[ Cafeteria ]
Demian's smile was not one of excitement, but of calculation.
Alan swallowed hard when he saw the expression on his face.
"Cause… chaos?" Alan repeated, looking around. "But how?"
Demian followed Alan's gaze, observing the crowded cafeteria. Gladiators laughed loudly, argued, some already agitated by exhaustion and constant rivalry. All it took was a spark.
"Exactly because of that," Demian replied in a low voice. "Here, no one needs a real reason to fight. Just the right push."
He stood up slowly, blending into the crowd like any other gladiator. Alan hesitated for a moment, but ended up following him, keeping some distance.
Demian passed by two different tables, observing carefully. At one of them, two gladiators were arguing over who had the right to the last portion of meat. At another, a group mocked a newly arrived fighter, calling him weak.
Demian stopped behind one of the larger gladiators, who was drinking absentmindedly. With an almost imperceptible movement, using just enough mana to go unnoticed, he made the man's arm shift slightly—just enough to knock the full mug over onto another gladiator sitting beside him.
The liquid spilled down the chest of the man who was hit.
"Hey! Are you crazy?!" the second one shouted, jumping to his feet.
"I didn't do anything!" the first replied, already irritated.
Before any explanation could happen, a shove was exchanged.
Demian was no longer there.
On the other side of the cafeteria, he passed by Alan and murmured:
"First spark."
Alan's eyes widened, but he said nothing.
A few seconds later, a punch was thrown. The table flipped. Plates shattered on the floor.
"IT STARTED!" someone shouted, laughing.
Demian repeated the process, this time using words instead of mana. He passed by a group known for rivaling another and casually said:
"I heard you were being called cowards at that table over there."
"Who said that?"
"I don't know," Demian replied, already walking away. "I just heard it."
It didn't take long.
A chair flew through the air.
The noise spread through the cafeteria like gunpowder. Gladiators stood up, some trying to break things up, others taking the opportunity to strike old enemies. Old grudges resurfaced, forgotten insults were brought back to life.
Alan watched everything with his heart pounding.
"Demian…" he whispered, finding him near a column. "This is out of control."
"No," Demian replied calmly, watching the chaos grow. "This is in control."
Some people began shouting orders, but it was already too late. With so many people involved, no one knew who had started it. Any attempt to contain the situation only made it worse.
Fists, weak magic, tables, and trays flew everywhere.
"Now," Demian said, placing a hand on Alan's shoulder. "While everyone is looking at themselves."
Alan swallowed hard, but nodded.
They slipped away along the side of the cafeteria, blending into the chaos—unnoticed, invisible amid the confusion that no one would ever associate with them.
Behind them, the arena's cafeteria had turned into a true battlefield.
The first step of the escape had begun.
...
[ Arena Corridor ]
"Alright, the first step has already been taken. It's pretty exciting, don't you think, Alan?" Demian asked.
At that moment, Demian and Alan were running down the corridor, heading toward a certain point in the arena.
"Yes. Even though I'm nervous because of all this, I can't say I don't feel a little excited now," Alan replied.
"But, Demian, I didn't expect it to be so easy to get the other gladiators to fight each other."
"Really?" Demian said. "I realized from the very beginning that it would be quite easy to do."
Alan looked at Demian as if he didn't understand, clearly waiting for an explanation.
Demian glanced at Alan and made that expression again, as if wondering, Do I really need to explain something this obvious?
"Don't make that face at me again, Demian. I'm not falling for that joke again. Besides, I don't think now is the time for jokes."
Demian returned to a normal expression, looked ahead, and said:
"You're no fun, Alan. You should know there's no such thing as a right time to make a joke," Demian said. "And as for your question, it's simple. Do you remember what you said earlier about Mira stopping people from fighting outside the arena?"
"Yes, I remember. What about it?"
"That's exactly it. That rule might be good, but only for weak people who don't want to fight. Those who enjoy fighting were probably never happy with that rule. All it took was a spark for them to start beating each other up. They didn't need a good reason—just an excuse," Demian explained.
"I see."
They ran in silence for a moment until they turned into another corridor and Alan spoke again.
"So what exactly did you cause all that chaos for, Demian?" Alan asked.
Without looking at him, Demian answered:
"Distraction."
"I see. You wanted to distract Mira to make our escape easier," Alan said.
"No, it wasn't to distract Mira," Demian replied, leaving Alan with a confused look.
"I think the chances of Mira falling for that distraction are extremely low. At most, she'll send Goliath to check what's going on. At least, that's what I think," Demian said.
"Then who is this distraction for?" Alan asked.
"For the gladiators themselves."
Alan made a confused expression, as if he couldn't quite follow Demian's reasoning.
Seeing that, Demian let out a small laugh.
"I think staying around you, Alan, makes me seem very smart. You're really bad at noticing obvious things."
Hearing that, Alan's face turned red and he said, "It's not my fault I was never able to go to school, okay? I lived in the slums—I never had that privilege."
"You know, that's not exactly a good excuse, since my situation was the same," Demian replied.
Alan's face turned even redder, and he said in a discouraged voice, "Let's just get back to the topic, please."
Demian was silent for a second before speaking.
"Alright. As I said, we're distracting the gladiators because they like Mira. And since we're trying to escape, fighting her will probably be inevitable. So there's a good chance that gladiators who are loyal to her would try to stop us. Even if they're weak, there are still many of them. Do you understand now, Alan?"
"Yes, I understand."
"Good. Now let's hurry. We're almost at the stairs that lead to Mira's room," Demian said.
After a few more seconds of running, Demian and Alan finally saw the stairs in front of them—but they stopped abruptly.
"I already imagined you would try to escape sooner or later, Demian, but I didn't think it would be this soon," Mira said, standing in front of the stairs with one hand on her hip.
"Well, you know how it is," Demian said. "Sometimes in life, people just want to be a little freer."
"And don't you think you already have enough freedom here?" Mira asked.
Demian put a hand to his chin and said, "It's actually not that bad here, but I have other goals outside. So today, I intend to leave this place. I'd be very happy if you could show me the way out, Mira."
The two of them are talking so casually it almost feels like they're good friends, Alan thought.
Mira let out a small laugh.
"That's exactly why I always found you so interesting, Demian. But it's a shame—you can't leave this place unless you go through me," she said, as she began to release her mana.
Noticing this, Demian adopted a more serious stance and turned to Alan.
"Alan, go on ahead. Just go up the stairs and you'll see Mira's room. I believe the exit I told you about is there," Demian said.
"But you're going to stay here alone?" Alan asked, a little worried.
Demian gave Alan a light slap on the back and said, "Relax. I'll catch up with you soon."
"Alright."
Alan then started running toward the stairs, but Mira was standing in front of them. He began to move around her, expecting her to stop him—but to his surprise, she did nothing, and he passed straight by her.
She just let me go, Alan thought.
"Wow, you didn't even try to stop him," Demian said, a little surprised.
"There's no point," Mira replied. "You would have stopped me anyway, wouldn't you?"
"I can't say you're wrong," Demian answered.
"And besides," Mira continued, "after I defeat you, catching Alan will be easy."
"Well, will you really be able to do that, Mira?" Demian said.
"Of course," Mira replied.
In the next instant, she appeared right in front of Demian without him even noticing and threw a punch at his face. He barely managed to block it, but the impact sent him flying backward.
"Don't think I'm weak, Demian. I'm not the director of this place for nothing, after all."
"I noticed," Demian said, wiping the small amount of blood from his mouth.