Dark repeatedly knocked me down.
Yet, time and time again, I rose to my feet.
Blood trickled from my mouth and nose, staining my clothes a glaring red, painfully reminiscent of my father years ago, broken and battered.
Just like the bandages soaked through with blood that wound around him, equally jarring.
Dark struck me down once more.
This was the ninth time.
Dark too was now breathless.
At times, inflicting violence demands more physical exertion than enduring it.
Standing in front of me, Dark had shed his earlier arrogance.
"Kid, just say you're done, and I'll let you go..."
Dark's tone had almost shifted to negotiation.
But I remained silent still.
Slowly, I stood up once more.
Wiping the blood from my lips, I met Dark's eyes with a defiant glare, questioning him:
"I do not yield. Do you, Dark?"
My words rattled Dark.
It was me who had been knocked down.
Yet I challenged him to yield.
The crowd of onlookers grew.
Seeing me rise yet again, whispers rippled through them quietly.
"This lad is truly stubborn. Just say you're done, and it's over..."
"You have to admit, this lad's got guts; taking all those hits without yielding, quite the tough one!"
"But let's stop this. If it continues, there might be a casualty..."
Seeing Dark remain silent, I licked the blood from the corner of my mouth once more.
The taste was faintly metallic.
"Dark, since you won't yield, I won't either. Today's events revolve around the gambling table, so let's resolve them in a manner of gambling. I propose a wager between you and me. Dare you take the risk?"
"What shall we wager on?"
Dark inquired.
"Just wait."
With those words, I parted the crowd.
Heading towards a nearby hardware store.
The owner, who had been watching the commotion from the doorway, was startled to see me covered in blood approaching.
Once inside, I picked up two pointed knives, each about thirty centimetres in length, before walking back out.
The owner didn't dare demand payment.
Nevertheless, I placed a hundred-dollar bill on the small tea table by the door.
I wasn't a thief, much less a robber.
I was a master gambler!
A principled gambler with boundaries!
When taking something, one must pay.
Carrying the two knives, I slowly made my way towards Dark.
Under the street lamp, my solitary shadow stretched long.
The sharp edges of the knives flashed with a chilling gleam in the light.
The crowd of onlookers instinctively made way for me.
Approaching Dark, I presented the handles of the knives towards him.
"Take them!"
Dark hesitated, not quite understanding my intentions.
"I said, take them!"
I roared.
Dark's towering frame trembled slightly, but he obediently accepted the knives.
"You just asked for a wager, now I tell you, Dark: we are gambling with our lives!"
Ah?
Gambling with lives?
A gasp rippled through the onlookers.
Everyone involuntarily stepped back.
As if fearing that the splattering blood would reach them.
"How do we gamble?"
Dark furrowed his brow tightly, questioning me.
"You stab me once, then I'll stab you once. We repeat this process; the first to die loses!"
Dark's expression changed abruptly.
He stared at me without a word for a long moment.
Having navigated the world through ups and downs, stepped into the ring, witnessed bloodshed, and risked lives.
Never had he encountered such a wager.
"The terms were set by me; it's your turn to make the first move. Come on!"
My hands hung by my sides, expressionless as I faced Dark.
It seemed as if I were prepared to endure the blade.
Dark's demeanour grew incredibly complex.
Surprise, confusion, and fear all washed over his face simultaneously.
"Do it?"
Seeing Dark still hesitant to act, I sternly commanded.
However, like a statue, Dark stood motionless in place.
"Fine, since you refuse to initiate, then I shall!"
With that, I gripped the pointed knife tightly.
Step by step, I advanced towards Dark.
With each step, his face betrayed a growing fear.
When I reached Dark, I didn't hesitate in the slightest.
Raising the knife, I thrust it towards his abdomen.
"Ah!"
A gasp erupted from the crowd.
The faint-hearted spectators covered their eyes, turning away.
"Stop! I yield! You win!"
Along with Dark's roar.
The knife in his hand clattered to the ground.
And he swiftly moved back out of reach.
My knife found empty air.
And Dark had yielded.
I still stared at Dark, my expression cold.
"What did you say? I didn't hear you."
"I yield, I yield to you!"
Dark promptly repeated.
His voice still tinged with panic.
"You yield to me? And who am I?"
"Lupan!"
"Wrong. Remember, from now on, when you see me, you address me as 'sir,' Lord Lupan!"
"Sir, Lord Lupan!"
Dark had completely submitted, heart and soul.
For a long time after, reminiscing about this one-on-one battle.
Dark remarked that whether in the ring or the world at large.
He had fought and faced death with others, but he had never been afraid.
Yet that day, in our gamble of lives, he had been scared.
It was an internal and external fear.
It seemed that I was an unassailable towering figure in his eyes, someone to be revered but never conquered.
He said it was a kind of presence.
A presence so overwhelming that it rendered one breathless.
Varg had once said.
My destiny carries a bad omen, my heart hides the essence of killing.
Even when my cheating skills were rudimentary, my presence and composure rivalled many adept gamblers.
Varg believed it was innate in me.
He had no idea that if not for witnessing my father's brutal demise before my eyes, if not for being tormented time and time again like a dog, how could I have contained such soaring ferocity?
The onlookers never expected that my confrontation with Dark would end with his surrender.
Ignoring Dark, I turned towards Ranulph and Filla, asking coolly:
"Will it be an apology and 'sir' or coming with me? It's your choice!"
Ranulph's lips moved slightly as if wanting to say something.
But seeing me covered in crimson, he chose silence.
It was Filla who spoke up directly from the side:
"I won't apologize, I'll go with you!"
With that, without even looking at Ranulph, she swaggered over to me.
Extending her hand, she unexpectedly linked her arm with mine.
This intimate gesture made it seem as though her man wasn't Ranulph, but me.
Ranulph looked dumbfounded, and I felt resigned.
Originally, I had intended for Filla to apologize to me, considering it a form of punishment for her disrespect towards my parents.
As for taking her with me, it was merely a scare tactic.
But I had never anticipated that she would choose to accompany me.
And she seemed not the least bit unhappy.
I could only lead her away.
Passing by a small courtyard, an elderly man with silver hair sat at the entrance, holding a half-moon purple sand teapot. He chuckled and called out to me:
"You don't seem to be much of a scrapper, young lad. If it were me sparring with that big oaf just now, two punches, and I'd have him toothless on the floor. Do you believe me? Hahaha..."
In the lingering crowd, someone shouted:
"Old Wu, you're starting to boast again. With your frail body, someone could scatter you with just a finger!"
Old Wu laughed heartily, paying no mind.
I had seen this elderly man many times.
Every time I came to the supermarket for a game of cards, I passed by his home.
I often saw him sitting at the small table by the doorway, sipping tea and chatting.
I thought that when Filla was taken by me, she would exhibit fear and panic.
But to my surprise, she showed no signs of fear throughout our journey.
Instead, she occasionally cast curious glances in my direction.