Morning light quietly slipped through the window, illuminating the silent room.
Benji sat on the edge of the bed, staring at the floor. His eyes were unfocused, as if lost somewhere far away.
Elliot stood near the window, arms crossed, his expression unusually serious.
"Benji… not every fighter in this world is good."
There was a pause.
"Some of them are monsters."
Benji's eyes widened slightly.
Elliot turned toward him, his voice calm—but heavy.
"A new fighter appeared recently."
The atmosphere shifted as if the air itself grew darker.
"His name is Shilling Hoe."
Images formed in Benji's mind—an underground arena, stained with blood.
A small figure stood silently in the center.
"He killed the man who owned the underground arena before."
A lifeless body. Blood spreading across the ground.
"And now… the arena belongs to him."
Benji's fists tightened. His lips trembled slightly, but no words came out.
Elliot continued.
"In underground fighting… people don't fight for fun."
The sounds of a chaotic arena echoed—shouting, screaming, fists colliding.
"They fight until someone dies… or gives up."
Bodies crashed. Blood spilled.
Around them, people placed bets, exchanged money, whispered deals in shadows. Drugs passed from hand to hand.
It wasn't a place of strength.
It was a place of survival.
Benji's face turned pale.
"That place is just a hell" Elliot whispered
Elliot looked directly at him.
"Benji… your parents may have had a connection to this world."
His breathing stopped for a moment.
Fragments flashed in his mind—
His father fighting.
His mother lying lifeless.
Benji lowered his head.
"I can't find the truth for you," Elliot said quietly.
"You'll have to do that yourself."
Silence filled the room.
Benji's hands trembled.
"I lost my everything"
"If I stay weak , I will also ...."
" Enough, I live my entire life in terror and I always run from everyone. But this time I lost my everything. I will not run this time ....."
Elliot blinked in surprise.
Benji clenched his fists.
"I'll become a fighter."
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then Elliot sighed and checked his phone.
"I don't have much time. My club needs to decide what to do next."
He grabbed his jacket and walked toward the door.
"The nearest fighting organization center is far from here."
He paused.
"You need to go to Sunpeak City."
Benji nodded silently.
Elliot opened the door, then glanced back one last time.
"Survive."
The door closed.
And just like that—
Benji was alone.
The streets felt different.
People laughed, talked, moved on with their lives.
But Benji walked through them like a shadow.
He looked at his hands.
They felt weak.
Useless.
When he reached home, he pushed the door open.
The house was broken.
Furniture scattered. Glass shattered.
Silently, he began fixing things.
A chair.
A table.
He picked up the broken pieces, one by one.
Not because it mattered—
But because it was the last thing he could do.
Finally, he opened a drawer and took out a backpack.
He packed his clothes quietly.
Then he stopped.
A photo.
His family.
For a moment, everything froze.
Carefully… he placed it inside the bag.
Benji stood in front of the mirror.
His reflection stared back at him.
Calm.
But empty.
He put on the backpack.
Then turned toward the door.
He grabbed the handle.
And opened it.
A new journey is started for him.