First Fight

The air was thick with the scent of sweat and blood. The battlefield was still stained red, a chilling reminder of the brutality that had just unfolded. The crowd's deafening cheers echoed across the arena as the massive holographic display flickered back to life.

A figure shimmered into view— the host. His voice boomed across the stadium, brimming with excitement.

"Well, well, well. We have our first winner—Neon! And now, without further delay, let's move on to the second round!"

The cheers surged once more as the next wave of fighters entered the arena. Among them was Sanjay.

As he stepped onto the battlefield, his gaze swept over the scene before him. Blood was everywhere, seeping into the cracks of the metal floor, painting a gruesome picture. He had watched the previous match from the waiting room, but seeing the aftermath up close was an entirely different experience.

A faint unease stirred in his chest, but he pushed it down. Now wasn't the time for hesitation.

His attention shifted to the massive holographic board floating above the arena, where betting odds flashed rapidly.

When he spotted his name, he wasn't surprised—1:50 odds against him.

He let out a quiet chuckle. Of course. To the audience, he was just another nameless fighter, an unaugmented human with no enhancements. No one expected him to last.

Fine by him.

"Iris, place four billion on me," he murmured.

[Confirmed, Host.]

Meanwhile, in the VIP lounge, the wealthiest and most powerful figures in the city watched intently, their eyes scanning the arena for potential bets.

Raghav had been idly observing the fighters when his gaze landed on a familiar figure. His breath hitched.

Was that… Sanjay?

His eyes widened, and he leaned forward, staring at the screen to confirm. There was no mistaking it. It was him.

A rush of confusion and disbelief hit him all at once. Why the hell is Sanjay here?

He turned sharply to Veer, but his older brother was already watching him with a smug smile, as if he had been waiting for this reaction.

Before Raghav could speak, Veer leaned back in his chair and said, "Brother, your fighter looks promising as well."

Raghav clenched his jaw. Something about Veer's tone felt off.

Their father, who had been silently observing their exchange, finally spoke. His voice was calm, but there was a hint of curiosity beneath it.

"Oh? So my younger son has chosen a fighter as well?" He glanced at Raghav, waiting for confirmation. "Which one is it?"

A slow smirk crept across Veer's face. He casually pointed at the screen.

"That one."

Their father's gaze followed the direction of Veer's finger and landed on Sanjay. He studied him for a moment, his expression unreadable.

The man standing in the arena didn't look particularly strong. No cybernetic limbs, no visible augmentations, nothing that set him apart from an average human.

His father frowned and turned to Raghav. "Him?"

Raghav's mind raced. How did Sanjay end up here?

He had no time to process it fully, but he knew one thing—Sanjay was no ordinary fighter.

Mark-3 combat robots had been deployed to capture him, and not only had he survived, but he had also taken them down effortlessly. That wasn't something just anyone could do.

Mark-3s were elite machines, used only by the special forces for transporting the most dangerous criminals. Even a full team of heavily armed officers would struggle to bring one down.

Yet Sanjay had wiped them out as if they were nothing.

Raghav didn't trust Veer. If Sanjay was here, Veer had to be involved. Was this some kind of setup? He needed to figure it out—fast.

Taking a deep breath, he forced a calm smile. "Father, I know him. He's a friend."

His father studied his expression for a long moment before nodding. Without another word, he placed a 500-million bet on Sanjay.

Raghav didn't hesitate. If his father was willing to gamble on Sanjay, then so was he. He increased the bet—one billion.

Veer's smirk faltered. His brows furrowed as he glanced at the board. Did Raghav trust Sanjay that much?

This wasn't how Veer had planned it. He had added Sanjay to the tournament as a joke—to humiliate Raghav in front of their father. He expected his younger brother to panic, to make excuses, to look like a fool.

But instead… Raghav was backing him.

Veer's jaw tightened. Fine, he thought. If Raghav wants to throw money away, let him.

But just to be sure, he had already taken precautions. He had paid off several fighters to eliminate Sanjay in the first round.

Now, all he had to do was sit back and watch the show.

The energy in the stadium reached a fever pitch as the next round was about to begin. The crowd roared, the holograms flickered with new betting odds, and the fighters readied themselves.

The host's voice rang out like a battle cry.

"BEGIN!"

The arena erupted into chaos.

Sanjay stood still, his expression unreadable.

All around him, chaos raged. Fighters clashed in a brutal dance of metal and flesh. Enhanced bodies crashed against each other—cybernetic limbs colliding with reinforced bones, energy-infused weapons slicing through the air. Sparks flew as steel met steel. Blood sprayed, staining the ground in deep crimson. The scent of sweat, smoke, and something burnt—maybe flesh—thickened the air, making it almost suffocating.

He ignored it.

Then, movement.

Three fighters broke away from the madness, their focus locking onto him.

One lunged forward, a sleek sword in hand, moving with precision honed through countless battles. To his left, a towering brute hefted a war hammer high, his augmented muscles straining with the sheer force behind the swing. To his right, another fighter flicked an electric whip, its crackling tip carving black scorch marks into the ground.

Sanjay didn't react.

His combat assistance did.

His body moved before his mind even registered the attacks.

A slight shift, and the sword missed his chest by mere inches, slicing through empty space. At the same moment, his left hand shot up, fingers clamping around the brute's wrist mid-swing. By all logic, the impact should've shattered his bones. But nanites reinforced his body, turning flesh into something far stronger.

A sickening crunch.

The brute's scream tore through the arena as his wrist snapped, his grip failing. The hammer slipped from his grasp. Before it could hit the ground, Sanjay caught it and spun.

The electric whip lashed toward him.

He ducked.

The crackling energy passed just above his head, searing the air where his face had been a second ago.

Still crouched, he surged forward, hammer first. The weapon connected with the whip wielder's ribs in a devastating arc. The man's body lifted off the ground, twisting violently before crashing down with a dull thud. He didn't move again.

A flash of silver.

The swordsman lunged.

Sanjay's hand snapped out, catching the blade mid-thrust. Metal crumpled in his grip as if it were nothing more than soft clay. The attacker's eyes widened in horror.

A flick of his wrist.

The sword was ripped away, reversed, and driven straight into the man's shoulder. Blood gushed as the fighter crumpled to the ground, his screams lost in the roaring crowd.

Then, more movement.

Five new opponents. All enhanced. All rushing him at once—plasma blades gleaming, steel fists clenched, cybernetic strength primed for destruction.

His body reacted before they even reached him.

The hammer swung in a brutal arc. The first fighter's head twisted sharply to the side, a sickening crack splitting the air. He dropped, lifeless.

Before the second could react, Sanjay pivoted. His foot hooked behind the man's ankle, sending him sprawling. As he fell, Sanjay drove a knee into his chest. Ribs caved under the impact. The body hit the ground, unmoving.

A blur of movement.

A blade whistled toward his neck.

Sanjay tilted his head at the last second. Cold steel grazed his skin, the sensation barely registering. Before the attacker could recover, Sanjay's fingers locked around their arm. A sharp twist—snap.

The scream barely left their lips before his fist silenced them.

Two left.

One had fists wrapped in crackling energy. The other wielded twin daggers, moving so fast they blurred.

Sanjay met them head-on.

He weaved left, letting the energy-clad fists strike nothing but air. The dagger wielder's blades slashed in quick succession—too fast for a normal eye to track. But he wasn't normal.

A single step forward. A shift in weight.

His foot shot out, connecting with the attacker's knee. Pop.

A shriek of pain. The man crumpled, clutching his shattered limb.

The last fighter roared, throwing a wild punch.

Sanjay sidestepped.

His hand shot out, gripping the man's head.

A sharp yank downward.

His knee came up.

Crack.

Silence.

Sanjay exhaled, lowering the hammer.

Around him, bodies littered the battlefield. Some groaning. Others unmoving.

The fight was over before it had even truly begun.

Then—footsteps.

More fighters.

He rolled his shoulders, feeling the hum of nanites beneath his skin.

Sanjay reached down, his fingers wrapping around the hilt of a fallen sword. A low hum vibrated through his hand as blue electric arcs crackled along the blade's edge, pulsing with barely contained energy. He tightened his grip, feeling the raw power coursing through the weapon.

A grin tugged at his lips.

Before the incoming fighters could react, he moved.

To them, he vanished. A blur of motion too fast for the human eye to follow.

The moment he reappeared, two heads were already severed from their bodies. They hit the ground before the blood even had time to spray.

The remaining fighters froze. Fear flickered in their eyes. Their stance shifted—not of warriors ready to fight, but prey realizing they had stepped into a predator's den.

Sanjay didn't give them time to process.

He crouched and snatched the electric whip from one of the fallen, its metal coils sparking to life in his grip. With a single flick, the whip lashed forward, wrapping around a fighter's throat. A surge of electricity pulsed through their body. Their screams were swallowed by the crackling energy.

Sanjay yanked hard.

The body hit the ground, convulsing for a moment before going completely still.

Another fighter lunged, wielding a massive battle axe. He swung down with all his strength, the sheer force enough to split a man in two.

But Sanjay wasn't there.

His body reacted before the attack even fully registered. He leaped—higher than any normal human could.

The axe slammed into the ground, cracking the floor beneath it. But Sanjay was already twisting mid-air, flipping over his attacker with fluid precision. As he descended, his sword flashed.

Slice.

A clean cut.

The fighter didn't even realize he was dead until his body split apart.

Sanjay landed lightly, but before his feet fully touched the ground, another enemy was already closing in—this one wielding a plasma dagger, aiming straight for his back.

Without turning, Sanjay moved.

His hand shot out, catching the attacker's wrist mid-strike. A simple squeeze. Bones snapped like twigs. The dagger clattered to the ground. The fighter barely had time to scream before Sanjay drove his knee into their face.

A sickening crunch.

The body crumpled.

Sanjay exhaled slowly, his stance relaxed. Around him, four remained.

They circled him now, more cautious, more aware. The arrogance they had moments ago was gone. Now, they knew the truth—this wasn't a fight. This was an execution.

One charged first, a cybernetic fist aimed straight at his head.

Sanjay ducked, spinning low. His leg swept out, catching the attacker's ankle. The moment their balance faltered, he grabbed their head and slammed it into the ground with brutal force. The impact left a crater where the fighter had been.

Two more rushed together—one wielding a fire-coated staff, the other brandishing twin blades that moved like a blur.

Sanjay met them head-on.

The staff wielder struck first, flames trailing in their wake. But Sanjay was faster. His sword met the staff with a resounding clash, and with a single well-placed kick, he sent the fighter flying. Their body slammed into a nearby wall, slumping upon impact.

The twin-bladed fighter fought with wild, desperate strikes, slashing at him from every angle. But Sanjay weaved through their attacks like smoke, each movement precise, effortless. The moment he saw an opening, he took it.

A single stab.

Straight through the heart.

The fighter gasped, eyes wide, mouth opening to say something—then nothing.

They collapsed.

Now, only one remained.

Their grip on their weapon trembled. Then, they turned to run.

Coward.

Sanjay's legs coiled, nanites surging through his muscles. With one powerful leap, he shot forward like a missile, landing in front of the fleeing fighter in an instant.

Their eyes widened in horror.

Before they could react, Sanjay drove his fist straight through their chest.

The fight was over.

He straightened, exhaling slowly. Around him, the battlefield was littered with bodies. The scent of burnt flesh and blood thickened the air, clinging to his skin.

He looked down at his hands—steady, unshaken. His breath came evenly. Not a single scratch marked his body.

The arena was silent.

Not a whisper. Not a murmur.

Thousands of spectators stood frozen in their seats, their expressions a mix of shock and disbelief. Just minutes ago, the battlefield had been filled with chaos—screams, the clash of weapons, the roar of dying men. Now, it was eerily quiet.

Ninety-nine fighters. All dead.

And the one who stood among the fallen was just a single man.

Inside the VIP room

Raghav's hand trembled as he raised his glass of whiskey, the ice clinking against the sides. His fingers clenched the glass so tightly it was a wonder it hadn't shattered.

Beside him, Veer sat motionless, his mouth slightly open. He had come here eager to mock his brother, to watch him struggle. Now, words failed him.

And then, there was their father—the gatekeeper.

His sharp eyes gleamed with something rare. Admiration.

In his lifetime, he had witnessed countless battles, ones far more gruesome, far bloodier. He had seen men rise and fall, warriors push beyond their limits, legends carve their names into history.

But never—not once—had he seen something like this.

A single man. Ninety-nine corpses.

This wasn't just skill.

This was something beyond human.

Something out of this world.