They say combat is control under pressure—the ability to remain functional when everything around you descends into chaos.
Combat begins long before the first strike is thrown. The one who reads distance, timing, intent, terrain, and an opponent's movements first always holds the advantage.
That is why positioning and prediction matter more than raw strength.
Humans have always fought for one reason—to seize control, to stand above others. If words fail to bring peace, then fists inevitably take their place.
That is why soldiers march onto battlefields, willing to risk their lives while keeping their minds clear amid the chaos. They have mastered the art of combat.
Victor knew that feeling all too well.
The constant awareness that death could come at any moment.
On the battlefield, vigilance wasn't courage.
It was survival.
Back when he commanded a battalion, he had always preferred peace over war. Endless fighting never truly solved anything.
The business of war produced only bloodshed, while the problems that started it often remained unresolved.
Hatred and envy were ugly emotions.
They bred nothing but destruction.
At least...
That was what Victor had believed before the world revealed its true nature.
It took everything from him.
His family.
His future.
His life.
Yet fate had granted him another chance.
This time, he refused to live for anyone else.
He would place himself above all others.
Selfish?
Perhaps.
But this world rewarded only those who survived.
That was the truth Victor had accepted, and he couldn't care less what anyone thought of it.
Outside the ring, the crowd had instinctively left an empty circle around Kel's unconscious body.
Instead of showing sympathy, the spectators cursed him without restraint.
To them, Kel wasn't a defeated fighter.
He was the reason they had lost money.
"It's not easy to earn money in this academy, and this useless ability user made me lose everything!" someone in the crowd shouted.
"What if we kill him and sell his body parts? Ability users fetch a good price on the black market, don't they?"
"Yeah..."
One man stepped forward.
Several others followed.
Victor watched the scene unfold with an indifferent expression.
'Well... that's one angry crowd.'
'Dude's cooked.'
'Could we eat him? He might increase our power,' Borack asked excitedly.
'No eating humans.'
'And shut the fuck up.'
Victor immediately cut Borack off.
Even so...
The thought lingered in the back of his mind.
'If I ate human flesh... would it grant me experience like the Drak did?'
Luckily, the crowd's advance was stopped by the supposed paramedics that appeared out of nowhere to tend to Kel.
"Back off, you bastards!" a man dressed in blue clothing and a black hat shouted. "If you do not back away, I will have to retaliate..."
The moment the words left his mouth, the atmosphere seemed to drop in temperature. Every breath exhaled formed cold mist, making the air feel like inhaling nails—painful to the lungs.
The crowd had no choice but to step back as they realized he was dead serious.
Immediately, Kel was carefully placed on a stretcher and taken away. From the combination of attacks he had received, Victor could tell he likely had a broken rib, a fractured skull, and spinal damage.
---
⧼█▓▒ Analysis...▒▓█⧽
⟦𓆩 Name: Kel Murphy 𓆪⟧
⟦𓆩 Race: Human 𓆪⟧
⟦𓆩 Level: 1 𓆪⟧
⟦𓆩 Ability: Dark Chamber 𓆪⟧
⟦𓆩 Health: 5/100 𓆪⟧ (0 HP means death)
⟦𓆩 Attributes 𓆪⟧
⟦𓆩 Strength: 15 𓆪⟧
⟦𓆩 Agility: 10 𓆪⟧
⟦𓆩 Stamina: 15 𓆪⟧
---
⧼█▓▒ System Analysis...▒▓█⧽
⟦𓆩 The host's observation is partially correct. Rib fractures, skull fracture, broken pelvis, and a chipped spine detected. The condition is equivalent to being hit by a moving vehicle. 𓆪⟧
⟦𓆩 Survival rate: 40% 𓆪⟧
---
'I surpass him in level… but his attributes are higher. His stamina alone exceeds mine. I'm jealous.'
"Hah," Borack scoffed.
Victor exhaled sharply, letting out a quiet sigh.
Why was he jealous?
Because his body was so weak that even a Level 1 could overpower him physically in human form.
While he contemplated, a sudden sense of danger surged through him. Instinctively, he leapt forward and turned sharply, facing behind him.
"Who are you?"
Victor asked, already taking a battle stance. Before him stood a man dressed in black, staring at him with an odd, almost mocking expression.
The man wore a flashy patterned shirt, his rough, overgrown hair partially twisted into early dreads, and sharply groomed eyebrows that contrasted his rugged appearance.
He stood so casually, as though he owned the entire arena beneath his feet. Confidence and arrogance were etched into his expression as he looked at Victor like someone beneath him.
"Come on, kid. The boss wants to see ya. Chop, chop, puppy," the man said mockingly.
Victor opened his mouth to respond, but the man cut him off.
"Why am I even being polite to this fuck? If you don't follow me, I'll drag you there myself. You hear me?"
Victor frowned. The disrespect was unbearable. This guy could easily be his grandson.
⟦ Cost = -2H ⟧
⟦SKILL ACTIVATED⟧
⟦ Lunar Dash :⟧
A cold pressure built inside Victor's body.
"How dare you insult my brat!"
In an instant, his figure blurred—he phased from his position and appeared directly in front of the man, launching a punch straight at his face.
"Heh… too slow."
Just as the fist was about to connect, a blinding white light erupted from the man's body, swallowing the entire room in an instant.
"Eh! Bro, did you see that? They vanished!" someone exclaimed, who had been eagerly anticipating a free fight.
"How would I know?" another voice replied.
…
…
The light was so intense that Victor instinctively shut his eyes. It felt like the world itself had been erased for a moment.
When the glow finally faded, the familiar surroundings were gone.
He slowly opened his eyes, only to realize they were no longer where they had been. Instead, they now stood in an entirely different room.
They found themselves in a VIP room.
Unlike the chaotic arena below, this place was calm—too calm. The lighting was dim, refined, and almost intimidating in its silence. And there, seated in positions of quiet authority, were the four individuals who effectively governed the entire fight club.
"Ho ho… Ricky, that was good. Efficient," a voice praised from the shadows. It was unfamiliar, calm, and laced with quiet amusement.
A figure slowly stepped forward from the darkness.
"And hello… Victor?"
Victor narrowed his eyes, staring into the direction of the voice for a long moment.
Then he spoke, cold and direct.
"Who the fuck are you?"
...