The arena lights glared down as Raiji and Dirty Dam faced off, the crowd's roar a distant hum.
Dirty Dam 7 feet of whipcord muscle, zero fat, a human blade cracked his knuckles. His voice was a dry rasp:
"You're YOU Fast ? as they say?" A smirk. "Rank 50-and-under is main .
First Move:
Dam lunged, hand scraping sand then UP, a shockwave of grit and slicing air.
Raiji blocked, yawned, and sidestepped.
"Bring it, skinny. I'll show you speed."
Dam attacked again overhead strikes, speed punch, speed kick so fast multiple times the crowd only heard the wind scream.
"Fast. But no damage," Dam sneered.
Raiji smiled.
Counter:
A leaping slash Dam blocked left arm, grinning
CRACK.
Raiji's blade shattered.
Midas' voice boomed: "And there goes the 'Wind Blade'! Folks, we don't cover broken weapons buy better steel next time!" (Laughter.)
Raiji tossed the hilt away.
"One blow."
Dam raised his arms too late.
Raiji blurred past, a single diagonal slash splitting the air.
A beat.
Then blood sprayed. Dam collapsed, sand turning rust-red.
Midas groaned: "Raiji wins. Ugh. Someone check this rookie for cheats."
Raiji stepped out of the arena, wiping blood from his chest cut as Kiro fell in beside him.
Kiro (grinning): "Fast as your other fights. But you held back that's why you lost a blade."
Raiji (shrugging): "Showing off costs credits. That thing was rusted anyway." He flicked the broken hilt into a trash heap. "Need a replacement. And food. still got my 2nd blade" I know a place. But first payment.
The Credit Stall
A hunched glass-eyed hag manned the counter, her fingers tapping a holoscreen flickering with debt logs.
Kiro (slapping the counter): "Fights done. Our credits. Thanks."
The hag didn't look up. "Kids these days. Think I'm stupid enough to short-change arena dogs?"
The screen flashed:
PAYMENT
KIRO: 100 credits (low-rank fight, minus "arena fees")
RAIJI: 700 credits (high-rank KO bonus)
Kiro (eyebrow twitching): "...The hell's this math?"
Hag (smirking): "You lost three teeth mid-fight. Dental tax. you a no card"
Raiji pocketed his credits, dragging Kiro away before he flipped the table.
"Next time," Kiro muttered, "I'm fighting rank 50."
Raiji snorted. "Next time, don't get hit."
they left headed for the shop
Raiji halted before a corroded doorway, its unoiled hinges shrieking in protest.
Raiji: "This is the place. Heard through the grapevine."
Kiro smirked: "Real subtle."
Three precise knocks. Raiji's graveled voice: "Weapons."
The door groaned open to reveal a mechanic woman - sunset-orange hair cascading down her back, dark skin glistening with machine oil, a wrench slung like a sidearm at her hip.
Veyra's amber eyes narrowed: "Fresh meat. Who gave you my name?"
Kiro jabbed a thumb at Raiji: "Your fanclub president over here. I'm Kiro, he's Raiji. Dumbass shattered his sword, I need new gloves."
She ushered them into her workshop - the atmosphere thick with ozone and metal. The walls displayed her deadly craftsmanship: a humming plasma cutter, shock-gauntlets crackling with restrained energy.
Veyra booted open a munitions crate: "Blades here, gloves there. Prices start at 'your firstborn' and go up from there
glove 10k up to 50k
sword 20k up to 100k
then cheapest
gloves 400
sword 500
KIRO: "Damn, these prices are criminal. I'm out." He eyes the gloves longingly. "But fuck, those look good..."
RAIJI: "Yeah, they're steep. I'd buy that sword... if we weren't starving."
KIRO sighs, shoving his credits at Raiji: "Sacrifices, I guess. Take my cut too."
RAIJI: "Next time, we feast proper."
VEYRA snorts: "You two are *22* and broker than jokes. One scrawny brat, one 'scary' softie."
KIRO & RAIJI in unison, offended: "Who you calling ?!"
Veyra disappears into the back, returning with two items glowing under workshop lights:
A pair of gloves, the leather woven with lion's hide and teeth pulverized into conductive dust.
A sword, its edge shimmering with what looks like dragon-scale patterning in the steel.
VEYRA:
To Kiro: "Shock gloves. Can punch through concrete. Worth 1K."
To Raiji: "Sword's got 'dragon tooth' alloy. (Bullshit. But it'll cut tanks.) Also 1K."
BOTH: "We can't afford that!"
VEYRA grins: "Obviously. You're getting both for 100 credits." Pauses. "Kiro pays."
KIRO: "Why me?!"
VEYRA patting his head like a disobedient dog: "Attitude tax. Good pets get discounts."
RAIJI chuckling: "Thanks."
VEYRA still ruffling Kiro's hair: "Mmhm."
KIRO yelling as he slams down the credits: "THIS WOMAN'S EVIL" The whole block hears him.
AFTER THE SHOP
Kiro stomped down the neon-lit alley, still fuming. "That woman...argh...I swear, next time I'll"
Raiji suddenly stiffened, his hand drifting toward his new sword.
Kiro blinked. "What?"
Behind them, an 8-foot titan of muscle ducked into Veyra's shop....the doorframe splintering slightly as he passed.
Raiji exhaled. "...Nothing."
INSIDE THE SHOP
The giant ruffled Veyra's hair like she was still five. "Veyyy. Who were those twerps?"
Veyra swatted his hand. "Arena fighters. Might even beat you someday."
Her brother laughed, the sound rattling tools off shelves. "Cute. Tell 'em to try."
kiro and Raiji went to a place too eat.
meanwhile kiro thinks back
KIRO'S FLASHBACK
15 Years Ago – Stormfront Slums
Rain hammered the memory....a child Kiro, knees scraped, clutching his grandfather's sleeve.
"Granpa, why are they after us?!"
No answer. Just a bloodied hand shoving him forward, a rasped: "Run, boy."
KIRO'S FLASHBACK – "THE NIGHT HE RAN"
Rain slashed through the main road as young Kiro sprinted, bare feet slapping against cracked pavement. Behind him, his grandfather's voice boomed:
"Kiro! Don't look back!"
The boy skidded to a stop.
His grandfather stood facing four naval officers, their pristine coats splattered with blood and rain:
Red Vice Admiral: "Pathetic. You actually turned back?"
Green Vice Admiral: "He thinks he can take us."
Blue Vice Admiral (gripping a bleeding arm): "...Idiot."
Lieutenant Commander (coughing blood): "Enough games. Finish this."
Kiro's grandfather spat, fists crackling with energy. "All you weaklings. At once."
Then
A detonation.
The main road erupted in crimson light, the shockwave hurling Kiro forward. When he looked back, the street was gone replaced by a crater of smoldering steel.
He ran.
A desert highway, cracked and endless. The air shimmers with heat, the skeletons of old-world cars jutting from the sand like rusted teeth.
Young Kiro runs.
His bare feet split on scorched asphalt, but he doesn't stop. Behind him:
The skyline explodes in red. His grandfather's final stand lights the horizon like a dying sun.
Navy dreadnoughts hover, their shadows swallowing the ruins.
Bullets kick up sand, but Kiro doesn't look back.
He runs until:
His lungs taste like blood.
The sun rises twice.
He collapses at a dojo's gates, its wooden sign creaking in the wind
He didn't stop for days.
present day
The tiny eatery was a haven in the slums steel tables scrubbed raw, walls stained with decades of grease, and the sweet char of real meat cutting through the usual stench of meat and chicken.
Raiji slid into a booth, cracking his neck. "Order anything. On me."
Kiro (grinning at the menu): "Then I'll take the... instant noodles."
Raiji didn't blink. "No." He flagged the clerk. "Two chicken-rice platters. Extra fries. Gas drinks."
Kiro opened his mouth
"And," Raiji added, "real meat. Not that lab-grown scrap."
The clerk nodded. "Coming right up."
Kiro drummed his fingers. "I owe you one. Wait…" He did mental math. "Is it 400 credits now? Plus that 50 from"
Raiji (cutting him off, voice low): "Correct."
Then, under his breath, too quiet for Kiro to hear: "...Other way around."
For a second, his gaze flickered to the window where navy searchlights skimmed the rooftops.
16 Years Ago – Master's Dojo
Rain lashed the clay tiles as a starving, feverish boy collapsed at the gates.
Master (kneeling beside him): "Breathe, child." His hands, calloused from decades of swordwork, peeled back blood-caked rags.
Young Raiji (looming over them): "Who's his father?"
Master: "The storm, maybe. Or the war."
Days Later – Recovery
The boy Kiro sat cross-legged, shoveling rice into his mouth like it'd vanish.
Raiji (leaning in, scarred face grinning): "Name's Raiji. You?"
Kiro (mouth full): "Kiro. You look scary. Funny name."
A beat. Then both laughed.
Master: "No family? Then this is home now. Train hard. Eat. Grow."
Weeks Later – First Spar
Kiro swung a wooden sword—clumsy but relentless. Raiji dodged effortlessly, but his eyes narrowed.
"First time?"
Kiro grinned, sweat-drenched. "Yeah. Fun."
Master's Command:
"Find these four masters
Lee (fists like thunder),
Tai (mind like ice),
Rose (body like steel),
Kai (wisdom like fire).
Go. Learn. Survive."
PRESENT – FOOD ARRIVES
Kiro slammed his palms on the table, rain dripping from his hair:
"From today no more starving. No more broke days. I'll be the richest bastard alive."
Raiji smirked, swirling his gas-drink until the liquid hissed. "And I'll beat every swordsman worth a damn... AND created my own dojo's the strongest one
Outside, the navy's searchlights cut through the downpour.