Book 1: Chapter 33 – Thank You

On the 93rd platform, every step Jabari took was met with an immediate response from the two beside him. They pushed themselves forward, refusing to fall behind. Their eyes remained fixed on him, as if blinking for even a moment would cause him to disappear beyond their reach.

When Jabari ascended onto the 94th step, they followed, barely a breath behind. But by the time they steadied themselves against the crushing weight of the new platform, Jabari had already taken another step forward. Instinctively, they forced themselves to move again, unwilling to let him widen the gap.

'Does he even know we're here?!' thought the boy who had originally ranked near the middle of the first-years. His gaze shifted to the side of Jabari's head, searching for any sign of acknowledgement.

It was only then that realisation struck – while he and his fellow classmate had seen Jabari as their direct rival, Jabari had never once spared them a glance.

A furious roar suddenly tore through the air.

Snapping his head to the side, the mid-ranked youth watched as his former competitor, the first-ranked first-year, let out a desperate cry. He fought against the fatigue clawing at his body, pushing himself recklessly to match Jabari's pace – only for his legs to buckle beneath him.

With a final gasp, he collapsed.

The mid-ranked youth barely had time to process what had happened before he felt his own consciousness wavering. His body screamed for rest, his limbs trembling under the unbearable pressure.

He looked at Jabari, who continued forward, completely unbothered, then at his fallen rival lying motionless on the ground.

A wry smile touched his lips. 'From the beginning, he had never put us in his eyes at all.'

As he watched Jabari disappear further ahead, never once turning back, the truth finally settled within him. Even his former rival's deafening roar hadn't been enough to make Jabari acknowledge their presence.

And then, clarity struck. 'I wasn't here to compete with anyone but myself.'

A grateful smile spread across his face. With newfound resolve, he took another step forward, completely ignoring his unconscious rival.

"That idiot Tomi let himself get swept up in Jabari's flow, but Jide…" Jason observed, eyes fixed on the 94th platform. "He was smart enough to correct his mistake before it was too late."

Beside him, Kwame grinned from ear to ear.

"Stop smiling like that," Jason muttered. "It's freaking me out,"

Kwame only grinned wider. "How can I not smile? First and second place are both going to be held by former slum residents. You know how rare that is?" His voice brimmed with excitement.

Jason rolled his eyes. "Jide reached the 69th step last year, and this year, he's constantly proven his willpower to everyone. He has worked twice as hard as his classmates and climbed from one of the weakest to the middle ranks. His reaching this height is impressive but not surprising."

His gaze returned to Jabari, who was still moving forward, undeterred.

"But Jabari…

Just what could he have gone through to have such unshakable willpower?"

…

Back at the arena, Heba let out a triumphant laugh, turning to face the gamblers who had dared to bet against her.

"Well, well, well," she drawled, smirking. "I guess this means I win."

Her voice snapped them out of their stunned silence. The expressions of those who had placed bets darkened, their faces twisting with frustration. But Heba either didn't notice – or simply didn't care.

"I don't care what you say," one of the men sneered, his pride boiling over. "I refuse to pay some random slum bit-"

Schlink.

His words died in his throat as the cold edge of Lateef's blade pressed against his neck.

The entire section of the arena froze.

The speed at which Lateef had moved was terrifying – so fast that most hadn't even registered it until it was too late.

A voice from the crowd broke the silence.

"You…

Are you a Beast-Warrior?"

The question came from a man sitting just a row behind Lateef. Despite his proximity, he hadn't been able to track the movement at all.

"Only a Beast-Warrior is capable of moving at that speed," another acknowledged, still in shock.

Though there were several Beast-Warriors present, they all sat at the front due to their esteemed status. Heba and her group, on the other hand, were seated among the commoners.

And yet, the man with the blade at his throat realised in that moment – status meant nothing when death was a breath away.

Heba smiled sweetly as if nothing was amiss. "So," she asked, voice calm and unbothered, "who wants to pay first?"

Many of the gamblers remained reluctant, but with Lateef's blade still gleaming and his expression as cold as ice, none dared to resist. They had no one to blame but themselves – they had made the bets willingly, after all.

One by one, they stepped forward, begrudgingly handing over their losses.

"Only you left," Heba said indifferently, turning her gaze toward a dark-skinned, obese man. His bald head gleamed under the sun, reflecting the light so perfectly it was almost blinding. Unlike the others, he wasn't scowling or flustered. Instead, he met Heba's stare with a calm, knowing smile.

"You're definitely not a common slum resident if you have a Beast-Warrior as a guard," the man mused. "Who are you really?"

"Why's that any of your concern?" Heba replied flatly.

The man chuckled, raising his hands in a show of harmless curiosity. "No need to be so defensive. My name is Lex, and I'm simply curious. But if you'd rather not answer, that's fine." His smile widened. "Actually, I have a proposition. If you waive my bet, the Twilight Consortium would be most appreciative."

Heba tilted her head, her expression unreadable. "And what does the Consortium's appreciation have to do with me?"

A flicker of irritation passed through Lex's eyes, though he quickly masked it with another forced smile. "It's better to make friends than enemies in life," he said through gritted teeth.

"That's true..." Heba mused, her tone thoughtful.

Hearing this, the onlookers assumed she was about to back down. After all, while most organisations feared Beast-Warriors, the Twilight Consortium was no ordinary group. As the largest trading company in Ulo, with connections including the major tribes, they were a force few dared to offend. No one would blame Heba for compromising.

And yet, her next words nearly made everyone fall from their seats.

"So how about you pay me, and we can be friends?"

Lex's smile instantly vanished. His mouth opened in rage, but before he could utter a word-

Schlink.

A sharp, stinging pain flared against his throat.

He stiffened. His eyes darted downward.

Lateef's blade, no longer just pressing against his neck, had drawn blood.

The world around him blurred, but one thing was painfully clear – he was a single breath away from death.

"I suggest you pay what you owe me," Heba said, her voice calm, almost bored.

Lex's fury burned hot, but his fear burned hotter. As an employee of the Twilight Consortium, he was accustomed to people grovelling for his favour, bending over backwards to earn his goodwill. Never in his life had he found himself in this position – so close to the abyss.

Swallowing his pride, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a single gold coin identical to the one Heba had used earlier. "This is all I have on me," he muttered, his voice tense. "You'll have to wait for me to get change."

"Not necessary," Heba said, shaking her head. "The gold coin will suffice."

Lex's nostrils flared. "I only bet 50 silvers," he protested, momentarily forgetting the blade at his throat.

"Think of it as compensation for the emotional distress of being threatened by the Twilight Consortium," Heba said sweetly.

There was no fear in her voice, no hesitation – just pure, shameless extortion.

The crowd nearly gasped. This wasn't just collecting a debt – this was daylight robbery!

Lex's entire body tensed as the blade inched forward. With a final scowl, he shoved the gold coin into Lateef's hand before storming off, humiliated and fuming.

"Pleasure doing business," Heba called after him, tucking the coin away with a cheerful laugh.

"I'm sorry…" Inayah said quietly, guilt evident in her eyes. "This all started because—"

"I did this because I wanted to," Heba interrupted before Inayah could finish. "No need to feel guilty." Then, with a teasing grin, she added, "Besides, now your brother has a little pocket money for when he enters the Institute."

Inayah's eyes widened. "Wait…

This is for Jari?"

"He'll need it," Heba replied. "The Institute's resources aren't cheap. If he wants to stay ahead of his peers, he'll need every bit of support he can get."

Tears welled up in Inayah's eyes. "Thank you…

Thank you so, so much!"

"Don't cry," Heba said, gently wiping away the tears before smirking. "If that overprotective brother of yours sees you like this, he'll think I bullied you."

…

On the 94th platform of Hell's Stairway, Jabari stood at the very edge, his gaze locked onto the 95th step towering above him.

He inhaled deeply, steeling himself, and attempted to take that next step – only for an invisible force to slam into his mind like a hammer. His foot barely lifted before the overwhelming pressure sent him staggering back.

A wave of dizziness threatened to consume him, but he clenched his fists and shook his head, forcing the grogginess away. His eyes snapped back to the illusory figure of Oluwa smirking down at him, his mocking expression burning into Jabari's soul.

A deep, guttural roar tore from Jabari's throat. Fuelled by raw fury, he surged forward, his foot slamming onto the 95th platform.

The pressure doubled again, pressing down on him like an unrelenting storm, but the fire in his chest only burned hotter. He refused to fall. He would not be stopped.

One step. Then another. Each movement heavier than the last, each breath like fire in his lungs. But his eyes never wavered. He marched forward, unwavering.

By now, nearly everyone else had collapsed under the crushing weight of the stairway.

Only one remained standing.

August.

He had just reached the 91st step, his entire body swaying as he fought to stay conscious. Every muscle screamed for relief; every inch of his being begged him to stop, but then, he heard it.

Jabari's roar.

His unfocused eyes lifted, and there, in the distance, he saw him – Jabari's back, solid and unyielding, standing firmly on the 95th step.

Something about it felt…

It felt larger than life.

August blinked. 'When did he even pass me?'

August's thoughts were fuelled purely by curiosity – there was no jealousy, no bitterness. If anything, he felt more inspired than anything else.

The exhaustion clawing at him became nothing more than background noise as he straightened his spine, gritting his teeth. One foot forward. Then another. His focus locked solely onto Jabari's back as though drawing strength from it.

The edge of the 91st platform loomed before him.

August inhaled sharply, steeled himself, and pushed forward.

The moment his foot lifted, an unbearable force slammed into him. His vision blurred, his body buckled, and before he could fully step onto the 92nd platform, the sheer weight sent him crashing back down.

Gasping, he tried again.

Again, the pressure knocked him back.

His chest heaved. His body trembled.

Then, his gaze lifted once more.

Even from where he stood, he could see it – Jabari's body wobbling under the strain. He was struggling. He was in pain. And yet, he never stopped moving forward.

Jabari was walking away from him. And yet, his back…

It only seemed to grow bigger.

A surge of defiance erupted within August.

His eyes snapped back to the step that had denied him.

With a roar that tore through the suffocating air, he threw himself forward, muscles screaming, mind splitting under the pressure-

But finally, his foot landed on the 92nd step.

His knees nearly buckled. It took him ten whole seconds just to stabilise himself, but he did it. He had surpassed his limit.

A weak, exhausted smile tugged at his lips.

"Thank you…" he muttered sincerely – just before consciousness finally slipped away.