Battle Royale [part 2]

As we advanced in the darkness, the imposing structure of the Ryushin resort loomed against the night sky.

The soft lights and silence created an atmosphere that seemed suspended between calm and danger, as if everything was waiting for a signal to explode.

My mind was in turmoil, and the decision to test my powers in the arena solidified more and more.

I knew convincing the nanny wouldn't be easy, but I was determined not to let anything stand between me and my goal.

We entered the lobby, where a faint murmur of hushed conversations mingled with the rustle of our clothes on the floor.

Despite the apparent tranquility of the place, I felt that the real battle was yet to be fought, and it began there, with my request.

The nanny stopped in front of a desk, checking the details of our suite with her usual efficiency.

Her hands moved quickly and confidently, but her watchful eyes didn't fail to cast fleeting glances in my direction, as if trying to understand what was going through my mind.

It was only a matter of time before I addressed the real issue.

Finally, when everything was settled, the nanny turned to me, her gaze curious and attentive.

"Are you sure you want to do this, dear?" she asked in a sweet tone, but with a thread of evident concern.

"It's been a long and tiring day. You could use this time to rest, recover your strength."

Her concern, although it might seem genuine, couldn't compete with the determination I felt growing inside me.

"I want to test myself," I replied, trying to keep my tone calm and controlled.

"There's something I need to discover about myself, something I can't ignore. And the arena seems like the most suitable place to do it."

The nanny studied me carefully, her lips tightening slightly as she reflected on my request.

"I understand your desire to improve," she finally said, with a note of caution.

"But fighting in the arena is not a simple training. It's risky, and it could prove to be... excessive."

"I'm not afraid of risk, in fact, it was even riskier in the prison," I replied, with a determination that allowed no room for argument.

"This is necessary for me. I want and need to improve, and to do that, I need to fight."

The nanny stared at me with a piercing look, her face devoid of any emotion.

"And why the arena? Don't you think you could achieve the same result with more controlled training? You know I can't allow you to take unnecessary risks."

"You know it's not the same," I replied, keeping my tone cold.

"A real fight, against opponents who don't hold back, is the only way to truly push my limits. I need to feel the weight of life and death on me because it's in those moments that my true potential reveals itself."

"I understand," said the nanny, her tone now sharper.

"But what do you think you'll find in there that you can't discover with me by your side? What is it that's driving you towards the arena and not towards a safer... guide?"

Her question was like a blade, sharp and aimed.

I knew what she was trying to do: she wanted to understand if there was something I wasn't telling her, something I was hiding.

But I couldn't let her dig too deep.

"It's not about distrust in you," I replied, in a firm voice.

"It's about continuously adapting, beyond the control and protections that surround me. There, in the arena, there are no guarantees, no protections. It's the place where my true strength can emerge without obstacles."

The nanny remained silent for a long moment, her eyes searching for signs of hesitation or weakness in my gaze.

The silence stretched between us, dense and charged with tension. The nanny continued to stare at me, her penetrating gaze as if she were trying to dig beyond the surface of my words to uncover the truth hidden behind them. I knew she wouldn't give up easily.

"I understand your need to prove yourself, but have you considered the consequences of what you're asking?" she finally asked, her voice a degree colder, almost like a warning.

"The arena is not a game. Once you're inside, there are no rules that will protect you. There's no room for error, and a single misstep could cost you your life. Are you really ready to take this risk, knowing there might be no way back?"

The weight of her words bore down on me, but my determination didn't waver.

"I'm aware of the risks, nanny. And I'm ready to face them. If I want to become stronger, I need to test my limits in a real environment, where every decision counts, where life and death are just a breath away. I can no longer limit myself to simulations or controlled training."

The nanny watched me for a long time, as if she were trying to weigh my words, to understand if I truly grasped what I was asking for.

Then, with a barely perceptible sigh, she accepted my decision.

"Very well," she finally said, her voice tense but resigned.

"If this is your will, then I will help you achieve your goal. I will handle your registration myself."

"But know that I won't sign you up for a simple duel, where there will be a single fight, but for a Battle Royale."

"The Battle Royale that will take place tonight is to the death. There will be no escapes, no second chances. Once you're in, you'll have to fight to the end."

Her words were like a sentence, but inside, I felt a strange calm.

I knew what it meant, and I accepted the terms.

"Thank you," I simply replied. "I knew I could count on you."

The nanny looked at me for a moment, as if trying one last time to decipher my intentions, then nodded and turned to take care of the preparations.

As I watched her walk away, I felt a mix of relief and anxiety growing inside me.

I was one step closer to my goal, but I knew I was about to enter a world where only the strongest survived.

The night was still young, and the arena awaited me.

Blood would stain the ground, and I was ready to discover just how far I could push myself to reach the true essence of my power.