The arena is a shadowy labyrinth, lit by dim, flickering neon lights. The smell of sweat, blood, and fear hangs thick in the air. As the trio steps onto the sand, the sound of murmuring spectators echoes from the stands. Among them are shadowy figures—high-ranking criminals and Nine Dragons associates.
Felix's internal monologue. "They’re watching. This isn’t just a fight anymore—it’s a test."
Across the arena, three imposing figures step forward, each more menacing than the last.
—
Draco steps out first, his cold eyes scanning the trio. He moves with military precision, his body honed for tactical combat. Rangga locks eyes with him, the air between them thick with unspoken tension.
"Rangga... Been a while since we danced. You think you can outlast me this time?"
Rangga internally. "Same old Drako. He hasn’t changed, but I have."
—