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Toshi's heart pounded in his chest, his breath quick and shallow as he struggled to focus. The blonde man's grin never faltered, his sword gleaming under the bright lights of the arena.
' Calm down... breathe... ' he thought, adjusting his grip on the daggers. His knuckles turned white as he squeezed them tighter, willing the trembling to stop. This wasn't the time to let fear take over.
The blonde man took a single step forward, dragging the tip of his sword along the ground, leaving a sharp trail behind him. "You look like you've never held a blade in your life," he sneered, his voice dripping with mockery. "Let me guess—you were the runt of the litter, always trying to act tougher than you are?"
Toshi's jaw tightened, his lips pressing into a thin line. The words stung, but he forced himself to stay quiet. Words wouldn't win this fight.
The man took another step forward, twirling his sword lazily. "What's the matter? Cat got your tongue? Or are you just praying someone'll step in and save you?" He paused, his grin widening. "Hate to break it to you, kid, but no one's coming.... You're mine."
Toshi gritted his teeth, forcing himself to focus on the man's movements rather than his taunts. His opponent's stance was loose, cocky, almost begging for an opening. But Toshi wasn't naive; that arrogance was a trap. One wrong move, and it'd be over.
"Come on!" the man shouted suddenly, his voice booming across the arena. He raised his sword high and charged, his long strides covering the distance between them in an instant.
Toshi's instincts screamed at him to move, and he barely managed to dodge the downward slash. The sword struck the ground where he'd just been standing, the impact sending up a cloud of dust and scattering small rocks. Toshi stumbled back, his legs shaky but still carrying him.
The blonde man straightened, brushing some of the dust from his shoulder. "Not bad," he said, his tone casual. "You've got good instincts. Shame they won't save you."
He lunged again, this time faster. Toshi barely parried the strike with his daggers, the force of the collision rattling his arms. He staggered, his footing unsteady as the blonde man pressed the attack. Each swing of the sword came closer and closer to breaking through his defenses.
' I can't keep this up... ' Toshi thought, his chest heaving as he struggled to match the man's pace. Sweat dripped down his face, stinging his eyes. The daggers in his hands felt heavier with each passing second, and his muscles screamed at him.
The blonde man smirked, as if sensing Toshi's exhaustion. "This is boring," he said, feinting a high slash before pivoting into a low sweep aimed at Toshi's legs.
Toshi jumped back, the blade missing him by inches. But his retreat left him off-balance, and the blonde man capitalized, swinging his sword in a wide arc. Toshi raised both daggers to block, the force of the strike sending him sprawling to the ground.
He hit the dirt hard, the impact knocking the wind out of him. His daggers clattered to the floor just out of reach.
The blonde man loomed over him, his sword aimed at Toshi's throat. "Told you this would be quick," he said, his grin now a twisted mask of triumph.
Toshi's mind raced, searching for anything—any way out. His eyes darted to the ground around him, desperation mounting as the sword inched closer.
Toshi scooped a handful of dirt from the ground with his left hand, clenching it tightly before flinging it straight into the man's face.
"Gwah!" The man staggered back, his free hand shooting up to shield his eyes as he rubbed furiously at them. He stumbled, momentarily blinded while cursing under his breath. " You little shit.. "
Grabbing the chance, Toshi lunged for the fallen dagger. His fingers wrapped around the hilt, and without hesitation, he sprang to his feet, his breaths ragged and uneven.
He charged at the man, his legs moving before his mind could catch up. Anger and desperation fueled his movements. He wasn't thinking, just acting, letting every ounce of frustration and pain surge through him.
Toshi gritted his teeth as he quickly closed the distance. ' No more. ' The thought echoed in his mind, loud and clear.
He was done being trampled, done being tossed aside. For once, he would fight back, even if it cost him everything.
Toshi's hands trembled as they tightened around the worn hilt of the dagger. The leather grip bit into his palms, slick with sweat, but he held firm. With a sharp inhale, he lunged forward, every muscle in his body coiled with desperate force. The blade drove through the man's flesh, slicing past the resistance of skin and muscle with a wet, sickening sound.
The impact jarred Toshi to his core, the force reverberating up his arms as the weapon sank deeper. His knuckles whitened around the hilt as he pushed harder, a surge of adrenaline overtaking the hesitation that lingered in the back of his mind.
"AHHHHH!!!" The man screamed as Toshi drove the dagger into his gut, blood staining the blade. But before Toshi could pull back a heavy stomp drove into his gut, sending shockwaves of pain rippling through him. His vision blurred, and his breath hitched as the force launched him backward. He slammed into the side of the cage with a loud *clang*, the impact knocking the air from his lungs.
"Augh... you fucking piece of shit!" the man growled, clutching his stomach as the pain radiated through his entire body, searing and relentless. He grimaced, sweat beading on his brow, but he didn't dare pull the dagger free. He knew all too well that doing so would make matters worse.
Toshi's lips curled into a defiant grin as he watched the man struggle. ' If I die, he's coming with me, ' he thought. His gaze shifted to the floor, where another dagger lay within reach.
He bent down and picked it up, the blade gleaming faintly under the light. Twirling it deftly around his fingers, Toshi steadied his breathing. His muscles tensed, his focus sharpening like the weapon in his hand. He locked eyes with his opponent, ready for whatever came next.
Toshi had no hope of overpowering the man in sheer strength or skill. But what he lacked in raw power, he made up for with unmatched speed and agility. All those year of stealing were finally paying off. The man, undeterred by the dagger lodged in his stomach, charged forward recklessly, his movements fueled by pure anger.
With a scream, the man raised his sword high and swung it down in a diagonal arc. Toshi ducked just in time, the blade grazing the top of his head and slicing off a lock of hair. Using the opportunity, Toshi darted forward, slashing at the side of the man's knee before dashing behind him.
"FUCK!" the man bellowed, spinning around with a wild, desperate swing. The sword's tip caught Toshi's back, leaving a shallow cut that stung but caused no significant harm. Gritting his teeth against the pain, Toshi kept moving, his mind flashing back to the searing agony of being senselessly whipped by Waltz. Compared to that, this was nothing.
Toshi's palm slammed against the ground as he stumbled, his balance teetering for a moment before he caught himself. He spun around instinctively, just in time to see the man towering over him, his shadow swallowing Toshi whole. The sword gleamed as it arced downward, a force of raw destruction aimed straight for him.
Panic and instinct kicked in. Toshi pushed off with his leg, throwing himself to the side as the blade crashed into the dirt, sending a spray of dust into the air. He barely had time to breathe, his body already moving.
"Steal the Watch technique," he muttered under his breath, the words more for himself than anything else.
He surged forward like a snake, his dagger carving a jagged line into the man's side. Blood poured from the gaping wound as the man stumbled back, clutching at the wound.
" Fuck... " The man slurred, as the blood gushed from the wound.
Toshi wasn't fighting with a shred of skill. His strikes were crude, his stance nonexistent. It wasn't combat...it was survival. Every slash was sloppy, every step uncertain, but it worked. He moved like a thief in the night, slipping through gaps and weaving out of reach. There was no elegance, no finesse, just the desperate cunning of someone who had spent their life taking what wasn't his and escaping before anyone could stop him.
Toshi knew he couldn't overpower him. He didn't need to. All he had to do was keep carving away, piece by piece, until the giant finally fell.
Here's a more polished, novel-style rewrite of the passage:
"Shit…" the man hissed, staggering backward as he tried to put space between himself and Toshi. Blood streamed from the gashes in his side, and with every passing second, his strength seemed to drain away. His legs wobbled beneath him, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. He took another shaky step back...then the world tilted.
His vision spun as his footing gave out, and with a heavy thud, he crashed to the ground. His sword clattered from his grasp, landing just out of reach.
"What... Wha…" he stammered, his trembling hand clawing at the dirt as he tried to drag himself toward the blade. Before his fingertips could graze the hilt, a shadow loomed over him. He froze.
Slowly, he tilted his head upward. Toshi stood over him, his face a mask of cold indifference. There was no anger, no satisfaction...nothing. Just a chilling emptiness that made the man's blood run cold.
"Please! Let me live!" the man cried, his voice breaking as panic consumed him. "I'm a noble! I can give you anything...money, power, anything you want! Just… just spare me!"
Toshi stared down at the man, his grip tightening on the dagger. Not a shred of remorse flickered in his eyes. His voice was cold, devoid of pity.
"I guess the noble has fallen," he said, each word slicing through the air like the blade in his hand. "Reduced to nothing more than a bug... Your empty promises mean nothing to me."
Without hesitation, Toshi raised the dagger high above his head. The man's panicked gasp was cut short as the blade came down, plunging deep into his skull. Blood sprayed in violent arcs, splattering across Toshi's face and skin.
For a moment, there was only silence. Toshi stood frozen, staring at the lifeless body beneath him. And then, for the first time in his life..perhaps in both of his lives—he felt it.
Victory.
He had won...
The crowd erupted into chaos, a cacophony of screams and cheers filling the air. The deafening roar of celebration jolted Toshi back to reality. He staggered back a step, his eyes sweeping over the sea of faces.
Disgust churned in his gut. ' A man just died, and you cheer? '
His gaze drifted back to the corpse, the dagger still embedded in the man's head. Blood pooled around it, soaking into the dirt. Toshi's stomach turned, but he forced himself to keep staring, as if trying to make sense of what had just happened.
Victory had come at a cost. And yet, surrounded by the raucous crowd, he had never felt more alone.
Toshi turned slowly, clutching his stomach. He knew he'd won, but there was no sense of triumph. If the man had taken the fight seriously, Toshi was certain he'd be dead. He staggered out of the ring and into the dim tunnel, the roar of the crowd echoing behind him.
He stopped, one hand pressed against the cold wall, his breath coming in ragged gasps. A sick feeling twisted in his stomach, rising up to his throat until he could no longer hold it back. He doubled over, retching. A heap of vomit splattered onto the ground, chunks of porridge still visible.
His body trembled. He had just taken his first life, and the reality of it hit him like a wave, leaving him hollow and numb.
"Hey! You did it, you little shit!" The familiar voice cut through the haze, and Toshi's head snapped up. There, waddling towards him, was the last person he wanted to see: the fat little man, grinning from ear to ear.
Toshi's legs gave out, and he sank to the floor, a crushing weight of exhaustion pressing down on him.
Toshi leaned back against the wall, his breath slowly steadying.
"I guess you weren't entirely useless," the fat man chuckled, clearly thrilled. Toshi barely managed a glare before he noticed movement in the tunnel. The scarred man from before stepped out of the shadows, locking eyes with Toshi. This time, there was a flicker of interest in those cold, battle-worn eyes.
The man shifted his attention to the fat man. "I don't know how you pulled that off... but a win's a win." He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a thick stack of beli. The fat man's eyes widened, his fingers practically twitching with anticipation as he snatched the money.
"How much is it?" he asked, voice brimming with greed as he rifled through the stack, licking his thumb and flipping through the bills, eager to count every last one.
"600,000 beli," the scarred man said with a shrug, giving Toshi a quick, sideways glance. "The odds were pretty bad for your boy here... but he managed to pull it off."
Toshi let out a long sigh, too drained to react, though he knew that 600,000 beli was a fortune.
The fat man's grin stretched from ear to ear, his eyes gleaming with greed. He looked like he might burst from sheer excitement as he clutched the thick stack of money, fingers tightening around it possessively. The scarred man's gaze darkened, his tone shifting. "If I were you," he said, his voice dropping low, "I'd lay low for a while. A lot of people aren't happy with you." He nodded back towards the tunnel, where a crowd of angry, hostile faces glared at them...especially at Toshi.
Toshi sighed again, this time heavier, his exhaustion settling in like lead. 'Great... Another problem.' He slumped further against the wall, feeling his body go slack as his eyelids drooped. The world blurred, and with the weight of exhaustion pressing down on him, he drifted into unconsciousness, sinking into a darkness that swallowed all noise and light.
TO BE CONTINUED!
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