Where there's light, there's always darkness...
Beneath the dazzling, multicolored glow of neon lights, a city indulged in its own decadence. Desire spread like wildfire beneath its glamorous surface.
Amano Ren stood silently at the alley's entrance, his cold gaze sweeping across the passing crowd. His tall frame blocked out the darkness behind him. If one listened closely, they might hear the muffled sounds of pain echoing from deep within the alley—thuds of fists colliding with flesh.
Half an hour ago, on the boss's signal, he had intercepted a group of slightly drunk men and dragged them further into the shadows.
The goal, of course, was to extract some cash from these well-dressed targets.
In this city of excess, every human desire could be fulfilled—and every fantasy, no matter how innocent, could be crushed beneath the weight of its darkness. People were drawn to its brightness, some finding fortune, others only tragedy...
"Ren, the boss wants to see you. I'll hold down the fort," a red-haired young man with a cocky expression walked up and patted Amano Ren's shoulder.
Ren tilted his head slightly to look at him, gave a small nod, and said nothing as he headed deeper into the alley.
The red-haired youth narrowed his eyes, watching Ren's back disappear into the dark. A flicker of disdain passed through his gaze.
"Some stray from that place wants to fight in the ring?"
He turned his head back toward the bustling street, muttering coldly, "Shame... there'll be one less meat shield for the front line."
As if he had already foreseen Ren's fate—not crippled, but dead.
Ren hadn't gone far when laughter and cries of pain echoed louder from within the alley. He frowned and quickened his pace.
Dim, low-wattage lamps hung along the alley walls, casting a sickly yellow light that barely illuminated the muddy ground. Still, the visibility was enough that he didn't trip.
As he turned a corner, the sounds of someone begging for mercy became unmistakable.
A burly man with a scar across his face sat smoking on a pile of junk. Not far from him, three men in suits were backed into a wall by a group of thugs, fists and boots landing with casual brutality.
Through the yellow haze, Ren could see a companion clutching three bulging wallets and several expensive watches and gold chains. Yet even after getting what he wanted, he hadn't stopped. The beatings continued—pointless violence just to feed a craving for power.
Ren had predicted this outcome the moment he walked in. He was used to it—his companions always overstepping after getting what they came for. He didn't approve, but he never objected either.
After all, what did those three men have to do with him?
He looked away and approached the man smoking on the junk pile.
"Boss. You called me?"
"You want to fight?" the man asked, puffing out smoke as he eyed Ren flatly.
"I do," Ren replied, locking eyes with him and nodding firmly.
The corner of the man's mouth twitched. He subconsciously touched the grotesque scar across his chest. "Even I couldn't win a single round in that ring."
"I have to go," Ren said resolutely.
The strength in his voice startled the boss for a moment. After a pause, he said, "I'll recommend you tomorrow. You fight the day after."
Then, his gaze turned ice cold. "If you back out after I put your name in, I'll make sure you suffer a fate worse than death."
A chill shot through Ren's chest. He nodded slowly, letting the message sink in.
The boss's eyes softened slightly.
"One of you dies in every match. I hope it's not you."
Ren clenched his fists. He exhaled heavily through his nose.
He knew the rules. This wasn't just underground boxing—it was deathmatches staged for entertainment. In that cage, lack of skill meant death. No luck, no mercy.
If he had a choice, he'd never step into that hell. But he needed the money—no, the medical expenses.
It was the only way to quickly raise the massive funds he needed.
"Wait for me… Rui."Ren spoke the name silently in his heart.
Two days later, deep beneath the city's grandest entertainment venue, the much-anticipated deathmatch began.
The arena was a cold steel cage, bathed in harsh white lights that revealed every grimy detail. It looked more like a giant birdcage than a fighting ring.
While the ring blazed with light, the audience sat shrouded in shadows. Only faint outlines of the spectators could be seen.
Suddenly, deafening music filled the space, electrifying the crowd. Wave after wave of cheering roared over the pounding bass. The deathmatch was about to begin.
The announcer gave an over-the-top introduction for the evening's favorites. Every line drew screams and cheers from the audience—most of whom were either wealthy elites or powerful criminals, sitting in the darkness, indulging the ugliest parts of human nature.
When he got to Amano Ren, the announcer let out a deliberately mocking laugh.
"Tsk tsk. Let's see if this 16-year-old little pudding can smack the Ghost Bear's adorable face!"
"Haha!"
The crowd erupted with laughter.
"Alright, enough talk! Please welcome our two contestants!"
Creak…
The iron gates at both ends of the cage slowly rose.
Ren stepped out first, his footsteps heavy as he entered the steel birdcage. Ahead of him, a massive man well over two meters tall stooped under the frame and stepped into the ring.
The size difference alone made it obvious—this was a slaughter, not a fight. For the spectators, it was just the opening act.
Ren's eyes burned with suppressed rage. Only now did he realize he'd been set up. As a newcomer, he was supposed to face someone of similar level—not a seasoned killer like Ghost Bear.
But even if he knew it was a trap, he had no choice.
Climb into the ring, and you might die.Turn around and run, and you'll definitely die.
This place was lawless—just like the slums he had clawed his way out of. The only difference? That world was dirty. This one was decadent.
Ghost Bear glared at him, ready to strike the moment the bell rang. To him, Ren was just a warm-up. A disposable appetizer.
Ren's face was solemn. The giant man's presence was suffocating. The only way to survive was to use his speed, strike at weak points, and hope for an opening.
Ding!
The bell rang before the announcer could even speak.
Ghost Bear lunged like a wild beast.
Ren flinched—but recovered instantly. The monster was already upon him. A massive hand tore through the air, aiming straight for his head.
The sound of the wind alone made the crowd erupt.
Ren's eyes sharpened. He ducked, narrowly dodging the crushing blow, then surged forward and struck—right at Ghost Bear's groin.
Thud!
The crowd fell silent.
Ghost Bear roared in pain, eyes blazing red. A normal man would've collapsed. But he wasn't normal—he was built for this. He could take the hit.
"You wanna die?!"
Ghost Bear howled, grabbing Ren and pulling him into a crushing embrace.
"Shit…"
Ren hadn't expected a counterattack so fast. Before he could react, a shockwave of pain hit his back.
"Pffft!"
Blood sprayed from Ren's mouth. His face smashed against Ghost Bear's abs.
"Ohhh! After that sneaky low blow, our adorable little pudding has fallen right into Ghost Bear's loving arms! Looks like he won't last even a minute!"
Ren couldn't hear the announcer. His ears rang. His vision blurred. He was pressed so tightly against Ghost Bear's rock-hard body that he couldn't even open his eyes.
Terror surged through him.
"I'm… going to die…"
The words echoed coldly in his mind.
If I die here… what about Rui?
His body trembled violently—defying the brute strength crushing him.
"Hm?"Ghost Bear sensed the struggle and sneered. He squeezed harder.
Ren went still.
Darkness swallowed him whole.
And then… a fading image.
A girl in a hospital bed, smiling brightly.
"Big bro, when I get better, I wanna eat a mountain of snacks!"
"Yeah."
Crash.
Cold rain stung his skin.
Ren forced his eyes open. A gray sky. A wall of rain.
"I'm still alive?"
His weak voice was drowned by the storm. Rain stabbed at his eyes, forcing him to close them again.
He was in pain—every part of him—but he was alive. He didn't know how or why, but it didn't matter.
He had survived.
Straining against the aches, he lifted his arm to block the rain. Then he opened his eyes again—and froze.
His arm was… thin. Scrawny. Bone-like.
"…This isn't my arm."
Ignoring the pain, Ren scrambled to his feet. He examined himself.
What he saw stunned him.
He was a child. Starved. Malnourished. Barely recognizable.
More than shock or disbelief, one name pounded through his mind—
Rui.
"Where… am I?"
He stood in the rain, dazed and trembling. His mind was a mess. But the cold, the pain, and the rain reminded him:
This is real.
The sky was pitch-dark. The rain endless. The air heavy with moisture. With a body this weak, he'd die in a day.
But Ren's heart was steel.
He took stock of his surroundings—a small, chaotic village. The buildings were scattered and disorganized.
No idea where he was. But shelter was shelter. He stumbled toward a building and collapsed under the eaves.
Leaning against the cold wall, he stared blankly outside.
The buildings all had long eaves and wide drainage troughs. Clearly, rain was common here.
His mouth was dry. His stomach roared. But worst of all was the cold.
He caught some rainwater in his tiny hands and drank.
"I can't go on like this… I need food."
Even as pain wracked his body, his eyes scanned the street. He had no intention of relying on others.
That wasn't how he survived the slums.
But in focusing on survival, he didn't notice the strange atmosphere.
Not until nightfall.
The village was silent.
No lights. Not a single one.
The moon was hidden behind thick clouds. The world was pitch-black. Only the sound of wind and rain remained.
Ren stared into the darkness.
Rubbing his arms, trying to stay warm, fear finally crept in.