Marcus

The gym was still abuzz with the reverberations of Kai Dawson's defeat. The air was thick with the smell of sweat and adrenaline, a reminder of the just-concluded battle.

Noah was in the middle of the improvised ring, his breathing settling, his fists still bunched. The onlookers around him were charged—whispers, murmurs, and applause blending into a cacophonous hum.

But his attention wasn't on them.

It was on the man lingering in the background.

The one who had been observing.

Noah's senses yelled at him.

This was no ordinary spectator.

This was a hunter taking his measure.

Then, just as abruptly as he had appeared, the man turned and departed, his shadow disappearing through the doors of the gym.

Noah relaxed, releasing his tension. His heart was still racing, but not from the battle.

Something warned him Kai Dawson hadn't been working alone.

And whatever that man was—he was just getting warmed up.

---

Aftermath

Oliver caught up with Noah outside the gym, his face a cross between excitement and worry.

"Dude, you destroyed Kai. That was crazy!" Oliver exclaimed, slapping Noah on the shoulder. But his smile slipped when he saw Noah's face.

"You don't look happy. What's wrong?"

Noah clenched his jaw. "Did you see him?"

"See who?"

"The man who observed. Older, with the look of a fighter. He applauded before he left."

Oliver scowled. "No, but. now that you mention it, lots of people were staring at you today. Not students only. I caught a few men I'd never seen before sitting at the back."

Noah tightened his fists.

This was not paranoia.

Something was taking place.

And he needed to find out what.

---

A Visit from the Shadow

Noah went home by himself that evening.

Or at least, he believed he was alone.

Halfway down a deserted street, footsteps echoed behind him.

Deliberate. Unhurried.

Noah's body tightened. He continued walking, but his muscles wound like a spring.

Then—

A voice. Deep. Amused.

"You're sharper than I expected."

Noah turned.

A man leaned against a streetlight.

Tall. Muscular. Wearing a dark coat.

The same man from the gym.

Noah didn't say anything. He just waited.

The man smiled. "No need to be so careful. If I wanted you dead, you'd already be on the ground."

Noah's fingers twitched. "Bold of you to think I'd fall so easily."

The man laughed. "Good one. I like you, kid."

Then, his eyes flashed in the light of the streetlamp.

"Tell me, Noah Carter—what do you know about the real Underground Tournament?"

Noah's blood ran cold.

So this was it.

He had finally gotten the attention of something greater.

Something sinister.

The actual game had started.

---

A Predator Among Fighters

The man stepped out, his presence daunting.

Noah's instincts yelled at him—this man is a threat.

"Who are you?" Noah demanded, standing his ground but tense.

The man smiled. "You can call me Marcus."

That name rang no bell in Noah's memory.

But the way he uttered it—expecting it to mean something—alerted Noah that this was no normal fighter.

"Let me guess," Noah said. "You're not here to congratulate me."

Marcus laughed. "Sharp. No, I'm here to warn you."

Noah's eyes narrowed. "Warn me about what?"

Marcus's face clouded over. "You think you're on top now? That that defeat of Ryan Miller and Kai Dawson made you tough?"

Noah remained silent.

Marcus edged closer.

"The real fighters—the real predators—haven't even paid attention to you yet. But Adrian Black has. And that means your time is running out."

Noah's face remained impassive, but in his head, things were whirling.

Adrian once more.

It all seemed to circle back around to him.

Marcus took a deep breath, his eyes on Noah.

"You're balancing on the edge of something you don't comprehend. And when the actual monsters get you, you'll be sorry you remained a nobody."

The air hung between them.

Then—Marcus spun.

"This is the only free advice I'll give you, kid," he said over his shoulder. "Get stronger. Fast. Or don't bother showing up to the next fight."

Then, like a ghost, he was gone.

Noah stood there for a long moment.

The night air was cold, but his blood ran hotter than ever.

This wasn't just about winning anymore.

This was survival.

And if Adrian Black was the storm on the horizon—

Noah was going to take him head-on.

---

System Update: The Hunt Begins

As soon as Noah entered his apartment, his phone vibrated.

A System Notification.

> [System Alert: New Quest Unlocked.]

[Mission: Survive the Predator's Gaze.]

Description: You have been marked. Someone powerful is watching you.

Survive the next seven days without being eliminated.]

Reward:???

Noah's breath hesitated.

The System had never warned him this way before.

"Eliminated."

It wasn't losing.

It was dying.

Tch.

Noah dismissed the notification.

Fine.

If the actual predators were on their way—

Then he'd become something far worse.

---

A Training Like No Other

The next morning, Noah stayed home from school.

He visited Xander instead.

The older fighter was there in an abandoned warehouse, arms folded.

"So," Xander said, his eyes piercing. "You figured it out, then?"

Noah didn't hesitate. "I need to get stronger. Quickly."

Xander grinned. "Good. Because from this point forward—your training will not be about becoming stronger."

Noah frowned. "What do you mean?"

Xander cracked his knuckles.

"It's learning to kill."

Noah froze.

Xander's eyes sparkled.

"You're not fighting high school kids anymore, Noah. You're fighting professionals who kill for a living."

The words cut deeper than any punch.

Noah drew a slow breath.

Then he looked at Xander with steel in his eyes.

"Then teach me."

Xander grinned. "You asked for it."

And so—

The true training began.

---