After another ten minutes, the group finally stopped, and Axel saw what they had been walking toward: a large dirt ring, about 20 meters in diameter. The sound of metal clanking and the buzz of voices filled the air as a thin, grim-looking man hopped into the ring.

  Axel narrowed his eyes. Despite the year that had passed, he recognized him immediately.

  It was Tyler. He really was the son of the Crimson Vipers’ boss. No wonder he wasn’t locked up in some prison.

  “Haha, Griffin, you really trust your son.” A voice boomed across the scene.

  A huge man, easily over 1.9 meters tall, stepped into view. His ears were adorned with massive, fist-sized iron rings that caught the light.

  Axel could feel the mood around him shift. The gang members who had been laughing just moments ago suddenly quieted, their voices dropping.

  Griffin, the leader of the Crimson Vipers, stood at the front with a confident air. Unlike Orion, the leader of the Ironfang Syndicate, Griffin was lean and dressed in a suit, making him look more like a university professor than a gang boss.

  "As for my son, he needs to see the world," Griffin said, his voice calm but firm. "Don’t underestimate him. My boy is strong."

  From their conversation, Axel couldn’t shake the impression that they weren’t just two gang bosses at odds with each other, but old friends with a shared understanding.

  Axel pushed his way to the front through the crowd, trying to get a better look. It wasn’t long before he saw the representative from the Ironfang Syndicate step onto the stage.

  The man was young—about Axel’s age. But unlike Tyler, who was full of cocky confidence, the young man’s face was blank, almost numb.

  “Heh, I bet he knows he’s screwed,” Axel overheard a Crimson Viper grunt.

  He frowned at the conversation. "Why would they send someone to die? Doesn’t that just guarantee the Ironfang Syndicate loses?" Axel asked softly.

  Two muscular men standing nearby glanced at him. One of them, a one-eyed giant, sneered and responded.

  "Kid, are you new here?"

  Axel nodded quickly, trying to show respect. "Yeah, I just joined the gang a few months ago."

  The one-eyed man’s demeanor softened a bit. He seemed pleased by the respect and leaned in to explain.

  "Well, if it was something major, it wouldn’t be settled in this small arena. This is just a routine thing. Our young gang leader’s doing it himself, and Mr. Orion's gonna show us some respect by being here."

  He chuckled darkly. "This is just a head to send over, let the young boss see some blood."

  “Send a head?” Axel thought, realizing what they meant. No wonder the young man on stage looked so defeated before the fight had even begun. His expression was numb, his body tense with fear and anger, though he made no move to fight back.

  Axel didn’t respond. Instead, he kept his eyes trained on the young man on the stage. Maybe there’s a chance...

  Axel began to scan the surroundings. The area was sparse, overgrown with weeds and littered with uneven hills and swampy patches—perfect for hiding, if anyone needed a quick escape.

  Stolen story; please report.

  Suddenly, the sound of a heavy drumbeat cut through the tension, signaling the start of the fight.

  Tyler wasted no time, launching himself at the young man with a brutal flurry of punches and kicks. Axel could immediately tell that Tyler’s Force was definitely over 90. He moved with the kind of precision and strength that was only possible with power like that.

  At first, Tyler had the complete upper hand. The young man could only block and dodge, grunting in pain as each hit landed.

  “Kill him!”

  “Knock him out cold!”

  “Come on, fight back! beat the shit out of him!”

  The crowd of Crimson Vipers roared in approval, urging Tyler on as he pummeled the young man. Axel, standing at the front of the crowd closest to the ring, couldn’t help but feel a little surprised.

  Although the young man had been sent up as cannon fodder, he didn’t seem nearly as weak as everyone was making him out to be. Sure, he was getting hit, and his movements were mostly defensive, but he wasn’t crumbling under the pressure. He wasn’t seriously injured, and his feet stayed steady despite the relentless assault.

  It was clear to Axel that Tyler had the support of his massive gang and an awakened father backing him up. But the young man in the ring? He didn’t seem to want to fight back at all.

  "You're too weak."

  Tyler grinned as he battered the young man, treating him like a human punching bag. He’d done this countless times before, but doing it in front of hundreds of people—well, it made a sickly flush creep across his face.

  A few minutes later, the young man was barely recognizable. His face was swollen beyond recognition, blood dripping from his nostrils like two little snakes slithering down his face.

  "You're tough, I'll give you that," Tyler sneered.

  With a brutal kick, the young man spat blood, his body flying out of the ring, crashing into the dirt with a cloud of dust.

  The young man staggered to his feet, raising his hands in surrender. His voice cracked as he shouted desperately.

  "I lost, I admit defeat!"

  The crowd went dead silent. Everyone stared at him—some with pity, others with mocking sneers. Axel could only sigh inwardly. It was clear now—only one person was walking out of this ring alive.

  Suddenly, laughter erupted from all around. It was deafening, and it made the young man, covered in blood, look even more lost.

  "I’ve surrendered! Look at me, I’m beaten to hell! Why won’t you just let me go?" he shouted, his voice raw, filled with a primal desperation to survive.

  Tyler wiped his hands on his pants, then jumped down from the ring, grabbing a long knife from one of his gang members as he made his way toward the young man.

  The crowd watched in rapt attention as the young man trembled, trying to stand, but the Crimson Vipers were already closing in around him, forming a wall, pushing him back into the center.

  "The fight’s not over yet," one of them sneered.

  "Trying to run?" another taunted.

  Axel stood close, watching as the young man was pushed back, inch by inch, while Tyler’s steps grew louder, closer. Tyler was panting. Although the other party was just passively beaten, his force was not low, and he had been protecting his vitals. Therefore, he was exhausted now and just wanted to finish him off quickly.

  Axel saw the look in the young man’s eyes—defeat, terror. Then he did something unexpected. He stepped forward, right into the thick of it.

  "You think you can run?" Axel spat, his voice cutting through the air. "You're dead already, what are you still afraid of? Coward!"

  Axel shoved the young man forward, knocking him back into the ring. The gang members around them laughed, mocking the helplessness of the situation.

  But the young man wasn’t looking at them anymore. He wasn’t looking at Tyler. His gaze fixed on Axel, his eyes wide with confusion.

  What’s happening? The young man’s mind raced. For a split second, he felt something he hadn’t in a long time: strength. Power. It was like someone had plugged him into a fresh source of energy. His body felt lighter, his mind sharper, like a fresh surge of blood and air was pumping through his veins.

  The roars of the Crimson Vipers faded into the background, drowned out by the rush in his ears. The moonlight bounced off the torches and blades around him, making everything feel dizzying and strange. And Tyler—Tyler’s footsteps sounded so much closer now, so much louder.

  Why won’t they let me go? the young man thought. Why are they still trying to kill me?

  Fear and rage began to warp inside him. Axel wasn’t a magician—he didn’t pull a rabbit out of a hat. But Axel had awakened his skill, Recovery, giving the young man something that was long lost in his battered body—hope.

  At that moment, Tyler swung the knife down without hesitation. He wasn’t even trying anymore—just a quick, careless slice to finish the job.

  But just as the blade descended, Tyler froze.

  What the hell?

  A pair of bloodshot eyes locked onto his. Eyes full of fury, full of life.

  Ding!

  The clash of metal rang through the air like a bell, sharp and jarring.