Onto the tiles of the arena laid a corpse. A boxer of dark skin. His cold body was left to rot beneath the sun. It was unmoving, unnerving to the spectators so close to it.

And some distance away from it, another one. A very short woman's corpse. Young as well.

Her still hot corpse gazed emptily at the sky. Her hollow eyes did not care about the ultraviolet radiations from the sunlight burning the cornea. She just stood there, as a corpse should. Her face was a complete mess as well. Her nose was flat, her front teeth gone, and her lips shredded apart.

"I guess someone finally managed to injure me..." Her corpse also had scratch marks and deep lacerations. Some still bleeding profusely. This was what he was referring to. He did not get hit. He never did. But he still bled.

His fingers were messy. The sharp nails broken into pieces, mangled skin and flesh still caught onto the sharp edges. Some of his fingertips had the nails shaved right off, bleeding from them.

"Guess that counts. But I still haven't lost on the other hand." His body returning to his true self, his fingers healed, awaiting another challenger.

"Next."

"..."

"Still no one?" Sighing, his arm moved. It began to wander around the bleachers, aiming at one spot followed by another. He enjoyed watching people cower in fear from so little. Then, his arm ended on someone unexpected.

It was a little boy. Probably less than ten years old.

Pointing at himself, the boy trembled all over, and so did his mother seated right next to him.

"Come on." Forcing him to levitate, he dragged the little boy onto the arena. Seeing this, the mother immediately got up and ran toward him.

"Wait! Wait!!! Sir! Please! Not my son! I beg you!"

"Well, I can give you two a chance. How about a two versus one instead? Since he came here, and I chose him, he must die. Now the question is..."

Forcing her to come onto the arena as well, his body changed, matching the little boy.

"...can you stop me?"

"Look how lucky you are, I'm not even matching your body. Imagine if I did, you two would have died in a heartbeat! Am I not being magnanimous?"

"You cowardly-"

"Am I not magnanimous?!" His presence flaring up, the mother had to eat her words before spewing them out.

"I... you..."

The more she looked into his fierce eyes, the less room she had at rebuttal.

"You...are..?"

"Good!"

"Now, shall we begin?" She could tell, Alexander would not even let a small innocent boy flee. How cruel could he truly be?!

"You're not taking a stance? Fine by me!" His very small body moving elegantly, one would not believe his flesh to have matched a young boy's. His steps were graceful and his speed not to be underestimated.

"As you can see, you shouldn't underestimate me. This body is weak and clumsy, still in development, but it is still enough. All I have to do..." Since his muscles were not strong enough and his height not high enough, he had to be creative if he wanted to finish this fast.

His body suddenly tripping, clearly intended somehow, his gathered momentum was soon made to rest onto his left wrist. The light weight fully pressed on the still growing fragile cartilage, the wrist snapped. The mixture of cartilage and bone dug through the flesh, fat, muscles and skin.

Left behind, poking through the wrist, a blade of cartilage. A very sharp one.

"You can probably understand, but you don't have the right to run. I won't let you." His body was slower than the woman's, but if he aimed at her dazed son...

'Can she catch her son before I impale him? Can she run away before this body dies of blood loss?' The injury was glaring, but controlled. An open fracture was very brutal on the body, however, Alexander still managed to offset this issue with his skills. Therefore, he barely bled.

"Here I come!" His body sweating from the pain he ignored, he could tell his legs to weaken. Forcibly sending adrenaline through his veins, he recovered.

Each step he took caused the mother to wander in her thoughts. She had to form a plan. Should she run? Should she exit the arena? Should she carry her son? Should she push her son? Should she this or that?

By the time she recovered, Alexander was barely ten meters away, running straight ahead. Gritting her teeth, she took her son in her arms, at least she tried.

"Wait... baby, please stop moving so much! Mommy is-"

"I'm scared! Mommy!"

"I know! I know, that's why you have to get into my arms, I'll take you away from here." As the boy finally stopped trashing around her arms, Alexander was already three meters away.

As the mother put her foot down, luckily not wearing heels, she attempted to push herself away from him. But was she fast enough?

The mother was one meter and seventy-three centimeters tall. Alexander and her boy were one meter and thirty-six centimeters tall. Three meters away, Alexander already travelling incredibly fast for his current height, the mother weighted down by her son and the uncommon momentum she tried to gather from her uncomfortable position.

Would she be able to escape and save her son?

Could she make a miracle happen? A mother was strongest when protecting her dear children.

A blade of somewhat rigid cartilage closing in, she contracted every muscle in her being, managing to dodge the blade, scratching her nose bridge.

She had done it!

"Are you stupid?"

"?!"

Seeing her fumble down from her success, Alexander only needed to take a simple step forward and slash another time.

His blade ran through her neck, gracefully slashing her throat before taking a sharp turn, straining his muscles to the absolute limits, decapitating the boy. All in one motion.

"Did you think you made it? Did you seriously think you could avoid death when facing me? Did you believe this cartilage would break or bend on impact?"

"Well, too bad. Didn't end up this way." Coldly staring at the mother on the verge of fainting onto the arena, her dead son's body getting colder in her hands, she brushed his invisible hair from his invisible head. Whispering as her lucidity began to slowly fade. She did not even notice the boy's arteries gushing out blood on her like a hose.

"It's... okay..."

"...mommy..."

"...loves... you..."

Ignoring the farewells of a mother to her tragic son's early depart, Alexander returned to his former height, his wrist and purple torso healing in a heartbeat.

"Next."

A chilling word.

To take on the challenge this time, there indeed was a challenger.

"Finally?" Scoffing at the spectators, Alexander watched a tattooed man take a step onto the arena.

"Bastard! How could you do this?! Will you not even show mercy to a poor mother and her innocent son? Will you only stop when what? You kill everybody here!? You think life is a joke? Huh?!!"

"Mmmh..."

Coming on the arena was a former convicted criminal. A serial killer, to be exact. When he saw the portal appear in the prison cafeteria, he was ecstatic. Freedom!

But he was not so happy anymore. This man had killed over thirteen people during gang wars in Brazil. A place where it was not uncommon to completely butcher people. This man had even participated in one of such happenings, slicing the face off of a target, wearing it like a mask with joy.

But even he did not target such people. He respected every parent in the world. He wanted to protect every child in the world. His work did not really match with his belief, making him uncaring on the outside. However, Alexander had pushed the envelop. He dared not believe this man to actually murder a mother and son in cold blood. The only people he and his gang ever killed were knowledgeable adults aware of their fate when losing. Maybe he saw some gang members behead children on very rare occasions, often due to political struggles.

Even if he was forced to kill a child, he would definitely dare not look proudly ahead for the next ten years.

"This is unforgivable!!" Taking a stance, the Brazilian bore heavy eyes. He was prepared.

"You speak a lot of bullshit. Maybe intervene next time? But even if you are truthful, does it matter?" Mimicking his opponent, Alexander's body shortened slightly, his muscles bulging.

"I also want a weapon!"

Careful about the sudden silence following his request, the Brazilian saw Alexander smirk.

"A... weapon? Are you out of your damn mind?! Hahaha! This is hilarious! You want to fight me with a weapon?! What would be the point of that? A weapon would make this too easy! Why do you think I bother matching your builds? Just so I can chop you into pieces right after? Don't make me laugh! I don't mind playing with weapons, but will you be able to handle the consequence of that?"

Feeling a nervous gut feeling, the Brazilian was still more adept with weapons.

"Yes! I want one! I don't care if you take one either!"

"Sure then! What kind?"

"A machete!" It was said without delay. He already knew a firearm to be pointless. The man would shoot him dead in a heartbeat. He did not even know when to start. Could a gun even help him kill a strange monster of fantasy? He did not trust his aim, but he did trust his muscles. He dared not gamble with his firearm skills, but he would always bet on his machete wielding skills.

"No problem." Opening his palm facing the sky, a ball of white light formed over it. It then grew, elongating itself. After it formed a very thick machete, it split in two.

There now floated two machetes in the air. Waving his wrist, one flew at the man. Once he grabbed it, his gut feeling intensified. Even though he feared nothing, his body just would not stop sweating.

"Just know one thing." Slowly walking forward, Alexander rested the machete on his shoulder.

"You gave up the only possible advantage you had. Don't regret it."

"Uwah!!!" Annoyed, the man ran at Alexander, his machete ready to swing and slash his body.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk." Shaking his head at such foolishness, Alexander gently swung the machete forward. Being in range from his earlier running, the man took a step back while deflecting the blade.

"Are you running away now? I think you're a bit late for that." Each step Alexander took would force the man into retreating one step as well. At some point, Alexander left an opening for the man to exploit. He had swung heavily, his machete still high up, his right flank exposed.

"Haha!" Laughing like a madman, the Brazilian rushed in. It was his only chance. He swung his machete from left to right, trying to capitalize on such a weakness.

But when he saw his opponent move, he frowned.

Alexander saw everything so clearly. Before the man could even begin his swing, he rotated his body, putting his left side closer to the blade's path. His left arm then palmed from top to bottom, soon hitting the blade on the side, pushing it down. This disrupted the momentum, letting his already elevated right leg do the same thing. His right foot then succeeded as well, pushing the blade even further down, forcing the man to bend forward. During this, Alexander's right arm was not lazy in the slightest, cleaving down.

Aware of his predicament, the experienced Brazilian let go of the machete, trying to put space between them. However, it was too late. A man's whole body, when unable to predict anything as Alexander could, would never be able to match an single arm's speed.

The machete reached the man's clavicle, splitting it in half, soon lacerating the insides. Due to a lack of strength and momentum, Alexander could not split the man in half, stopping at the second rib. But it was enough. And more importantly, it was not over!

To give a good show, Alexander forced the muscles cloned from this man to reach their true limits.

Some said a regular man could lift a car when under this state. Obviously, it would not be without injuries, often ending up looking like a giant purple bruise instead of a man. But should he care about so little?

The stuck machete vibrating, the Brazilian was still in a daze as pain resurfaced even stronger than a few moments ago. The blade in his chest suddenly turned, the blade facing his right side. Then, this same blade abruptly slashed without any momentum, nearly cleaving his upper body in half horizontally. It passed through his ribcage and right arm like paper.

By the end, as the man collapsed, Alexander's blade was dulled and cracked while the muscles of his entire body became a vibrant purple.