As dawn's first light spilled over the horizon, Shadow and May gathered their sparse belongings. The quiet calm of the early morning contrasted sharply with the tension simmering between them. They exchanged quick nods of farewell with Sensei Lin, whose eyes held a mix of concern and hope. Without another word, they set off toward the underground tournament, a shadowy arena nestled to the southeast of the Dojo.
The soft crunch of gravel underfoot was the only sound accompanying their steps. May glanced at Shadow, her brow furrowed with curiosity. "How did you end up like this?" she asked, voice low, almost hesitant. "What happened to you?"
Shadow didn't answer. His gaze was fixed ahead, unblinking, a figure both present and somehow distant.
May hesitated before placing a tentative hand on Shadow's shoulder. The contact sent a strange, electric tremor up her arm, like touching something both solid and unreal. Her heart skipped. "It's weird... you don't seem fully... real, yet you're here. You feel real." She pulled back slightly, bewildered by the contradiction.
Shadow shifted his weight and shot a sideways glance at her, eyes narrowing. "Why do you talk so much?"
May blinked, a little startled. "What do you mean?"
The quiet stretched between them for a heartbeat, the soft whisper of the wind brushing past the trees the only sound. Then, a subtle ripple stirred the still air—a barely perceptible shiver that raised the hairs on Shadow's neck. His eyes snapped wide, and with a sharp shout that shattered the calm, his voice rang out: "Move out of my way!"
Suddenly, a blur of motion—a man wearing a sleek, featureless mask, wielding twin machetes—lunged at Shadow. The metallic hiss of blades slicing through the air sent a chill down May's spine.
Shadow barely flinched. With a swift shove, he pushed May aside, his reflexes sharp and unyielding. The masked man stepped back, eyes hidden but intent clear, and readied himself for another strike.
May's breath caught. "Who is that guy?"
"A mercenary. Hired to kill me," Shadow said quietly, voice edged with something harder now.
The masked figure snarled, voice muffled but full of menace. "I'll do worse than kill you."
With a sudden rush, the masked ninja closed the distance, blades flashing like silver lightning. Each machete swung with brutal precision, slicing the air mere inches from Shadow's form.
Shadow moved fluidly, his body bending and twisting to evade every attack. The sharp swish of metal against air echoed around them. But then—a quick spin from the masked ninja caught Shadow off-guard, a powerful kick connecting squarely with his face. Shadow's body spun and crashed into the gravel.
He rose immediately, knives drawn from hidden pockets, the cold steel glinting in the dawn light. "You really think those little pocket knives are enough to beat me? Don't make me laugh," the masked ninja taunted, voice dripping with contempt.
The mercenary launched forward again, machetes slicing relentlessly, aiming to tear through Shadow's defenses. But Shadow remained calm, his every block measured, every dodge timed to perfection. The tension was palpable, the scent of dust and sweat thick in the air.
"You can't block me forever," the masked man hissed, swinging both blades toward Shadow's head in a deadly arc.
Shadow dropped low, narrowly avoiding the fatal strike. The machetes bit into the dirt behind him, sending up a spray of pebbles. With a sudden burst, Shadow closed the distance and plunged his knives into the masked ninja's exposed stomach and chest. The mercenary collapsed, writhing in agony on the ground.
May watched in awe, breath shallow. "He's incredible... took him down in less than three minutes."
Shadow's eyes hardened as he stared at the fallen man. "Who sent you?"
The mercenary coughed, blood staining his lips. "I'm just a pawn... a dummy, so he and his bodyguards could study your fighting."
"Lynx sent you?" Shadow asked, voice low.
The mercenary's lips curled into a grim smile. "And what if he did? That monster's far stronger than you. He could end you in a heartbeat."
A flicker of cold rage passed over Shadow's face. Memories flashed—Lynx tearing through his bodyguards, Kenji's screams after being exploded. "May! Get away from here!" Shadow shouted, urgency in his voice as he dashed out of the way.
Behind them, the masked ninja exploded into fragments of smoke and ash, drifting into the cool morning air.
May's breath caught, a sharp jolt running through her chest. Her hands clenched briefly at her sides as the smell of smoke and dust filled the space. Her eyes widened, heart pounding faster than before.
"Oh my god..." she whispered, voice trembling slightly.
For a moment, she just stood there, stunned by the sudden violence.
Shadow's steady voice pulled her back. "Lynx tried to trick me. But he won't succeed."
May swallowed hard, eyes narrowing as she watched the smoke fade. "This Lynx guy really means business."
May's voice dropped low, a mix of worry and awe. This is way bigger than just fights. She bit her lip, eyes searching his calm face. Does this... have anything to do with the form he takes now? She didn't know, but the uncertainty tightened her chest.
"Let's go," Shadow said in a flat tone, already stepping forward.
"Hey, wait up!" May called, jogging to catch up, her breath quickening as she struggled to keep pace.
They pushed onward, the distant rumble of the underground tournament drawing near.
The entrance loomed before them: a heavy iron gate covered in layers of grime and graffiti. Neon lights flickered intermittently, casting long shadows over the worn stone steps. The air was thick with the smell of sweat, cheap alcohol, and anticipation.
"This is it," May said, voice barely above a whisper. "The illegal gambling and fighting arena."
A figure appeared behind the gate—a middle-aged man with sharp eyes and a crooked smile. "Well, well, May. It's been a while."
May smiled politely. "It has. He wants to enter the tournament."
The man glanced sideways at Shadow. "And your alias?"
"Shadow," came the quiet reply.
The administrator nodded and waved them through. "Makes sense. Wait over there until your match."
The crowd's roar was a tidal wave of noise as they stepped inside. The large caged arena was surrounded by betting booths, smoky lounges, and spectators of every kind—some hardened gamblers, others rough fighters, and a few with eyes glowing with excitement.
The Host's voice boomed over the speakers. "Welcome to tonight's one-on-one fight! On one side, the famed 'Flexible but Strong' Monkey!"
The crowd erupted, cheers and monkey-like hoots filling the air. Monkey himself bounded into the cage, his movements fluid, his grin wild.
"And his opponent—a newcomer known only as Shadow!"
Whistles and murmurs rippled through the crowd as eyes fixed on Shadow's calm form.
A few gamblers shouted their bets. "Monkey all the way!" "Hundred silver coins on Monkey!" "No chance for that shadow freak."
May stepped forward confidently, placing a hefty pile of silver on the table. "Five hundred gold coins on Shadow."
A wealthy man sneered. "You're throwing your money away, Missy. Who bets on a shadow?"
May's gaze sharpened. "Just wait. You'll be singing a different tune soon enough."
The bell rang, sharp and clear.
Monkey lunged forward, the sharp clang of his boots striking the metal cage floor echoing through the arena. His legs whipped out in a furious series of kicks—front kick aimed at Shadow's ribs, a spinning back kick that grazed his shoulder, then a low sweep targeting his ankles. Shadow barely caught himself, feeling the rough cage walls graze his back as he twisted away, using the confined space to his advantage.
A brutal kick caught Shadow's head, sending him flying backward, disarming him in the process.
May's heart hammered. "He's fast... and strong."
Monkey danced around, taunting with playful monkey noises, the crowd's cheers swelling.
Shadow pushed himself up, steadying his breath. "You're quick," he admitted quietly. "But I don't need weapons to take you."
He balled his fists, muscles tightening.
Monkey grinned, eyes gleaming with challenge. Then he attacked again, a flurry of punishing leg strikes aimed at Shadow's torso and head.
Shadow blocked and dodged, timing each move carefully, then found an opening—a punch to Monkey's stomach that made him stagger.
Angered, Monkey unleashed a brutal assault, but Shadow's reflexes held. Then, when Monkey swung a desperate kick toward his head, Shadow ducked and countered with a powerful uppercut.
Monkey collapsed, unconscious.
The crowd fell silent, then erupted in shocked whispers.
"Dammit! I just lost three hundred gold coins!"
He slammed his fist on the table, frustration flashing in his eyes.
One gambler muttered, "No way... Shadow took him down in thirty seconds."
A female fighter licked her long, pointed knife, eyes narrowed. "Interesting."
May gathered her winnings, stacking coins with a triumphant smile. "Prize money well earned."
The Host's voice echoed, "Winner—Shadow!"
May caught up with him, excitement barely contained. "You were amazing. That was five thousand silver coins."
Shadow turned away, voice cool. "Enough talk. Time to gear up."
The dawn light faded fully, replaced by the electric buzz of the underground arena. Shadow's quiet determination set the tone for the battles ahead, a shadow moving silently but deadly through the chaos.