While he was lying down and half-sleeping to catch up on the lack of rest from last night, he heard one of the other residents in the courtyard get up and leave.
'Is coming to say hi?' Benjamin wondered. But the person just left.
Benjamin glanced through one of the gaps in the wooden boards of his hut's wall.
*I'm kinda worried, Eluzan.* Benjamin had a feeling that he knew what he was getting himself into. It was kind of what they had come for. But he was uncomfortable.
As Eluzan had said, he came from a 'peaceful' world. And aside from his misfortunate circumstances and the bullying, Benjamin hadn't been put in a position where crime or hurting others were his only options.
*Don't be a wuss.* Eluzan's voice was cold. He sensed Benjamin's insecurities. He needed to stamp those out.
Benjamin sighed and grabbed his coat. He was not going to leave it in his hut where anyone might go in and steal it. It was warm, but it was also comforting, so Benjamin put it on.
He found a stall around the corner selling something that vaguely resembled sausages, but Benjamin didn't feel hungry. His stomach was in knots. It got a little better as he walked only to worsen again when he arrived at the back of Good Greave, the weapon store.
"Good, you brought the coat." Ardan came up from behind and patted Benjamin on the shoulder. He handed him an ushanka, a fur hat covering the top of his head.
"Use this instead of the hood. It will look better." Ardan's voice didn't leave room for protest, even if Benjamin was already hesitant about wearing winter clothes in the middle of summer. He could only sigh and obey.
After Benjamin put on the hat, Ardan led the way through the city until they arrived at an old warehouse. For how old it seemed, it was awfully crowded and well-lit when ordinary people had already stopped working for the day.
Ardan handed over Benjamin to a big and bald man at the back of the warehouse.
"Hey, Brock. This is Vrolas. He's here to fight."
"Mm." Brock hummed and unfurled his beefy arms to give Ardan a fistful of coins.
"This is all?" He asked in disappointment. He had barely gotten more than he gave Benjamin.
"If he does well, you get paid." Brock shrugged and crossed his arms. It wasn't a matter that was up for discussion. Ardan could take it and leave or argue and stay. Wouldn't change how much money he got.
Ardan sighed. He went around to the front to enter the warehouse.
Brock turned to the fur-clad Benjamin.
"No big fights tonight. There are a few warm-ups, then I will throw in you and a few other newbies. Don't surrender. You'll get paid by how well you do." Brock's monotone voice was helpful to Benjamin's taut nerves.
"Got it." He nodded.
Brock nodded for Benjamin to enter the open door behind him.
The warehouse that resembled a barn with its wooden plank walls and double-sloped roof would have looked inconspicuous if not for the people and lights shining out from within. But as soon as Benjamin entered, noise and the smell of sweat and blood flooded his ears and nostrils. It was not a warehouse anymore.
The entrance Benjamin had used was at the far back, so he was a bit from the action. There were also a crowd in front of him, so he couldn't see well.
"Come on! Get him! I bet ten copper on you, you lazy fuck!"
"Get up! Get up!"
"Get down! Watch your right! Up with your right paw, you animal!"
Benjamin would have been an idiot not to realize by now what he had gotten himself into. His initial conversation with Ardan could have led to or been the cause of a misunderstanding of social cues. But nope.
Benjamin had signed himself up to an underground fight club.
Along the wall with the fighters' entrance, there were a few benches with fighters already seated. There were also a couple of small rooms in the corners. If Benjamin had to guess, the rooms were for the 'big' fighters.
The fighters on the benches looked like ordinary guys. They had meaner mugs than most people Benjamin was familiar with, the residents of Shard of Winter excluded. But he preferred that over people who smiled while sticking needles in your palm.
There was a silver-haired fighter who looked like he was pretty good. There was a blonde guy who would have been handsome if his face hadn't been bruised and swollen. There was a younger guy who, based on his jittery legs and flittering eyes, was a newbie. Another guy next to him was skinny, dressed in rags, and looked like he hadn't washed himself in a few weeks.
It would have been noticeable if the warehouse already didn't smell pretty bad.
*You're probably fighting one of those two. Size them up. Look for weaknesses. Get ready.* Since it was his first time fighting, Eluzan figured he could show some divine grace and give Benjamin some advice.
*The old guy might be troublesome.* Benjamin leaned against the wall, unwilling to get too close to any of the other fighters.
*Winning your first fight is more of an achievement than losing.*
*Speaking of which, what about my achievement of clearing that dungeon? Did that make me stronger?*
*If it were that easy, everyone would be a good. Be patient and focus on accumulation. …and training. After this is over, we should put that healthy body of yours to good use.*
*Right.* Benjamin was a little disappointed. He had hoped he could start chucking boulders and catching bullets sooner rather than later. But it seemed that was still a ways off.
After a while, Brock entered and closed the door behind him.
"You're up." He pointed at Benjamin and his opponent.
Benjamin glanced to the side.
It was the older guy.
*Good luck!* Eluzan cheered on his avatar with a bright and happy voice.