"It's nice to see that I'm not entirely useless here."
My approach was the correct one. Not only have I won all my fights since I established my territory, but I've also gathered quite a large crowd around me.
I've finally been approached by neighboring territories—by Snap's rivals.
When negotiating our fight, they obviously wanted more territory. I, on the other hand, bet something more important to me.
If I won, half their fans would come to watch my next fight.
With more people watching me, more fighters will come after me.
At least, that's my plan to get better.
It does have its flaws, though. The more I fight, the more tired I'll be for my eventual fight against Snap.
But Snap has yet to return to his territory.
So I either wait and don't improve, or I improve my skills and risk my condition when I eventually fight Snap.
"No new fighter, though." I looked to my sides, scanning the crowd for a new challenger.
"Hey, kid! Hungry for a ba—"
That voice.
I swung my head around as fast as my body would allow.
"You!" That raspy voice. That crusty beard.
"What do you want here, you wrinkly waste of a human?" I snapped, my tone sharp with anger.
"To think you were becoming famous here. Ha!" Pesculo let out a laugh, his beer spilling with the swing of his hand.
"You got a problem with that?" I stepped toward the old man.
"You've wasted my time, kid. That's my problem." He smiled confidently. The crowd around him parted, giving me space to approach.
"It stopped being your problem the moment you crossed the line."
I glared at his smug eyes with rage.
"Crossed a line? I was building character in you, kid," Pesculo lowered his head to meet my eyes. "And you don't have the character to follow good leaders."
"I respect those who respect me. I follow people worth following. You're not someone who deserves my respect."
"Ha! A trainer, a leader, doesn't burden himself with respect. All we—a fighter and his trainer—need are results." He straightened up.
"I won my fights. I produced results. You gave me nothing—no tips, no strategy, only confusion." I turned and walked back toward the center of my territory, not willing to waste any more time on him.
"Then how about I show you my results? C'mon, Scream Trail."
A skinny guy stepped inside my territory—clearly his fighter. He had spotted ears and a tail. His teeth were sharp, his eyes deep black.
"Found another poor soul to torture? Scram, old man. I don't care about your petty revenges." I waved him off dismissively.
"He's only one of my top fighters. I originally planned to bring my strongest, hearing so many good things about you... but it seems I overestimated the rumors."
I looked at the guy with the spotted ears. His body was covered in bruises.
He didn't look happy to be here—just following orders from his worthless trainer.
"I'll give you one fight. But I choose the rules." I agreed, still following my plan.
"We also want to add a couple o—"
"It's my territory, old man. You don't make the rules here." I cut him off before he could get any ideas.
"You will add our rules, Alen."
My real name. Spoken aloud in a place where names weren't supposed to be used.
The entire crowd flinched. Faces went pale.
"Guess it was my fault for telling you my real name."
Even my opponent looked confused by how calm I was.
"Yeah, if you don't want an—"
"You still have no say here. An old man who can barely lift his mug of precious elixir inspires no fear in me."
For a moment, silence.
"Ha! I forgot you're just a brat who doesn't know where he is." Pesculo stepped inside the arena, spreading his arms wide.
"I am the Lord of the West. I am the undisputed owner of the western region of this arena. I can end your life, brat—not only here but outside as well. My re—"
"I don't care who you are. To me, you're still a wrinkly old man."
Now even Scream Trail looked worried.
Pesculo's face twisted in fury at being cut off again.
"Scream Trail, come back! I was gonna end this with a single test fight, but it seems I have something more annoying to deal with."
Scream Trail stepped back and hid behind Pesculo.
"Hey, Pesculo!" I called after him. "Fuck you! And don't ever come back!"
Pesculo froze mid-step and turned quickly.
"You know what!? Scream Trail, get ready to fight!"
Scream Trail's body tensed. He obeyed instantly.
"You kno—" I was cut off by what Pesculo did next.
He attacked someone from the crowd—smashed his mug into a guy's face.
"Hey! What do—"
He hit another person, then grabbed him by the throat.
"Kh-ackh!" The guy tried to break free but wasn't strong enough.
"We set the rules here, Alen," the old bastard said, tightening his grip as he stared me down.
Why is no one stopping him?
"Stop it, Pesculo!" I shouted.
"I'm not Pesculo, brat. I am Lord West, and you address me as such."
"Aghhh!" The man kicked his legs as he choked, drool spilling from his mouth.
No one moved to help.
And if no one does anything...
I will.
I charged at the old man with everything I had.
"Pesculo!" I yelled, clenching my fist as I leapt.
His man chased after me, but he couldn't keep up.
I pulled my punch back mid-air. My target was the only thing I saw—
His old, wrinkly, crusty face.
BAM!
My fist landed, hard and heavy.
"Heugk!" Pesculo flew backward, releasing the man he was choking.
He hit the ground hard. His fat body bounced slightly on impact.
"Fuck you, Pesculo!" I shouted.
For a moment, the world froze.
Pesculo held his bleeding nose, his face a picture of shock.
Scream Trail stood frozen, his face pale with fear.
The crowd was silent, waiting for what would happen next.
But I didn't wait.
I crouched beside the guy who had been choked.
"Are you okay?" I asked, patting his back to help him breathe.
"Khaaa... y-yeah... thanks, kid," he rasped, hand on his chest.
"And you? Need help?" I asked the man who'd been hit with the mug.
"I-I'm okay, kid. But you should worry about yourself." The man—now missing a few teeth—warned me.
"I know what I did. And I'll stand by it." My words were for everyone—those who had suffered under that bastard.
"I won't let anyone do what he does, not while I'm around." I stood and stared down at Pesculo.
"Now, Pesculo, West, or whatever you want to call yourself—run back to your place, or I'll beat the lesson into you. You will understand what you made them suffer."
Pesculo clenched his teeth. Rage twisted his face.
"You shitty brat!" he shouted, standing and grabbing his mug.
He hurled it at me.
I caught the wooden mug and shattered it between both hands.
"I'm tired of alcohol at this point," I muttered, crossing my arms. "Where's your territory, you shitty old man?"
"Huh!?"
"You want to fight with your rules? Fine. I'll win on your territory and take everything from you."
My tone dropped to a low I never knew I could reach.
I almost sounded like Fran.
Gasps rippled through the crowd. Challenging a Lord directly wasn't something people did—at least, not if they wanted to live to see tomorrow.
"You'll regret it, brat. You'll regret the moment the thought of defying me crossed your rotted brain."
We stared at each other, pure hatred burning in our eyes. Neither of us wanted to look away and seem weaker.
"And you'll regret everything you've done up until now," I said at last, my voice filled with determination.
"Now, come!" He turned and began to walk away.
I followed behind the old man. Now, multiple large shadows surrounded me.
"You never leave home without mommy and daddy?" I asked with a grin, eyeing the bodyguards flanking us—Pesculo's entourage.
"If you had stayed in your tiny little hole and kept quiet, you might've gotten something out of me. But now, you're walking into the wolf's mouth. You're my food, and I'll make sure my pack eats you alive."
People ahead of us stepped aside as we passed, making way as if we were royalty.
A large crowd followed—spectators and even fighters—everyone eager to see me challenge one of the Lords on his own territory.
"If I'd stayed still, maybe I would've survived. Maybe I would've even won and gotten exactly what I wanted. But I couldn't live with myself knowing I had the chance to help someone and chose to do nothing."
"Save the noble words for your victory... pfff, ha! As if you could win, brat!" He and his bodyguards burst into laughter, trying to humiliate me.
But that kind of mockery doesn't affect me.