As Kyle walked in, his youthful appearance caught the attention of some people there. They looked around, wondering how this young boy could enter such an exclusive part of the Club. The people here had been carefully screened before the entrance, so the young boy's identity must be special.

Kyle went to stand near the stage, watching the fight happening in front of him.

It wasn't much of a fight, as it was obvious who would win. Still, the crowd was lapping it all up, happy to see all the unrestrained punches with blood - and sometimes teeth - flying all about. The arena commentator saw Kyle and froze for a while after recognising him, but was professional enough not to affect his commentary.

Kyle gave a slight smile, knowing that his presence there caused quite a bit of a problem.

He didn't care.

If he didn't release his stress here, he's going to release it out there and he didn't want to let loose in the streets. He didn't feel like fighting petty thieves that hardly put up a fight. He wanted here, where people were out for blood and would at the very least, give him a bit of a workout.

It just meant some financial losses for a while.

Once the fight was over, the winner was announced, with the commentator raising the arm of the victor.

"There we have it, Igor wins again!"

The crowd cheered. Igor flexed his huge muscles and roared at the crowd, creating a frenzy. Kyle rolled his eyes. He locked eyes with the commentator.

The commentator gulped.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I have for you, a special treat tonight," he started to say, putting down Igor's arm, "Our record holder, the undisputed champion who had never-been-beaten before fighter, Ice, is here. Is there anyone here who dares to challenge him?"

Igot looked at the commentator in surprise. Normally, the winner would stay on the arena and a challenger would come up. Instead, he was ignored and a new person was up to be challenged.

Igor was not happy.

He looked up at the record scoreboard.

At the top, in bold, gold letters was Ice's name - along with the record of winning 250 consecutive fights. It had been during one of Kyle's most intensive training to hone his skills. In about two months, Kyle would fight 5 people every day in the Fight Club.

He had almost lost a few times but managed to always turn things around. He had learned quite a lot about how to fight, especially when it dealt with bigger and stronger people.

After his 250th win, no one wanted to challenge him anymore. The Fight Club was also crying buckets of blood because people kept betting on Ice most of the time, resulting in them suffering severe losses. If it was one day, it would have been okay. But after the second month rolled in ...

Finally, when there were no more challengers, Kyle had to stop. He did so relunctantly but acknowledged that there was no longer anyone that was his match in this place. He might as well go back and train elsewhere or wait for more skilled people to come.

He hadn't been back since then, however. His record had also been unbroken since it was created last year and it created quite the hype. The commentator would often use that record to egg on people to try and beat it.

Seeing that Ice had returned, it made Igor feel pretty excited. Currently, his record was 50 and he was aiming to beat that record. However, if he actually beat the record holder, wouldn't that be even more fantastic? The icing on the cake?

He looked about eagerly. Which one was Ice?

His eyes passed over a teenage boy at the bottom of the stage with disdain and kept on looking. However, no one appeared to be a fighter ready to enter the stage. Spectators, judges and those that appeared to look like a fighter was looking about as well.

"I challenge Ice!" Igor said with glee, rubbing his hands together as he waited for the infamous Ice to show up.

"No," Kyle said from below the stage, "You just finished a fight. Rest first."

Igor growled and looked at Kyle. He snorted, saying, "Little boy, do not talk when adults are talking. Go back home and play with your toys."

Kyle's mouth twitched, trying to hold back a laugh. Oh, these type of people are just falling into his lap tonight, aren't they?

The commentator beside Igor started trembling.

He had been the same person who had presided over Ice's historical fights the year before and he had seen how decisive and bloodthirsty the 'young' boy was. Right now, he looked like he wouldn't hurt a fly but after what Igor said ...

The area started feeling cold. Their hearts started beating faster for an unexplained fear filled their entire body. The glare was directed at Igor but the commentator felt it just as badly.

"C-c-calm down, Ice," the poor man stuttered, "I-I-I am ss-sure he d-didn't mean..."

"It's okay, Bob," Kyle said with a slow smile, as he took off his jacket, revealing the well-known dragon tattoo. The spectators gasped. Everyone knew that tattoo. Kyle flung his jacket towards one of the people manning the arena as he then slowly walked up towards the stage.

"Since he's so eager, why should I disappoint him, right?"

Igor's eyes widened, and managed to gasp out, "YOU'RE Ice?!"

He had heard the commentator call him Ice, but he didn't believe it. No matter how he looked at it, this was hardly the look of such a champion. The young boy, despite the impressive looking tattoo on his arm, looked like he would be in some pretty boy band.

Igor expected a Goliath and he got an ant?

He wanted to laugh, he truly did but he found that he couldn't. His laugh was caught in his throat as Ice approached. The closer Ice got, the more intimidated he felt. Why would he be so scared at this young one?

He didn't want to show his fear so he put up a more fiercer expression.

Everyone else watched the scene in fascination. They had all heard about Ice. The physical characteristics matched, especially since he revealed his dragon tattoo. What they didn't expect, just like everyone else, was how young the boy was.

Kyle put up three fingers.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Igor barked.

"I will give you three moves," Kyle explained, "Without attacking. In fact, I won't even move from this spot."

Igor was stupified.

Without a word, he charged ahead of Kyle, swinging that large arm of his straight to Kyle's head. Kyle simply looked at him, seemingly bored and just as the fist was about to land, he turned his head to one side.

The fist brushed past his face, but did not land.

"One", Kyle counted.

Although surprised, Igor didn't stop and the other hand was already on its way to punch Kyle in the gut. Kyle twisted to one side, bending at a nearly 45 degrees angle and the fist passed through the air, again narrowly missing its target. Despite the way he bent over, Kyle's feet never moved from its original spot.

"Two", Kyle said with a yawn, looking at Igor and raised an eyebrow.

Igor roared in frustration and attempted to crush Kyle's head by bringing his two arms together in a large clap. Kyle ducked at the last microsecond while internally scoffing. Such a basic, stupid move that could be avoided so easily? Obviously, Igor was as dumb as how his name implied.

"Three," Kyle said, "My turn."

From that crouched position, Kyle brought up his palm and smashed Igor's chin from underneath. Igor head jarred and ears rang from the impact, the force making his jaw clench hard. He saw stars and was disoriented.

Before he could think of anything, he felt his body being hit in three places. The force of each hit was akin to being pummeled with a blunt force weapon, sending intense pain throughout his entire body. His eyes glazed over and he fell back, hitting the back of his head on the ground and promptly got knocked out.

The arena was in dead silence.

The fight didn't even last three minutes. They had clearly seen the stumbling giant attack the young boy yet none of his hits landed. It seemed so stupid, really, as the guy kept punching but hitting nothing but air.

To them, it looked like Igor had absolutely no coordination and could not see his target properly. True, they saw Kyle moved but he had done it with such little effort that it hardly looked like he was dodging expertly. It was akin to someone stepping aside when someone was running at them.

The next thing they know, the mountain fell. They didn't even manage to catch the fast movements of Ice. He just got up from a crouched position and then, Igor was down.

"Next?" Kyle said as he faced the crowd, his eyes startling cold and unfeeling. It was at that moment everyone knew why his nickname was "Ice". One felt like their soul was frozen.

For the next two hours, Kyle fought without a break. Although it could clearly be seen that he was getting tired as he was breathing heavier, his moves had not slowed down in any way. One by one, the challengers were put down quickly.

Bob felt his role as a commentator was completely useless at this point.

The fights were just too brutal and quick that he didn't even have a chance to say anything. As the fights progressed, people started betting on Kyle only - which basically meant, again, that the Club was suffering a loss when paying up all of the winning bets.

The bookies were crying internally.

Suddenly, the door banged open.

Instinctively, everyone turned to look at who was walking in with such an entrance. Their voices died in their throat when they saw a man walk through the door, his impressive figure and aura dominating the place.

Everyone recognised him immediately.

It was the King of the Underworld himself.

Nitocris.