Event

Demon was woken up the next morning by three loud knocks on his door, followed by a deep, booming voice:

"Wake up! Get ready! We leave in two hours!"

Demon got out of bed with some difficulty. Thanks to Giovanni's gift, he had spent the entire night reading and learning about the history of the Great Roman Empire, and well, let's just say there was a lot to learn. His mind was filled with questions, but since he didn't have a teacher, the only thing he could do was read and reread the book until he understood everything. And even though he was exhausted, he really wanted to keep reading right now!

But unfortunately… he had an event to attend…

'Oh fuck! The event!'

Demon nearly jumped as he remembered that he had an event today. He had completely forgotten about it and focused entirely on his new book. I mean, history is just so damn fascinating! Isn't it?

But as he thought about it a little more, Demon felt an overwhelming urge to punch himself in the face. Every other employee had probably gone to bed early to be in the best condition possible, but him… if he had gotten two hours of sleep, that was a lot! He was a complete idiot, and because of that, he was already at a disadvantage in this event!

'Ah, whatever! There's nothing I can do about it now. And it's just sleep, right? It's all mental! I just need to focus and pretend sleep doesn't exist! Focus! Focus! Focus… Oh, shit!'

Thanks to his amazing concentration, for a moment, Demon completely forgot about his exhaustion, but in its place, another physiological need made itself known. And this need was very real — oh yeah, this shit was urgent!

Feeling like an explosion was about to go off inside him, Demon sprinted to the bathroom at full speed, trying to prevent a full-blown disaster…

...

After taking a satisfying dump and almost falling asleep on the toilet, Demon took a quick cold shower and put on his new contact lenses. He was now a few pounds lighter, and his eyes had returned to that deep black color. Aside from the exhaustion, he was ready to go!

Well… almost ready — he was still completely naked, after all.

Demon headed back to his room to put on his uniform. The package he had received yesterday was still sealed on the floor, so he placed it on his table before opening it. Inside, there was a pair of black pants and a matching black shirt, which he quickly slipped into. Additionally, the package contained a set of dark leather armor — a vest that protected his torso, two small pieces for each forearm, and a pair of boots. It wasn't much protection, but it was better than nothing.

Demon quickly put on the armor and left his room. As much as he would've loved to sleep a little longer, he still needed to eat and make sure he was ready to leave on time. So, without wasting another second, he made his way to the tower's dining hall for breakfast.

The tower had only one dining hall, shared by all employees, and it was located on the first floor. The moment Demon stepped inside, he could feel multiple eyes locking onto him — stares filled with both fear and respect. Normally, he'd crack a small, satisfied grin at this, but today, he was way too exhausted to care.

Wasting no time, he grabbed a tray and headed straight to the food counter. As expected, the food here was far from luxurious. Demon wasn't all that hungry, so he just took some bread, a few eggs, and — most importantly — a steaming cup of coffee. Oh yeah, coffee was going to save his ass today. And he sure as hell wasn't stopping at just one cup.

He then sat at the nearest empty table and started eating in peace. No one had the guts to approach Demon, much less bother him, so his breakfast was shaping up to be rather quiet… Well, at least until an unwelcome guest sat down in front of him.

"Hey, Demon, I heard you made a friend yesterday! What happened? It's not like you to chat with people. I gotta admit, I'm a little jealous, you know? I've always tried to be your friend, but you really picked a rookie over me…"

Demon looked at the large man sitting across from him. Long black hair, a thick black beard braided with several silver rings, and a grotesque scar stretching across his entire face. Even with a smile, the man's appearance was unsettling.

Demon sighed at his words. He knew they were empty. The man didn't actually care about being his friend. In fact, Demon was well aware that this man wanted to cut off his head. After all, he was the eternal number two in the company — always trailing behind Demon…

"What are you planning, Scar?"

Scar didn't seem bothered by the cold tone in Demon's question. Instead, the man kept his wide grin as he looked at Demon and spoke in an innocent voice:

"Planning? What are you talking about?"

Demon clenched his fists in irritation as he watched Scar play dumb. He knew it was Scar who had told Luke where his room was, but he still had no idea why. What the hell was Scar trying to gain from this?

Unfortunately, before Demon could figure it out, another voice rang through the dining hall — a loud and firm voice, one that clearly came from someone with authority:

"Everyone, with me! Headcount, then we move out!"

Scar was the first to rise from his seat upon hearing the guard's command. He then looked down, locked eyes with Demon, and spoke with a smirk:

"Looks like our conversation will have to wait! Good luck at the event, Demon!"

Demon felt like Scar's words carried a deeper, more sinister meaning than they seemed. But after a brief moment of thought, he simply yawned.

In the end, none of this mattered. He was still the strongest person here. No other employee was a real threat to him. And right now, right at this moment, Demon's biggest enemy wasn't Scar or anyone else. It was his overwhelming urge to sleep.

Demon then pushed himself up from his chair, downed the last of his coffee in one large gulp, and followed the guard who had spoken — along with Scar and the rest of the employees.

...

After walking for a while on the tower's first floor, the guards stopped everyone and lined them up for a headcount. Once they confirmed that no one was missing, two guards walked over to a wooden hatch on the floor and, with some effort, pried it open.

Beneath it, a long staircase spiraled downward into what seemed like the depths of the earth.

Soon after, the guards ordered everyone to descend.

Demon had gone through this passage hundreds of times, so it was nothing new to him. However, judging by the expressions and hushed murmurs of the rookies, it was clear they were terrified of what awaited them at the bottom of the staircase.

Annoyed by the noise, one of the guards slammed his spear against the floor, instantly grabbing everyone's attention before barking:

"Silence! Get moving unless you want me to make you move!"

The guard's threat worked like a charm. The rookies at the front of the line rushed down the steps in a panic, afraid of facing the guard's wrath. And soon, it was Demon's turn to descend...

He stepped down calmly — not too slow, not too fast. The staircase was dimly lit, making it nearly impossible to see where it ended. And given how ridiculously long it was, the rookies — who had never set foot here before — were absolutely terrified, which only dragged out the descent even longer than necessary.

After nearly ten minutes, Demon finally reached the last step. In front of him stretched a long corridor, dimly lit by torches, where the line of employees marched forward in synchronized steps. Wasting no time, Demon followed along, and after several more minutes of walking through the seemingly endless passage, the group arrived at another staircase — this time leading upward.

More minutes passed as they climbed. And when Demon finally reached the top of the stairs and stepped through another hatch into a large hall, the very first thing he did was take a deep breath, pulling in as much fresh air as his lungs could handle. Let's just say that the thick, stale air from underground — shared among dozens of guards and employees — was far from pleasant to breathe in.

Demon took a quick look around while waiting for the rest of the employees still making their way up from below.

He stood inside a vast hall, illuminated by both torches and the sunlight streaming through the arched entrances and windows. The floor and walls were constructed of stone blocks, and a few wooden furnishings were scattered throughout the space. But... there was something else. A presence. Something indescribable that lingered in the air, staining the very atmosphere of this place.

Demon took a deep breath, bracing himself for the day ahead. Even after hundreds of visits here, he knew he would never get used to the feeling that loomed over this place. After all, this wasn't the kind of place where good things happened.

"Those from the second and third floors, with me! The rest of you, settle in here! You'll be called when it's your turn!"

Demon glanced at the guard who had just spoken and followed without hesitation. This was one of the privileges that employees from the upper floors received. Depending on their importance to the company, they were assigned different waiting areas. And Demon, as the best employee, was also the only one who had a waiting room all to himself.

Demon followed the guard alongside the other employees from the upper floors. They exited the hall and stepped onto a staircase leading up to the second floor. The stairs opened into a curved hallway lined with tall, arched windows where sunlight poured in.

Demon took a quick glance through one of the windows. And there it was — the city. That was right, they were now in the center of the city. The underground passage they had taken had led them out of the favelas, straight into the heart of civilization. A convenient design for the guards, making it practically impossible for employees to attempt escape along the way.

Demon continued following the guard until the man stopped beside a door, turning around to look directly at him.

"Demon, this is you."

Demon didn't say a word in response. He simply nodded and walked toward the door, all while feeling the envious stares of the other employees burning into his back. Everyone understood the significance of having a private waiting room — it was a privilege that only one person possessed. Him.

But Demon paid no mind to the jealous glares. He swiftly opened the door, stepped inside, and shut it behind him — locking out the envious stares along with it.

He took a quick glance around his waiting room. It was small, containing only a bed, a chair, and an empty space for stretching. Not much, but enough. Without wasting another second, Demon threw himself onto the bed and shut his eyes.

When it was time for him to enter the event, someone would come to get him. Until then? He might as well sleep. After all, there was no telling how long it would take for his turn to come up — these events usually dragged on for hours.

***

Loud knocks rattled his door, followed by the irritated yelling of a guard:

"Demon! Demon! It's your turn, get out here already!"

Demon groggily pulled himself out of bed, yawning as he rubbed his eyes. Not nearly as much sleep as he wanted, but at the very least, he felt a bit better than before.

With absolutely zero enthusiasm, Demon trudged over to the door and swung it open. On the other side, the guard was standing there — glaring at him with obvious annoyance. But Demon had no intention of apologizing. It wasn't like this guy was stupid enough to lay a hand on him before the event, anyway.

"Let's go!"

The guard snapped before turning on his heel and marching forward.

Demon just sighed, following behind at his own pace as he raised both arms above his head, grasped his right elbow with his left hand, and stretched his body a little.

They then descended a staircase, returning to the first floor. And as they walked down the corridor, Demon began to hear a deafening noise — a thunderous roar.

The sound of a crowd screaming at the top of their lungs:

"Demon! Demon! Demon! Demon!"

This wasn't the first time he'd heard these chants. In fact, it was the same at every event. After his opponent was announced and stepped into the arena, his name would be called. And those chants? That was the crowd, screaming for him. Begging for another show.

The guard leading him stopped in front of a tunnel and gave him a single glance. Unlike the guard, Demon didn't stop. He just kept walking, stepping into the tunnel as the cries of the audience grew even louder.

Finishing his stretches, he adjusted his posture and took a deep breath. He was ready to kill.

His pace was steady as he reached a small staircase leading up into the arena. And as his foot landed on the first step — A sudden thought popped into his mind. Something from the book he'd read last night.

'If I remember correctly, the Roman Empire used to have events like this… That means this place… It's like the ancient Colosseum of Rome, isn't it? And me… I'd be the gladiator…'

The moment that thought ended, Demon ascended the final step, and stepped into the light. The sun beamed down on him as three towering levels of spectator stands surrounded the arena. Fifty thousand people — maybe even more — packed the stands. And every single one of them was shouting his name with raw excitement.

"Demon! Demon! Demon! Demon!"

But Demon wasn't focused on the crowd. Without hesitation, his gaze snapped to the other side of the arena. To his opponent. The person he had to kill today. And the moment he saw their face he couldn't hide his shock.

'So it's him…'