It was Wednesday night when Haruto made his way toward the abandoned warehouse, its looming structure dimly lit by a few flickering street lamps.
As he approached, he spotted Arataki already waiting outside, waving at him with a wide grin, his impatience clear.
The distant murmur of voices grew louder, hinting at the crowd gathered inside. The place sounded far more lively than he had anticipated.
"Yo, Haruto! Ready for some fun?" Arataki called out playfully, his tone casual and carefree.
Haruto nodded but couldn't help the faint twinge of annoyance creeping in. He was always a little too playful, often skirting the line of impoliteness.
For one, he insisted on calling him by his first name, a level of familiarity that felt out of place since they weren't exactly close.
Yet, Haruto had noticed that Arataki addressed Senior Nakamura and Kikuchi by their surnames, a mark of respect he didn't seem to extend to him.
'So, does that mean he doesn't respect me at all?'
He thought, but he quickly brushed it aside as Arataki threw an arm around his neck, dragging him toward the entrance with a mischievous grin still plastered on his face.
Inside the warehouse, the atmosphere was buzzing with energy. The place was far more crowded than Haruto had expected, with people gathered around a wide circular stage in the center of the space.
The stage itself was encircled by a tall gate made of thin iron bars, giving it a cage-like appearance. Wires stretched between the stage and the crowd, keeping spectators at a distance.
Now he understood why they called it the "Dog Cage."
"Neat, right?" Arataki grinned, nudging him as they moved through the crowd.
"This place got its name not just from the cage. Back in the day, it was used for illegal dog fights."
"We just repurposed it for... other kinds of entertainment," he explained, leading him to a narrow set of black stairs at the back of the room.
The staircase was made from cheap tin, and each step they took clanged loudly beneath their feet, adding to the gritty, underground feel of the place.
At the top of the stairs was a small room with a clear view of the circular stage below, separated from the crowd by a low metal gate.
Arataki pushed open the door, and Haruto was immediately hit by the heavy scent of cigarettes and alcohol hanging thick in the air.
The room was dimly lit, and inside was a table surrounded by worn-out sofas. Kikuchi sat at the table, counting a thick stack of money with a focused expression.
On the table before him, there was easily more than 30 million JPY—piles of cash stacked high, next to a money-counting machine humming as it processed more bills.
Another table off to the side was cluttered with bottles of booze, packs of cigarettes, and a variety of snacks.
Seated around it were two men and a woman, their eyes glued to the ongoing fight in the cage below, their laughter and conversation mixing with the raucous cheers of the crowd.
"Senior Kikuchi, I've brought you the star of the show," Arataki announced theatrically, making a sweeping gesture toward Haruto.
Haruto bowed slightly, offering a polite nod to everyone in the room. All eyes turned to him—the two men and the woman included.
He recognized the woman immediately as Arataki's older sister, Erika. One of the men was Senior Nakamura, while the other was a hulking figure he didn't know.
His black hair was slicked back, his sharp, slanted eyes sizing him up like a predator. His broad, muscular frame strained against his gray shirt, and tattoos snaked from his arms up to his neck, giving him a menacing air.
"Ah, you probably don't know Mr. Yamada," Arataki said with a sly grin, one that was different from his usual playful smile—it was full of teasing and amusement.
The name sent a jolt through Haruto. His eyes twitched. 'No… it can't be…'
Yamada stood up, towering over Haruto, his sheer size making Haruto crane his neck just to meet his gaze.
'He does look like him,' Haruto thought, his suspicion deepening.
Without warning, Yamada extended his hand. Haruto hesitated for a moment before reluctantly shaking it.
The man's grip was firm, almost crushing. After the handshake, Yamada casually sat back down on the sofa, grabbed a bottle of beer, and took a swig, paying no further attention to Haruto.
Haruto remained standing, his mind still racing. 'He's… not quite the same as him. Also, why is he polite?' he lifted his brow.
Usually, the one who needed to bow down and introduce themselves was the one with a lower position. But Yamada was the one who stood up instead.
Kikuchi, who had been silently observing, finally spoke. "Mr. Yamada's here to watch the fight. It's one of his favorite pastimes when he's bored," he explained as though he were introducing a VIP.
Haruto nodded quietly, processing the situation. Before he could say anything, Arataki leaned in, whispering into his ear.
"He's Daiki's big bro. And listen—don't mess with him. He's the boss's boss."
Haruto wanted to say something to him but was interrupted when Erika suddenly stood up, pushing her brother aside.
She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug before planting a kiss on his cheek.
"My handsome little boy!" she purred, kissing him again, leaving his cheeks marked with kisses because of her red lipstick.
"I didn't know you were here."
She held onto him, her breath carrying the scent of cigarettes. Her voice dropped into a sultry tone.
"So, are you a spectator tonight? Or a fighter?"
"Well, I'm here to have a little fun." He winked at her.
"Oh my, feisty, aren't you?" Erika giggled, tightening her hold on his arm.
Kikuchi's voice cut through the moment. "Since you're ready, you can head down now. But don't get ahead of yourself—you're not fighting Enji yet. You've got to take on the Pup Champion before you get to the Bulldog."
He added with a smirk, "Your pay depends on how many fights you win, so don't get your hopes up too high."
Haruto's gaze shifted to the cage below. "Don't worry," he said confidently, his eyes fixed on the ongoing fight.
"I'm not here to be a loser."
In the ring, Enji was fighting his opponent. The poor guy was already battered and barely standing while he looked untouched.
With a single brutal punch to the jaw, his opponent went flying into the iron gate, which rattled violently on impact.
The referee blew his whistle, signaling the end of the fight as the crowd erupted in cheers.
Enji raised his fists in triumph, his gaze locking onto the black box where Haruto stood. He smirked, clearly issuing a challenge.
Haruto met his stare, returning the smirk.