Everyone at the table went silent.
All eyes were on the person who stated the obvious,some were still staring while some were annoyed and continued eating like they did not hear a single word from the person.
"Why are y'all staring at me? You know I'm right."
"Kiichi, are you really stating the literal obvious?" Sévon said while about to eat some more food.
"I am so what Sévon you still know I'm on point though."
"I won't lie you are telling the truth but do you actually understand why we are doing this?"
"And why is that?"
Sévon stares deep into Kiichi's eyes in order to tell him the reason for the small family welcoming celebration, but then stops himself.
"You know what, forget it."
"See I told you there is no reason we are just doing this for fun."
Assad continued to eat in silence, his gaze occasionally drifting toward Kiichi. The man had a sharp edge to his voice, a chip on his shoulder that grated against the room's warmth like sandpaper.
Most of the crew chose to ignore him; Taura rolled her eyes, Pixia let out a scoff under her breath, and even Tasia shook her head with an exaggerated sigh. Yet, the silence hung heavily in the air, like a crack splitting the table in two.
But Kiichi wasn't finished. He slammed his chopsticks against the table, leaning in closer.
"I'm just saying what you're all thinking. He's suspicious. A guy shows up out of nowhere, acting like he's some kind of big shot, and suddenly he's part of our crew? Come on. You can't tell me that doesn't raise some eyebrows."
The tension in the room thickened.
Finally, Assad looked up, his expression calm and unreadable. He set his fork down with a soft clink against the plate.
"Suspicious, is it?That's one way to describe someone you don't quite get." His voice was low and steady.
A few crew members glanced his way Taura with a smirk, Pixia with raised eyebrows, both curious to see how this would unfold.
Kiichi sneered, "So you can talk. Good. Maybe now you'll earn your spot at this table. Because right now, all I see is dead weight, not a fighter."
The atmosphere shifted, laughter and warmth giving way to a tense anticipation.
Shuren, still seated, let out a slow breath.
"Kiichi." Her voice was steady, but her eyes held a warning.
He stood up anyway, tossing his napkin onto the table. "No, Shuren. Let's cut the act. If he wants to sit with us, he needs to prove he belongs. Just a simple spar. That's all."
The room fell silent again, every gaze flicking between Kiichi and Assad.
Assad didn't flinch. A faint smirk played on his lips. "A spar, huh? You really want to go there?"
That one line sent the tension soaring.
Some chuckled quietly. Tasia muttered, "Oh sh*t, here we go again…" while Sévon pinched the bridge of his nose, as if this was all too predictable.
Finally, Shuren stood up, her chair scraping against the floor. "Fine." She shot a long look at Assad, then at Kiichi. "You want a spar? Let's do it right. Follow me."
Without another word, she turned and strode out of the hall.
The crew exchanged glances and pushed back their chairs, trailing after her. Zemin was the last to stand, brushing a crumb from his sleeve, his gaze steady on Kiichi. Neither of them spoke as they walked side by side, the crew buzzing with whispers behind them. They reached a set of polished metal doors at the end of the hall. Shuren pressed a button, and with a soft chime, the elevator doors opened.
"Downstairs," she said simply, stepping inside.
The others piled in, excitement bubbling up. Assad stepped in last, calm as ever, while Kiichi cracked his knuckles, eager for the challenge.
Then doors slid shut and the warmth of breakfast faded, replaced by the heavy air of an impending clash.
The elevator doors slid shut with a dull clang, trapping Assad inside with the rest of the crew. The air felt thick with silence. Kiichi's challenge hung in the atmosphere like lingering smoke.
Shuren stepped forward, her face a mask of calm, and pressed one of the top buttons on the panel. Then, almost as an afterthought, she shot a glance at Assad.
"You might want to grab onto something," she said, her voice steady but with a hint of warning. "It's about to get a little bumpy."
Assad blinked in confusion.
'Bumpy? It's just an elevator.'
But before he could voice his thoughts, the floor jolted beneath him. The elevator shot upward for a split second, his stomach flipping with the sudden rush then, without warning, it dropped down at a terrifying speed.
"What the hell?!" Assad stumbled, his hand shooting to the railing as his knees nearly gave way. The lights flickered, the metallic walls rattled, and his heart pounded against his chest like a drum.
He looked around, disbelief etched on his face. Taura leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed, looking half-asleep. Tasia was humming softly, tapping her fingers in rhythm against her thigh.
Even Sévon, the quiet one, didn't flinch when the floor buckled again. Everyone was calm. Everyone except him.
Assad's grip tightened on the railing, his body swaying with the wild motion. "You've got to be kidding me… is this normal for them?!"
Pixia smirked slightly at his struggle, her gaze sharp as if she were memorizing his every move. Kiichi, of course, noticed too, a smug grin spreading across his face.
"Careful, rookie," Kiichi drawled. "If you can't even handle the elevator, maybe we should just skip the sparring altogether."
Assad gritted his teeth, forcing himself to stand tall despite the dizziness threatening to overwhelm him. He wasn't about to give this guy the satisfaction. Finally, with a heavy ding, the elevator came to a shuddering halt, then the doors slid open, and one by one, the crew stepped out casually, as if nothing out of the ordinary had just occurred. Assad was the last to exit, his legs still feeling stiff and unsteady. He attempted to straighten up, to walk like the others calm and composed but his balance let him down. Gritting his teeth in frustration, he stumbled out of the elevato And then he froze in place.
The room Shuren had led them to was vast, glaringly white under the bright overhead lights. In the center stood a smooth, flawless octagonal platform, slightly elevated from the ground. There were no cages enclosing it, just tall, steel-gray pillars at each corner, their shadows stretching long across the polished floor.
It felt unsettlingly familiar. Like an arena. He raised his gaze, following the lines of the walls until he spotted the upper level: rows of viewing spots, designed for spectators to watch the battles below. The entire space exuded one thing: combat. A place crafted to test people. To break them.
Shuren paused a few steps ahead and turned around, her eyes scanning the room before settling on Assad. "This is where we settle disputes." she said simply, her voice as flat as the sterile air.
Her cigarette glowed softly as she took a slow drag, exhaling smoke that curled up toward the blinding ceiling lights. "No cages. No barriers. Just fists, instincts, and will."
Kiichi cracked his knuckles with a loud pop, stepping forward with a grin that showed off all his teeth. His voice rang out across the empty space, bouncing off the walls in a faint echo.
"Perfect. A rookie's welcome."
Assad's silver eyes narrowed as he took in the scene the vast emptiness, the arena at the center, and the eager stares of everyone else. His chest tightened, not from fear, but from something else entirely.
'So this is how they want to test me.'
He let out a sharp exhale through his nose, calm yet focused. "Fine. Let's get this over with."