Prologue 2: Fight the despair

It has been two months since the day I left everything behind.

I wasn't able to face my guilt after my brother's death, so I ran far away without even looking back.

I took a plane toward China without any plan or ambition. All I knew as I wandered inside the airport with my small backpack containing all my savings and a few spare clothes was that I just couldn't stay near all these people pointing fingers at me and accusing me of my brother's death.

I needed to leave, the farther the better.

For how long, I didn't know but certainly not until I had found a way to make amends for what I did, not until I could finally confront my family and friends.

Unknowingly, my modest savings vanished for the location of a small room in a questionable area of a city whose name I couldn't even pronounce. I tried to find some work, but the opportunities were rare for everyone, especially for a foreigner not speaking the common tongue no matter if it was for the most gruesome manual labor.

Did I regret my choice to leave everything, including the comfort of my previous life, as I roamed unfamiliar streets, exhausted and with an empty stomach?

I did.

However, each time I considered my return, the image of my mother's face crossed my mind. Her look of horror, grief, and anger as she judged me as her son's murderer. Soon after, images of Trisha and of everyone I had ever known giving me similar looks would also come to haunt me and confirmed that I couldn't return yet.

Not until I had found my way.

Not until I had done something with my life.

Something that would make my mother proud or at least proud enough to give me a second chance and make her accept my side of the story.

To show her that I wasn't the same anymore.

What I didn't realize was that I should have looked for something to help me forgive myself first.

I didn't accomplish anything of importance as I worked tirelessly each day and rummaged through garbage for a piece of bread. All I did was punish myself.

A part of me knew I deserved to be punished for what I did. This part overshadowed everything else until it was too late until I was left without enough money to pay for my trip back.

After a year had passed, I was arrested for stealing food from a market, as I no longer had the money to afford it, nor the strength to go another day without eating. I had been unable to pay for my food for the last three days, let alone pay for a shelter to live in.

The naive and sheltered child I was when I left my country behind on a whim was confronted with the harsh reality of real life without any support.

As it was my first arrest, I barely escaped with a warning.

A warning that I didn't follow.

Without a single penny in my pocket, a roof over my head, or the strength left to do the same manual labor as I had done for the last year when I was lucky enough to be accepted for a job, I knew that I would sooner or later be forced to steal again to survive.

I was lost and desperate as I realized that without any option or practical skill at my disposal to get me out of this situation, I would soon starve to death. Until I saw a small poster on the corner of a street where I didn't want to spend more time than necessary. The small red paper was half-drenched by the rain, but it had something more than all the other flashier signs and advertising boards around me.

A portion was written in English, something that was incredibly rare in such a remote part of this Chinese city.

I stayed long seconds under the cold rain, rereading the paper a few times to be sure that I had understood correctly what it proposed.

I didn't have any skill or any money, but I could still resort to the only thing I was somewhat gifted in.

Something I had learned to hate doing, but now needed.

Fight.

That's what this paper was advertising.

Fights for money.

It didn't propose to simply fight in the streets, something I would have immediately discarded as I would just end up in prison for good this time, but gave a proper address.

Without any cell phone or any way to properly ask for directions, it took me several days of research to finally find the right place. Even then, I continued to wander around the area to be sure that I hadn't gotten to the wrong place.

I finally accepted that this two-story, shabby-looking building with a single decrepit wooden door was the right place mainly because I was tired after a long walk with just a stolen apple as my meal for the day. I hesitated a few more seconds until I noticed a discreet Chinese sign above the door.

Even after a year in this country, I still couldn't read Chinese so I obviously couldn’t understand what this sign meant, but I recognized it nonetheless.

It didn't take me long to compare it with the sign on the front of the red paper.

There was no doubt possible, so I resolved myself, folded the half-torn paper back into the pocket of my old jeans, and knocked on the door.

Without any result for long seconds.

So long that I was forced to knock again with more vigor after ignoring the fear I had of breaking a part of that door already begging to collapse.

I continued to knock on the door, refusing to believe that I had crossed half of the city for nothing until a bulky man abruptly opened it.

So abruptly that I nearly fell forward when I missed my knock. I suddenly froze in place as I faced this man taller than me by a wide margin with my hand almost touching him instead of the door. He was very intimidating and my body tensed as I noticed his bulky arms looking as large as my thighs, or maybe even larger. As I quietly waited for him to speak, I stood there motionless trying to hide my nervousness before this hulk of a man.

He finally spoke a few words that I couldn’t understand due to the language barrier. After noticing the confused look on my face, he then began to speak to me in English, something I was incredibly relieved to hear.

“What do you want?” he asked with a harsh voice and a debatable accent.

"I... I want to..." I stuttered.

I felt cold sweat roll down my back as I struggled to answer before remembering why I had come. I knew that if I followed this path, there would be no possible return. However, my hesitation and stubbornness had already cost me all my other alternatives. I couldn't just accept dying in the street, starving, or going to prison for stolen food.

These past months spent with only the next meal as my most immediate concern hadn't dulled my initial intent when I set foot in this country.

I will find my path and return home to correct my mistakes and face the people who once cared for me, no matter what I had to do to accomplish it.

If fighting with my fists to have a chance to do that was my only way left, then I couldn't refuse.

So, with renewed conviction, I raised my head to look straight at this man's black eyes and answered with a firm voice that didn't waver this time.

“To fight.”

In response to my statement, a clear smile suddenly appeared on his face.

It was unsettling for such a brutish-looking man.

“We don’t get many foreigners here. It’s going to be interesting. Follow me.”

Without uttering another word and visibly without suspicion, he turned his heels and motioned me to come inside. As I followed behind him, I found that the interior was too dark to allow me to clearly discern my surroundings.

I didn't care and followed him in silence, without allowing my will to waver.

I didn't know if salvation was truly beyond this darkness, but this was the only path left for me, so I continued to quietly follow this man as he led me through the building.

We passed through a series of doors before emerging into an alley where we continued our walk to another building before repeating the process.

That’s why he didn’t seem careful and agreed to let me enter without asking anything. The building was just a disguise, a meeting point, nothing more.

Fifteen minutes passed since I started following him until we finally stopped in front of another, more imposing building.

Except for its size, this one didn't look that different from the dozen other houses we walked past, but I knew that it was the right place when the bulky man knocked on the door a couple of times with irregular pauses in between them.

The door immediately flew open and another man let us inside. After a body check, I went through a series of stairs and was finally allowed into what looked like an office.

The room was quite dark with a single light on the ceiling. In front of me was a large desk with numerous papers on it. The glimmering light illuminated the desk and the man behind it who had his long fingers crossed under his chin.

The man looked old, very old, and was clearly of Asian descent. His face was so full of wrinkles and scars that I had difficulties discerning his traits. I could only imagine what kind of life he led to have that many scars, not to mention that I was sure that his long white hair, which covered a part of his face, was hiding some others too.

The man briefly looked at me, then quickly looked at my bulky guide who swiftly approached in front of the desk. After a respectful salute, he began talking to him in Chinese. Their exchange was brief and the bulky man quickly went to a corner of the room to stand in silence with his enormous hands joined in front of him.

The old man behind the desk finally turned his gaze toward me.

His body may be too old to have much vigor left in it, but his eyes weren't dulled by the years.

His eyes, as blue as the summer skies, examined me for long seconds while slowly going from my emaciated face to my dirty and tattered clothes.

It didn't take me long to correct my first impression under this kind of detailed scrutiny.

His eyes weren't as blue as the sky.

They were too cold, too calculating for that.

They looked more like ice that seemed to freeze me in place as its owner continued his silent judgment. As surprised as I was to be confronted with this kind of man, I didn’t allow myself to waver and stubbornly kept my gaze fixed on him and nothing else.

My resolve was already made, and it was time to show it.

So, I didn’t back down once during the long minutes of his inspection and didn't even allow a reaction on my face when a shiver ran down my spine in response to his sudden voice.

“My subordinate told me you wanted to fight, boy. This is not a playground you know. I must say that I’m quite curious about you. Why the hell did you come all the way here?” he asked in a grating, unpleasant voice but with perfect English.

“I just want to fight, sir,” I answered briefly.

“And so, for a reason like that, you followed a total stranger to an unknown place in a country you obviously don’t belong to," he remarked with a smirk. "Despair can certainly make anyone, even someone as young as you, do the strangest of things."

His voice wasn't pleasant to hear, but it also had something else in it. A kind of confidence born from years of giving orders. It felt so overwhelming that for an instant I failed to come up with words to answer.

He let out a small chuckle as our gaze met for long seconds in this uncomfortable silence.

“You have strong eyes, boy, but I’m afraid that if your answer doesn’t please me. You won't live long enough for your desire to fight to be fulfilled. So I’m asking you again, why did you come here?”

This man was right. Despair could make men do the strangest of things for I would have never imagined just a few days ago that I would find myself in this kind of situation. I knew that my life was in the hands of this man, at the mercy of his whims, but I didn't back down.

It was too late for that.

So, I fixed my posture and, with a resolute tone, answered with my true feelings.

“I came here to fight because I need the money. I do not seek strength, fame, or pleasure. I simply want to fight because this is the only thing I have left, the only thing I can do to survive. I know what this place is and I also know that, if you wish, you could make me disappear from the world without anyone even noticing. That’s exactly why I chose this place. Even if I die here no one will find me here or know what I became.”

I wanted to find my way home on my own, without begging my grieving mother to save me from a situation I got myself into.

I desired to correct my mistakes more than anything.

However, I wasn't that naive anymore and knew that I could find death easily in this kind of place.

It may be selfish, but if I died in such a way, I didn't want anyone I knew in my previous life to learn about it.

The room was silent for a short period as the man kept his gaze on me.

He looked at me for so long without saying anything that it became harder for me to breathe until he spoke once again.

“So you’re here to escape?"

"No, to have a chance to find my way back," I immediately countered.

"But you're not from here, aren't you? You did escape at one point in your life, isn't that right? That's the only way for someone like you to have ended up in this kind of forsaken place. You couldn't face your past and destroyed your future when trying to run away from it. What did you do to desir such a fate?” he asked coldly with a disturbing interest shining in his cold eyes stubbornly plunged into mine.

“I killed my brother,” I replied after a few seconds of hesitation.

I hadn't pushed him, but I was judged by everyone I ever knew as his murderer. The video of the accident proved that we had fallen together, and exonerated me in the eyes of the law, but it wasn't enough to prove to my relatives who were aware of my violent past that I didn't desire it and that I hadn't managed to find a way to accomplish my sinister vengeance.

It's to escape this constant silent accusation in the eyes of the people I knew and loved that I ran away.

An eerie silence followed my statement.

“You will not find any redemption here, but I suppose you already know that.”

“Yes,” I immediately replied in consent.

I didn't come here to forgive myself, for there was no honor or pride to be gained in this kind of place. Only money, but sadly that was the first thing I needed if I wanted to change my fate.

“Good, but do not misunderstand me, boy. I don’t care in the slightest about your circumstances. I just wanted to make sure that you weren’t a cop or some stupid tourist. I will allow you to participate in my tournaments. Here you will fight, people will watch and make bets on your fights. Of course, you will gain a percentage of the profits. However, only if you win. If you lose, you get nothing. Losers get nothing here. Do you understand?”

I could only nod in response.

It wasn't a negotiation after all.

“Good. The match will continue until one of the fighters is down. As soon as the fight begins there is no backing out, we do not allow sudden forfeits here. Also, there are no weapons allowed. You may fight with your fists and other body parts only. After all, this is not a deathmatch, but…"

A creepy smile illuminated his old face before he continued his sentence.

" ... accidents still do happen.”

If he expected a sign of fear, the man was disappointed as I continued to stay unwavering in front of his cruel gaze while hiding the worry and dread in my heart.

"What's your name boy?” he suddenly asked as if remembering this oversight.

“Thomas,” I briefly answered.

“Good, Thomas. You can leave now. My subordinates will explain to you the other details.”

The tension in the room slowly eased, but I didn't allow my body to relax before I was out of this building.

To my surprise, the bulky man accompanied me to a small hotel run by a lady probably as old as his boss and paid for my room and meal without exchanging a single word.

After annihilating my modest dinner, I was finally able to lay on a real bed, the first in a long time, and immediately succumbed to a dreamless sleep. It seemed to me that I just spent a couple of minutes like that when I awoke the following day. My whole body was sore, but I felt better. However, with my head clearer after a meal and a good night's rest, I started to have the disagreeable impression that I had made a terrible mistake and kept replaying the scene of my encounter with the mysterious old man.

I smiled wryly knowing perfectly well that it wasn't possible to back down anymore.

I will fight in an arena in three days.

That bulky man explained that to me and assured me that I would be contacted by their organization the day before my first match.

Without another choice, I decided to recover my strength until the time for my fight finally arrived.

I glanced at the small amount of money the man had left for me.

It reminded me of the time half a year ago, when the few days of exhausting work I was able to do here and there weren't able to afford me meals and a roof above my head. At the time, I had no choice but to sell my belongings including the watch I received on my 16th birthday. All of it was worth around three thousand Chinese Yuan, which was equivalent to five hundred dollars. By selling it, I gained just what I needed for temporary food and shelter.

However, all I did was postpone the inevitable.

I should have used this money to return to my country when I had the chance.

If I wanted to gather this kind of money again, I didn't have a choice anymore.

I had to win the fight in three days.

With this new goal in mind, and after having sufficiently rested for my taste, I started to move around in my small room to reawaken distant memories of training I had done when my mother's solution to calm my temper was to give me a place where I could fight, a place where I could get rid of the demons and bitterness lurking in my heart.

At the time, I didn't need to physically vent, all I wanted was recognition from the people around me for my efforts.

This solution certainly didn't have the desired effect, but at that moment, I was grateful for this knowledge that would undoubtedly be very valuable in my upcoming confrontation.

Three days passed in the blink of an eye with awkward movements becoming once again more familiar. The training also prevented my mind from wandering too much, and I was certainly grateful for that, as each time I was forced to rest, I was assailed with an irresistible desire to see my family again.

This year on my own had helped me mature.

When I first arrived in this country, I wanted to be punished more than anything else, as a way to atone for my past mistakes.

However, time had done its work.

My grief wasn't over, but I was done to atone for my violent past in this fashion.

I was finally ready to go back home.

It was too late to back down from the following confrontations, but if I was able to survive this and return to my country, then maybe I would finally be able to do something useful with my life.

Something I could be proud of.

This was my choice and my path.

My thoughts were interrupted by the banging sound of my room door. I took a glance at the clock and quickly understood.

The time had come.

Thus, I walked toward the door and slowly opened it.

I was met by the indifferent gaze of a mysterious stranger. He wore casual clothing, which I paid little detail to. What I was paying attention to was his impressive height. He towered over me even more than the bulky man who led me to this hotel.

“Are you Thomas?” he asked with an indifferent voice.

“Yes.” I immediately replied.

“Good. Then come with me.”

He immediately began walking toward the elevator without another word or another look in my direction. I quickly grabbed the little bit of money I had and quickly followed after him. In front of the crappy hotel, awaited a black sedan that drove us toward the outskirts of the city. The ride took around an hour until we arrived at another urban location.

I spent a full year inside this city, but I never drove anywhere and certainly never walked such a distance.

Unfamiliar roads and buildings were the only confirmation I needed to understand that I had no idea where I was, which wasn't particularly reassuring.

The man motioned for me to go inside the building, so I immediately left the car before he started driving away. My heartbeat began to increase, as I got closer to the door of the mysterious yellow building appearing completely unremarkable from the outside.

As I entered, the door behind me suddenly closed shut.

Not ominous at all...

A tall, middle-aged man, dressed in a fancy suit, approached me. Despite his elegant clothes, he couldn't hide his fit physique and the impressive muscles on his arms. Not as impressive as the bulky man who had led me to their boss, but still imposing enough to make me gap at him for a few seconds while cursing at the fact that every man I crossed paths with appeared to be able to crush me without any effort.

Praying that my opponent wouldn't be as physically impressive, I nearly missed this man's following words.

“Follow me,” he simply said after a curious look.

His voice sounded quite rough, but I didn't pay it any mind and followed him into an empty dark room. When the lights on the ceiling were abruptly turned on, it revealed that I had been wrong.

Dozens of people were already waiting on bleachers with their faces covered by masks or pieces of clothes and their bodies half-hidden in a darkness that the powerful lamps weren't able to dissipate, probably on purpose. I couldn't see their faces, but I could feel their gazes filled with curiosity and probable mockery toward me. I was after all quite young to be in a place like that.

“Kid, the match will begin in a few minutes. As for the time before your fight, use it as you wish.”

I nodded at my guide to show that I understood his words despite his terrible accent.

However, I didn't have much time to let the fear and apprehension clenching my heart do their grim work as my opponent appeared from beyond the darkness just a few seconds later.

I took a curious look at him before thanking God that it wasn't a mountain of muscles.

The man was lean and short, shorter than me by at least a head. He was of Asian ethnicity with shoulder-length black hair tied in a ponytail and an arrogant grin on his lips as he looked at me. He was already shirtless revealing his well-defined abdominal muscles, something I was sadly incapable of showing.

“Kid, it’s time!” suddenly shouted the man who led me here, making me realize at the same time that I had spent more time than I thought staring at him. The fear and apprehension I had before my arrival were still here, but they had considerably lessened after seeing my opponent.

I knew that I shouldn't judge this man based on his appearance, but I still couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief seeing that I would not have to fight some herculean man, like all the subordinates I crossed paths with.

We both approached and prepared for our upcoming fight in a wide bare space on the concrete floor.

The man in fancy clothes came between us and would obviously act as the referee.

“Are you ready?” he shouted while raising one hand above his head.

My entire focus was on the short man in front of me and the reverse was also true as I noticed that my opponent clicked his tongue in annoyance, probably because he noticed that I had relaxed when I saw that he would be my opponent.

Great, I angered him...

Determined to end this quickly with a kick to his abdomen as soon as I get the signal, I tried to ignore my opponent's venomous gaze.

Immediately after the referee's hand was below head height, I sprinted toward him at full speed with this intent in mind.

My opponent didn’t have the time to react as I delivered a powerful kick to his stomach.

Or so I thought.

With a grin on his face, he sidestepped quickly to my right. My kick just grazed his body whilst I received a powerful punch to my jaw. The shock made me stumble backward a little. Soon after, without having the time to retaliate, I received another punch, but this time to my abdomen.

The blow hurt so much that I almost fell.

An opportunity to give another blow that my opponent didn't seize.

I fought the pain and tried to tackle him to the ground. I was physically stronger than him and intended to use this advantage. However, as he did before, he easily avoided and with a simple kick to my legs made me fall to the ground flat on my face. I turned around, but before I could stand up, the man sat on my stomach and began throwing punches in my face. I guarded my head as best as I could, but he was accurate. Each time a blow landed, it made my ears ring in protestation.

No matter how much I struggled I couldn't throw him off me either.

Between his blows, I was able to discern his face and the arrogant smile on his lips.

That's when I finally understood.

This man had been playing with me since the beginning. There was no such thing as an easy opponent for a first fight here despite his appearance.

With reluctance, I finally admitted defeat after what seemed like an eternity under his vicious blows.

I tapped the ground three times with one hand while trying to continue to protect my face from the avalanche of punches with the other.

To my surprise, the referee didn’t stop the match but continued watching us as if nothing happened.

I wasn't standing anymore and had made a clear sign of submission, but no one stopped the match for me.

I didn't understand until I recalled the words of the old man.

As soon as the fight began there was no backing out.

They didn't allow forfeits.

This simple realization hit me harder than all the punches landing on my face and body.

No matter how hard I struggled, there was nothing I could do to get out of this situation. Finally, when the storm of blows finally ended as abruptly as it began, I was barely conscious anymore. I could feel blood flowing all around my face and taste metal in my mouth not knowing how many teeth were broken with his onslaught.

Without any strength left to move, and my mind hovering dangerously close to unconsciousness, I almost missed the sensation of having my hair pulled.

It took me a few seconds of effort to open my swollen eyes and understand that he was showing my face to the pleased spectators if the waves of laughter I could discern with my ringing ears were any indication.

Defeated, and humiliated, I didn't have the strength to feel outraged at this instant.

However, when my opponent began to touch my face with his fingers circling my left eye, I understood that all this wasn't enough for him yet.

He wanted to hurt me more.

This realization similar to an electroshock made my motionless body react once more and my resistance finally resumed, but it was too late. With evident ease, he expertly blocked my arms with his legs and started his grim work with a satisfied smile on his lips.

I resisted, screamed, and struggled as hard as I could, but all I could really do in the end was scream in pain and horror after he finally managed to pull out my left eyeball.

The pain was completely unbearable.

I had never felt physical pain like this ever in my past life. My mind almost went blank from it. I soon felt myself drifting into unconsciousness while hearing laughter from the surrounding audience.

Pleased with his work, my tormentor finally stood up and watched me for long seconds as I lay pathetically on the ground, covered in blood. As in a nightmare that I had never had, I discerned with my remaining eye this man smashing my eye on the ground with his feet.

It was the last thing I saw before finally passing out.

———————————————————

I found myself in a hospital bed after finally returning from my unconscious state.

My entire body was in pain from the fight while my mind was extremely hazy until it all became clear again. After I recollected that awful memory, my hand began to near toward my left eye.

I only felt bandages telling me that it wasn’t a nightmare.

In fact, it was a nightmare, but it was also real.

I didn't even have the strength to scream in horror but the shock from that fight still echoed within my mind.

I gritted my teeth.

My emotions were beginning to grow out of control.

I wanted to stand on my two feet, so I tried to get out of the bed, but as soon as I tried to stand I instantly fell down to the floor. The pain from the impact resounded throughout my whole body.

As I looked at myself, I could only feel like crying.

I stayed without moving until a couple of nurses entered my room.

Their eyes widened seeing the state that I was currently in.

They quickly rushed to me and helped me return to bed.

I thanked them with a lifeless voice and a fake smile which quickly disappeared after they closed the door behind them leaving me alone with my pain.

——————————————————————————————

Several days had passed since that fight and my body was still in a pitiful condition.

For the entire duration, I continued to lay on my hospital bed while trying to chase the traumatic memories of the fight from my mind. In an attempt to do that, I also wondered how I would be able to pay for the enormous hospital bill.

My future looked grim before the fight, but now it was hopeless.

I received the beating of my life from a Chinese midget who took my eye as a trophy.

Fucking psychopath.

I was full of rage and shame. The beating I took was completely one-sided, but I brought this upon myself after all.

The old man warned me about this.

This was not a place for tourists and more than everything, I deserved it.

The pain in my eye was probably far from the suffering he had to endure in the accident and the crushing sensation I feel in my entire body was probably not close from what he endured all those years of torment

While I continued to wander in my thoughts, I heard a knock on the door.

I immediately turned my head to my left from that abrupt interruption. I felt unease oozing out from the door. However, that uneasiness felt somewhat familiar.

My luck couldn’t be that bad.

Before I could say a word, the door slowly opened to reveal a lone old man walking into my hospital room. I couldn’t help but gasp when I saw that it was the old Yakuza. Without uttering a single word, he walked toward me with his cane in his left hand before seating himself on the chair next to my bed.

Before I could speak the old man smiled at me.

“Did you like your first fight?” He asked.

It took me a few seconds before I recollected my thoughts to answer.

“I’m not sure we could call that a fight.” I answered helplessly.

“I agree. It was more of an execution from my standpoint. Well, if you hadn’t seen that coming then you’re quite stupid.”

I couldn’t respond anything to that.

A hint of disappointment quickly flashed across my face.

“By the way, I have already paid your hospital fee.” He said.

My lone eye widened at his sudden words.

“Why?” I asked in incomprehension.

“Hmmm…”

The old man let one finger run across a profound and disturbing scar located on his left cheek while muttering. However, I simply ignored it, as most of my attention was focused on his early statement and on the eerie smile forming on his face.

After a few seconds of this ritual, he smiled once more at me.

“You are weak. Nothing, but a little boy who pummeled all the other children who were smaller than him and because of that you thought you could fight with adults and even look down on them, simply based on their look. If that is the case, boy…”

The word boy felt emphasized as it left a deep impact on me.

“...let me tell you this. The world is much bigger than what you think. You got lucky after only losing an eye against him.”

For the first time since he entered the room, I suddenly broke eye contact to look at my hands with shame. Everything he said was true.

There was nothing to deny.

“But still… I can’t help but be intrigued by you.”

I looked at him once again.

“Why?” I asked.

“I don’t know. I just feel it when I look in your eyes, or… I should say your eye. Hehehehe…”

That was not funny.

“Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that… I have the feeling that you can be much more than just the little bully you were back then.”

I tilted my head to the side after his statement.

“You’re wrong… What makes you think that you know more about me than I do about myself.” I asked with a hint of coldness in my voice.

“Well, if that is what you think then there is nothing that I can do. I don’t know what you did that you’re so desperately trying to destroy yourself, but I don’t care. However, I have an offer for you.

I was listening very carefully to his words.

“I will personally teach you how to fight if you agree to continue fighting at least once every two weeks in a match similar to the one you had fought. If you succeed to survive for three years in that ring, then I will give you the thing that you desire the most in this world. How does that sound?”

I could only stare at him in suspicion after his mysterious proposition.

“Then what is in it for you? I asked.

“As for me. I will get fifty percent of your winnings as payment for the training you receive."

I immediately began to rethink my limited options.

I knew that there was no way to survive another one of those fights.

With only one eye left, I was sure that my next opponent would take great pleasure by ripping the last one I had.

As much as I hated myself, the idea of becoming blind wasn't very appealing.

“Are you running away?”

“What?” I answered stupidly to the sudden question.

There was no more smile on his face this time.

“Are you running away from your sins? Are you going home to your mom crying while apologizing? Is this the extent of the determination to make up for your crimes?” He said in a cold voice.

I could only open and close my mouth without uttering a single word, like a fish out of water.

“You can refuse and become a beggar or sell your body for all I care. Now make your choice!”

The last sentence was told with so much force that it made my entire body tremble in response.

His blue eyes looked at me as if he could see straight into my soul. It made me want to hide under the protection of my blanket. I desperately looked away from his fierce gaze until my single eye glanced at the broken mirror hanging on the wall at the right side of my bed.

It had been so long since the last time I looked at myself.

The face in front of me was almost that of a stranger

I could only see a shadow of my former self.

More than a year without a proper meal had made my round face look scrawny. Under my eye, non-covert by a bandage, was a large dark ring. I looked surprisingly terrible. My face was extremely pale, except for the bruises I gained from that fight. So much so that I wondered if I wasn't going to die soon.

It was the first time I noticed it, but I looked similar to him.

It was almost as if I could see my brother looking at me in this crappy mirror. Everybody said we were totally different, but today I understood that it wasn't the case.

I never felt closer to him than at this moment.

Once again, it hit me. I felt guilt as strong as the day of his funeral.

I really made Jordan suffer a living hell. I pummeled him every single day. Then I let him die in my stead. I couldn't run away from this sin.

I clenched my fists as strong as I could before turning my head to face again, those two eyes like sapphires that seemed to shine in this dark room.

“I… I accept your offer.”

When those words finally left my mouth, his gaze became gentler and a wide smile illuminated his old face making him look ten years younger.

“Excellent. It took you long enough to make up your mind. Well, I guess it’s good as long as you understand. One of my men will take you to my mansion at the end of the week. Make sure you sleep well before that because you will have few opportunities to sleep later on.”

He gripped his cane and stood up before leaving the room while lightly chuckling as he made his way out.

I forgot to ask about what he meant by ‘the thing I desire the most’, but this wasn't my main thought.

I had to survive those three years. There was no point thinking about it for now.

Soon after, I fell down from my seating position into the soft clutches of the bed.

Once I was sure he left, I let out a huge sigh.

I looked in the mirror one more time before slowly drifting to sleep.

——————————————————————————————

As he promised, a man in a black suit came walking into my hospital room three days later to pick me up.

I still felt tired as hell and the pain of my eye hadn’t died down a bit since the visit of this old geezer. However, if I wanted to survive the next fight taking place in two weeks I had to start training as soon as possible.

After a little more than an hour of driving on the highway, we arrived at an impressive mansion with a sturdy metal gate. I could see at least a dozen guards in black suits situated near the entrance.

The car stopped to let them check the interior.

Who the hell is this geezer?

This question immediately popped into my mind in this instant.

He was dangerous for sure, but I didn't think that he was just some regular Yakuza.

Wait a minute we’re in China. Aren’t Yakuza from Japan? Then is he a part of the triad? Probably, considering the guns on the belts of the guards.

These useless thoughts kept circling in my mind while I was being searched.

After a second body check, I finally entered the large mansion.

How should I describe it? Well, let’s just say that it was weird. I was expecting the entire mansion to be filled with decorations more luxurious than the one next to it.

I was totally wrong.

First, the garden was…peculiar.

Well, there was no garden.

Not a single flower or much less a blade of grass was present. All I could see after entering through the large gate was a single stone road leading toward the door of the main building.

After looking at both sides of the path, only an incredibly large barren space with nothing but stones and sand could be seen.

It was as if I was in the middle of a desert.

The door of the main building was normal without any ornaments to be seen. I was a little disappointed, as I did not see a large door knocker in the shape of a majestic lion's head.

For this crazy geezer, I suppose that a hyena would have been more correct.

One of the guards, accompanying me to the door, opened it without a ceremony and told me to enter.

The interior was just like the garden.

Empty.

There were only a couple of empty shelves along the walls of the dull room. There was scarcely any light illuminating the room either. The only sources of light were a couple of lamps along bolted to the walls.

Not even a single window could be seen.

The room gave a creepy atmosphere to the mansion just like the kind from a horror movie.

Is he a vampire? Shit, there’s no mirror either.

I shuddered at the thought.

After I continued to follow the guard to my final destination, we walked past a couple of vast rooms and glanced inside some open door rooms. I found that there were more men inside the mansion than furniture.

I soon arrived in front of a large door, which looked very different from the others. The door was massive and it was made of a metallic material without any handles to be seen. While I was wondering if it was an electric door, the guard walked closer to it and spoke with a clear voice.

“Sir, I brought the ‘Cyclop boy'.”

I frowned, hearing his sentence.

Cyclop!?!… Bastard. Fuck you. Well, I can’t deny the part about my lonely eye, but just thinking about it kinda hurt.

While cursing the guard in my mind, the door slowly opened without a sound.

Just like the first time I met him, there was only a large desk with the old man in front of it. He had his fingers crossed under his chin. Everything was exactly the same except for the large smile I saw on his creepy scarface.

“Leave us.” He said in his ancient voice.

His commanding tone didn’t allow any space for discussion. The guard quickly bowed and left without even a glance in my direction. The door closed behind him as he left.

Now it was just the old hyena and me in a small office.

The room was also similar to the others, dull and windowless. Seeing his smile, I felt like a new prostitute meeting her first customer. I felt my body becoming tense, just thinking about that.

“Relax boy, if I wanted to hurt you I would have already done it.”

“Yes… sir.” I replied without relaxing one bit.

“How are you feeling?”

Surprised by his sudden interest in my welfare, I responded with a voice louder than necessary.

“Perfectly well… sir.”

Crap. I hope I didn’t anger him.

His smile only grew larger.

Maybe he really does care about me...

I took a closer look at his face.

He smiled sadistically.

Nope… Not a chance.

“Excellent. You will soon begin your training once we finish here.”

“Yes, sir. So…” I paused.

I looked at him questioningly. Making sure to choose my words carefully.

“What kind of martial arts will I be learning? Judo? Karate? A mix of several styles?” I asked.

I was damn serious, but the old geezer just laughed uncontrollably. I was right about calling him a hyena, his laugh was irritatingly similar. I could only feel my head increasingly becoming hotter.

“Why are you laughing?” I asked with irritation.

“You think you can learn a martial art in just a couple of weeks. If you want I can teach you, but when the next fight will start, I doubt a couple of breathing exercises will save you. I will not be teaching you any martial arts.”

“Then why did you invite me here?” I asked.

I grew angrier each second even if I knew he was correct.

“I will not be teaching you how to fight. What I’ll be teaching is… how to survive.”

“Isn’t it the same?” I shrugged my shoulders.

He smiled once again.

“Maybe some time ago when it was created. Nevertheless, with time, each martial art eventually became more focused on how to differentiate their style from others than how to be more effective. You could say that the majority of martial arts which are taught now are just the shadow of their true purpose: a way to kill your opponents.”

I pondered about what he said for a while.

I didn't know if this was the truth or not, but he was right. I didn’t have the time to learn martial arts to defend myself.

“Then, is this what you will teach me? How to kill my opponent?” I asked.

The old man fell silent for a while.

“Yes and no. As I said previously, I don’t organize death matches. However, I will teach you how to fight with everything on the line, just as if you wanted to kill. You won't be strong or skillful enough to succeed, but you can probably deal enough damage to defeat your opponent. I will teach you how to move, how to read your opponent’s movements and show you where you must strike. My training will be difficult and if you don’t give it your best, the next fight will end up just as bad as the last one.”

“…”

I didn’t have a choice anymore. As far as I could remember, I fought. I was just a violent guy who didn’t know anything else but fights.

Or so I thought.

However, after having my ass kicked with such ease the other day I understood that even fighting was a mystery to me.

I will learn and survive the match. If I win in two weeks, I will learn something else. Anything will do. This way, if I survive those three years, I might be able to return home. I might also become something more than just a simple brute. Yes… I will survive, learn and return home. I will stop fighting after those three years.

Then… Then, I will become something more than just the bully that I despised in the memory of Jordan.

I swear it.

“Are you ready boy?” His voice still retained its ancient tone.

My thoughts were clear to me now.

“Yes… Let us begin.”

——————————————————————————————

It was hell.

I was tired. The muscles within my body stung with unbelievable pain. Even the muscles I had never known existed hurt like hell.

I was in high spirits before we started but, after all the constant running and bodybuilding, I was no longer sure that it was a good idea.

It had been a week and a half since my hellish training began and I didn't learn a single thing.

I was exhausted.

Was he not just trying to make the victory easier for my next opponent?

“If you have time to daydream then give me another fifty pushups!”

I swear I will kill him one day.

The day had already turned dark in his large garden, or rather his desert, when he finally told me that my painstaking training was over for today.

I was so tired that I couldn't think straight anymore.

I snapped.

“Fucking geezer, why the hell am I still doing this shit? I thought you were going to teach me how to survive. I haven’t learned a single thing yet.”

I gasped for breath after my long sentence.

With each breath, I realized what I had just done.

Forget the match next week, he will kill me right now.

“You’re not satisfied?”

Hearing that, I was prepared for the worst. As a result, I was not so sure how I should respond.

“Eh… Well… No?” I said with bewilderment and nervousness clearly shown from the tone of my voice.

“I told you that it would be difficult. You knew it and you accepted.”

A long silence followed his sentence.

Is he waiting for me to answer? I don’t want to answer. He was right but I couldn’t say it.

“However, I understand your frustration. Don’t worry, we will stop with the strengthening. I will begin to teach you, but it was a necessary step. Do you teach a baby how to run? No, he must first learn how to stand. It’s the same for you. Now go rest, we will start at 4 am tomorrow.”

“Yes, sir.”

Glad that I escaped a near-death sentence. I bowed and quickly left. Afterward, I returned to the room given to me.

The following day, I resumed my training.

As promised, there was no longer any running.

Instead, I stood in front of my hyena master trying to anticipate where he would strike with his bloody cane.

We had already started two hours ago and my body was covered in bruises.

The old geezer seemed to be having quite a bit of fun.

I was beginning to regret not doing pushups.

“Ouch”

“Miss. What a shame. Try again.”

“This is not fun… Ouch.”

“Try again.”

God, I hated that smile.

——————————————————————————————

The day of the match finally arrived.

I rested the entire day yesterday to preserve my strength.

It was supposed to be a good rest, but each time I thought about the match, my left eye had begun to sting in pain.

I should probably stop calling it my eye, I probably should call it my hole. Yes, that was better. My real eye was crushed on the floor of the factory after all.

My hole hurts.

In fact, it was not better; it made me sound like a pervert.

I spent the entire night thinking about such things. As a result, I was exhausted.

After a long time in the car, we arrived at a place different from the previous place where I fought before. Probably not to be caught by the authorities.

I need to stop thinking about irrelevant things. This is not a game. I must focus or I will be crushed again. Worse, if I don’t win this fight the geezer will probably tell me that I’m useless and kick me out. As much as I hate him, without any money I’m sure that I will die in the street or end up in prison.

I came to this country out of desperation but, it became different. I had a goal. I couldn’t lose if I wanted to return and apologize to my mom.

My adversary finally arrived.

My wish was granted.

The man in front of me wasn't a midget, he was simply huge.

I prayed every night to not face the midget eye crusher again.

Now I had to face a giant.

I was quite tall with my six feet, but he was at least half a foot taller than I was. My opponent was black and had enormous muscles. His lips twitched to form a smile when he saw me.

His face was enough to understand that he thought that I was a midget.

I finally understood why the eye crusher was pissed last time.

"I’m so gonna kick his ass." I muttered under my breath.

While burning with anger and motivation to crush him, the same referee as last time came close to us.

He seemed to remember me. Why does everybody smile when they see me?

The match began the moment he put his arm down.

I heard a cheer from the audience, but I couldn’t care any less.

Unlike last time, I didn’t suddenly rush toward my opponent.

I couldn't make the same mistake twice. I couldn't match him in strength. I knew that much just by looking at him.

I also realized that it would be instantly over if he caught me.

Suddenly the giant rushed in an attempt to tackle me. I evaded by simply rolling to my right.

He wasn't just huge, he was also fast. He almost caught me on his first try.

Without letting me the time to adjust my position, he rushed toward me once again.

He’s drawing his right arm back. He’s preparing to punch me... No. His foot. It’s a left kick.

I evaded by a hair’s breadth. If I hadn’t seen through his feints, he probably would’ve smashed me by now.

Thanks, geezer. I owe you one, I will never ever doubt you or your fucking stick *cough* I mean your mighty cane.

Anyway, now I’m sure that I won’t last long at this rate. I got lucky but that won’t last. I need to end this quickly.

It was time for the counterattack.

He tried to tackle me again.

This time it was a left punch.

His movements were wide and easy to read. I evaded with a side-step to my right. I felt the air produced from his punch on my face. I didn’t pay any mind to it and without giving him the chance to turn I put all my strength into my right leg.

*Crackkkkkkk*

His voice filled with pain rapidly covered the sounds of his knee shattering under the pressure of my kick.

He may be stronger than me but that didn’t mean that he was invincible.

His joints were as frail as mine and by aiming for the side of his knee joint, I crippled him.

The geezer was right. No matter how strong you get, the weakness of the human body would never change.

It was my win.

He attempted to stand up several times, but he fell just as many times. He finally succeeded by putting all his weight on his right leg.

This time I rushed him and while evading a weak punch, I crushed his right knee.

His screams were loud and full of agony.

Unable to stand anymore, he fell to the ground just like me, a month ago.

I glanced at the referee who was still smiling.

"He is not KO yet. Finish him.”

Just like I thought.

Without a word, I slowly walked toward him. He noticed my intentions as I slowly came closer. He began to scream for help from the referee and the audience, but he just got waves of laughter in response. He then began to crawl on the floor away from me but, with his two knees shattered, he couldn't move quickly.

After finally being close enough to the man, he began screaming for mercy.

I simply kicked him in his temple.

This time he was definitely out.

No need for cruelty.

I had enough blood on my hands.

It was my victory.

I took a look at the audience.

I saw the blue eyes of the old man staring at me with what looked like an accomplished smile on his face.

Looking at his smile, I understood.

He was clearly expecting something from me.

However, I didn't have a choice anymore. I won only because of his training. I had to continue winning those matches to return home in three years.

This was only the beginning.