The stakes were suffocating, and every fighter felt the weight of survival pressing down on them.
The fifth match pitted Lagumi of Team Kotodin against Kurumi of Team Kaguri. Both clutched their knives, eyes locked in a silent duel before the first move was made. Kurumi, a towering figure with sculpted muscles, exuded raw power, his six-pack abs a testament to his physical prowess. But Lagumi, lean and unassuming, carried the sharp edge of strategy, honed by years of martial arts training and an uncanny ability to read his opponents.
The battle began in the cavernous heart of the 500-foot haunted house, its walls echoing with the ghosts of past violence. Kurumi struck first, his knife flashing toward Lagumi's head. Lagumi dodged with fluid grace, his speed surpassing Kurumi's brute strength. As the clash unfolded, Kurumi's mind spiraled into doubt. Is this the end? Am I worthy? My team depends on me. These muscles… they're just steroids. His confidence wavered, the realization of his artificial strength gnawing at him.
The atmosphere thickened, a sudden gust of wind howling through the house, rattling windows and stirring dust. Lagumi, undeterred, moved with purpose, his thoughts clear and positive. I can win. I will win. His backstory painted a man of intellect and resilience: born in Israel in 2000, Lagumi had served as an Israeli Defense Forces soldier before a battle injury forced him to pivot. As a war strategist, he orchestrated victories with surgical precision, never losing a conflict under his guidance. Kurumi, born in 1998, was a professional bodybuilder whose natural strength had been amplified by steroids—until a heart attack two years prior exposed the fragility beneath his facade.
Lagumi's strategy was unpredictable, a dance of feints and retreats. He stepped back, luring Kurumi into a false sense of dominance, only to strike with sudden ferocity. Kurumi, caught off guard, fell into the trap, his attacks growing sloppy. Lagumi's movements were a calculated chaos, making him impossible to predict. Then, in a bold move, he darted to the side, vanishing into the shadows of the house.
Kurumi, thinking Lagumi had fled, laughed—a chilling, manic sound that sent shivers through the onlookers. "I've won!" he bellowed, his smile grotesque in the flickering light. But Lagumi had planned this moment. Silently, he circled behind Kurumi, his knife gleaming with intent. In one swift motion, he drove the blade into the back of Kurumi's head.
"Yo, bodybuilder," Lagumi said, his voice cold and steady. "Fights aren't won with strength. They're won with speed, intelligence, and strategy."
Kurumi's eyes widened, pain and shock overtaking him. "Tch… these weren't… real muscles. They were… ster—" His words cut off as he collapsed, lifeless.
Team Kotodin claimed victory, 3–2. Entity 404 raised a hand, his voice a low rumble. "Team Kotodin advances. Team Kaguri… eliminated." With a chant in the Reamism language, the bodies of Kurumi and his teammates glowed briefly before dissolving into nothingness, leaving only the metallic tang of blood in the air. The surviving teams stood frozen, the reality of their situation sinking in: defeat meant erasure.
Entity 404's smile was predatory. "Now, the second round. Team Lekki versus Team Techi."
The Second Round: Team Lekki vs. Team Techi
The haunted house's doors creaked open, welcoming the next combatants. From Team Lekki stepped Hiroshi, a wiry 17-year-old from Osaka with sharp eyes and a street fighter's cunning. His life had been one of survival—scrapping in alleys, outsmarting bullies, living off scraps. His knife was an extension of his guile, his true weapon deception. Team Techi sent forth Rikuya, a former rugby player whose broad frame and surprising speed made him formidable. His strength was earned through grueling training, but his belief in honor was a potential weakness in this brutal arena.
The ballroom's flickering chandeliers cast eerie shadows as Hiroshi crouched, knife outstretched, a smirk playing on his lips. "Rugby boy, you're too slow. This'll be quick."
Rikuya remained silent, his heavy steps shaking the floorboards. With a sudden roar, he charged, his knife slicing in a wide arc. Hiroshi ducked, sliding across the floor, his blade grazing Rikuya's thigh. Blood splattered, but Rikuya didn't falter. He seized Hiroshi by the collar, hurling him against the wall with a crash that cracked the plaster. Hiroshi coughed, blood flecking his lips, but his grin widened.
"Strength makes people dumb," he taunted, feigning a limp as he rose. Rikuya, believing him weakened, advanced with confidence. But Hiroshi's limp vanished in an instant, and he lunged, aiming for Rikuya's throat. The rugby player jerked back, narrowly avoiding the strike, but Hiroshi's knife found his chest, carving a deep gash. The crowd gasped, the sound swallowed by the house's oppressive silence.
Rikuya roared, seizing Hiroshi's wrist with bone-crushing force. He raised his knife for a killing blow, but Hiroshi was a street rat, not a knight. He dropped his knife deliberately, then drove his forehead into Rikuya's face with a sickening crack. Rikuya staggered, dazed, and Hiroshi reclaimed his blade in a fluid roll. "Honor gets you killed," he whispered, plunging the knife into Rikuya's spine—once, twice, three times. Rikuya's massive frame hit the floor, lifeless.
"Team Lekki… 1," Entity 404 declared. "Team Techi… 0."
The Second Match: A Violation
The second match pitted Aniki of Team Techi against Jamie of Team Lekki. Aniki, a dark web hacker with a history of cheating, faced Jamie, a college student whose normalcy belied his resilience. Aniki, true to form, hatched a plan to bend the rules. He enlisted Karl, a teammate, to join him in the fight, believing two against one would secure victory.
The match began, and Aniki struggled. Jamie's knife found its mark three times, leaving scratches across Aniki's arms and chest, while Aniki landed no hits. Frustrated, he signaled Karl, who stepped into the ring, violating the one-on-one rule. The crowd murmured, sensing the breach. Jamie, quick-witted, spotted a button labeled "Violation" in the corner of the arena. Outpacing both Aniki and Karl, he slammed his hand on it. The ring glowed red, and a translucent wall of energy separated Jamie from his opponents.
Entity 404's voice was ice. "A violation has been committed." The rules were clear: a false accusation of violation would kill the accuser, but a true one doomed the guilty. Aniki and Karl, trapped on one side of the wall, realized their mistake too late. With a gesture, Entity 404 ended their lives, their bodies collapsing in a flash of light. The remaining members of Team Techi were eradicated, securing Team Lekki a flawless 3–0 victory.
Entity 404's voice carried a rare note of approval. "Team Lekki, the first in 50 years to win without a loss. A feat not seen since 51 years ago."
The surviving members of Team Lekki erupted in cheers, but for Team Akashi—Kaguro, Kamiko, Kashimo, Bachi, and Alan—the victory was a grim reminder of their impending trial. Their blood pressure spiked as Entity 404 announced, "The third round: Team Akashi versus Team Keien."
The haunted house loomed, its 500-foot spire a monument to their fears. The city around it, with its gleaming roads and empty buildings, felt like a stage for their doom. Kaguro's mind raced, recalling the Reamism chant and their past encounters with this realm. Kamiko's usual bravado was muted, his eyes fixed on the arena. Alan's surgically altered face betrayed no emotion, but his clenched fists spoke volumes. Kashimo's jaw tightened, memories of their battles with Johnson and the time loop resurfacing. Bachi, still grappling with the guilt of Johnson's death, felt the weight of their team's survival on his shoulders.
They were Team Akashi, forged in trauma and bound by loyalty. The third round awaited, a crucible that would test their strength, cunning, and unity. As they stepped toward the haunted house, the light of the battlefield seemed to mock them, a false promise in a realm built on death.
To be continued…