Renji returned to his shabby dormitory room with 27 copper coins clinking lightly in his pocket. It wasn't a fortune, but after waking up with nothing, it felt like the first real victory of his second life.
He sat on the edge of the creaky bed and stared at the small pile of coins in his palm.
[27 copper,] the System remarked dryly. [How thrilling. At this rate, you'll be able to afford a room with one less cockroach in approximately 47 years. Truly the rise of a future Devil Lord.]
Renji snorted.
"Keep talking and I'll find a way to mute you."
[You can try. I'd enjoy watching you fail.]
He stood up, his expression hardening.
"I can't keep playing small forever. Gambling gives quick money, but it also draws attention. If I want real influence, I need more than coins."
[Wise words from someone who almost died because he couldn't stop stroking,] the System replied, its tone dripping with amusement. [What's your brilliant plan then, future Devil Lord?]
Renji clenched his fist, feeling the faint warmth of his Minor Flame Manipulation skill.
"I need to test this skill in a real fight."
He changed into a slightly cleaner uniform and headed toward the lower levels of the academy, where rumors spoke of informal dueling pits and betting rings.
The basement area was dimly lit and smelled of sweat, blood, and burning incense. A crude fighting ring had been drawn on the stone floor with chalk. A noisy crowd of students had gathered around it.
Two students were already fighting. The stronger one — a bulky third-year with faint red scales on his arms — was dominating. He slammed his opponent into the ground with a heavy punch, ending the fight.
The crowd cheered.
Renji watched from the edge. A crude betting board stood nearby. The odds were heavily against the weaker fighters.
He stepped forward and placed 15 copper on the next underdog.
The bookmaker raised an eyebrow. "Bold choice, nameless."
The fight ended quickly. The stronger student won again.
Renji lost his 15 copper.
But instead of walking away, he stepped into the ring when the next challenger was called.
"I'll take the next fight," he said calmly.
The crowd burst into loud laughter.
"You? With that weak aura? This will be quick entertainment."
His opponent was a bulky third-year with faint red scales covering his forearms and shoulders. He was clearly from a minor noble house and carried the arrogant aura of someone used to winning.
The referee gave the signal.
The scaled student charged immediately, throwing a heavy, powerful punch aimed straight at Renji's head.
Renji barely managed to dodge, feeling the wind from the blow brush past his ear. The second punch came fast — a brutal hook to the ribs. Pain exploded through his side like fire. He staggered back, gasping for air, his vision blurring for a moment.
[Strength 8 is showing,] the System commented dryly. [Try not to die in your first real fight, Host.]
The scaled student grinned viciously and lunged again, swinging a heavy fist toward Renji's face.
This time, Renji didn't dodge.
As the fist came toward him, he activated Minor Flame Manipulation and flicked a small, concentrated spark directly into the student's eyes.
The scaled student roared in sudden pain and surprise, his attack faltering as he instinctively clutched his face, blinking rapidly.
Renji didn't waste the opening.
He stepped in and delivered a hard kick to the side of the knee. The joint buckled with a sickening crack. Then he slammed his flaming palm into the student's chest.
The heat wasn't enough to burn through skin, but the sudden sharp pain and shock made the scaled student stumble backward with a grunt, smoke rising from his shirt.
The crowd murmured in surprise.
For a brief moment, Renji felt a surge of adrenaline and hope.
But it didn't last.
The scaled student recovered quickly, shaking off the pain with a furious growl. His eyes were red and watering, but his rage made him even more dangerous.
He grabbed Renji by the collar with one massive hand and slammed a heavy fist into his stomach.
Renji doubled over, coughing blood. The taste of iron filled his mouth. Another punch landed on his shoulder, sending him crashing to the ground.
The third-year raised his fist for the finishing blow.
Renji barely managed to twist away at the last second. The punch grazed his shoulder instead of crushing his face.
He rolled to the side, breathing hard, blood trickling from his lip and nose, his ribs screaming in pain.
The crowd cheered and booed.
The referee called the end of the fight.
The bookmaker tossed him 8 copper as a "participation reward."
[Not bad,] the System said, sounding almost impressed. [You lost, but you didn't get completely humiliated. That's progress for a Strength 8 candle-lighter.]
As Renji wiped the blood from his mouth and stood up shakily, pain shooting through his ribs, he felt that familiar warm aura again.
Vespera was watching from the shadows at the edge of the crowd, her crimson eyes gleaming with clear interest.
She didn't approach.
She just smiled — a slow, dangerous, approving smile — before disappearing into the darkness.
Renji stared after her, heart still pounding from the fight and the lingering pain in his ribs.
She really is watching.
He whispered under his breath, voice low and determined.
"Because the show is just getting started."