The metallic tang of blood was thick in the air, the sweat-soaked scent of fear and adrenaline hanging like a dark fog around him. The deafening roar of the crowd pulsed in his ears, a cacophony of shrill screams and guttural cheers that shook his bones. His vision swam with flashes of light and movement, but all he could focus on was the figure standing across the ring—the man who had been the source of his confusion, fear, and now, a deep-seated hatred.
Min Jun.
The announcer's voice boomed through the arena, but it barely registered in the protagonist's head. "Round four—let's see if our contender has any fight left!"
The sound of the bell clanged in his ears, a sharp reminder that the next few minutes could be his last.
What the hell is happening?
His thoughts spiraled as his chest heaved. One moment, he was training at the gym, preparing for a routine sparring session, and now? Now he was here, in an underground arena, facing off against a man who could move like a blur. The worlds were merging, distorting in a way that was beyond him, and every strike Min Jun unleashed pushed him closer to the edge.
The floor beneath him felt unsteady, his legs shaking from exhaustion. His body burned with fatigue, each breath coming in short, ragged gasps. He had been in tough fights before, but never like this. This was a different world—one where speed, precision, and brutality ruled the ring.
Min Jun stood like a phantom across from him, his stance relaxed but dangerously poised. His eyes gleamed with amusement as he watched the protagonist stumble, like a lion toying with its prey.
"You're slowing down," Min Jun taunted, his lips curling into a grin that bordered on cruel. "I expected more from a fighter like you."
The words stung like a slap. More? The protagonist clenched his fists, blood rushing to his temples. What did I expect? To wake up in a world where everything makes sense?
He didn't have time to dwell on it.
Min Jun lunged, lightning-quick. His fist shot forward like a missile, targeting the protagonist's face. He barely had time to react. The punch slammed into his left shoulder, sending a shockwave of pain through his body.
Shit!
The blow sent him crashing back a few steps, barely maintaining his footing. His mind raced as he staggered to regain balance. Min Jun was relentless, not giving him a moment to breathe.
Min Jun's fists came in rapid succession—left jab, right hook, a spinning kick aimed straight for his chest. Each attack came so fast it seemed impossible to dodge. The crowd's roars intensified, urging Min Jun on.
But the protagonist's mind was working faster than his body. Focus. Stay focused.
He dodged the first jab, pivoting to the side. The second punch grazed his ribs, the impact knocking the air from his lungs. God, this hurts.
But he didn't have time to worry about pain. Instinct kicked in. He dropped low, sliding under Min Jun's spinning kick. The world seemed to slow for a split second, a brief window of opportunity. His hands shot up to grab Min Jun's ankle, using the momentum to twist and pull his opponent off-balance.
Min Jun faltered, thrown off by the unexpected move.
Now!
With a swift motion, the protagonist planted his foot firmly and spun around, landing a brutal knee to Min Jun's exposed ribs. The force of the impact reverberated through his body, the sound of the blow sickeningly loud in the ring.
Min Jun gasped, his face contorted with pain. His once-cocky grin faded, replaced by a look of genuine surprise. For a moment, the crowd went silent.
The protagonist stood there, chest heaving, sweat streaming down his face. I... I actually hit him.
Min Jun stumbled back, his expression darkening. He wiped blood from his lip, eyes narrowing. "That was cute," he muttered, wiping the sweat from his brow with a smirk. "But you're not getting off that easy."
The crowd was on edge now, waiting for the next strike. The tension in the air was electric, thick enough to feel in the protagonist's bones. The small victory was not enough. Not nearly enough. He was still outmatched, still an underdog.
But he had one thing Min Jun didn't seem to expect—his own instincts.
He could survive this.
But for how much longer?
The bell rang, signaling the end of the round. Both men stood, bloodied and bruised, but neither one backing down.
"Round five," the announcer called, his voice a thunderous roar. "Let's see if our mystery fighter has enough left to finish this!"
The protagonist barely heard the words. His hands were shaking, his vision blurred, but one thing was clear: this fight was far from over.
As the two men prepared for the next round, the protagonist felt something shift within him. This isn't just about survival anymore. It's about proving I belong here.
His eyes locked with Min Jun's—no more fear, no more doubt.
The fight was just beginning.