Chapter Five

Elion had no idea how he ended up here.

Less than an hour ago, he'd been playing street soccer, buying groceries, and, oh yeah, surviving a street fight.

But now?

Now, he was in a club, Xylo Club.

Not just any club. This place was overwhelming—the bright neon lights, loud music that shook his body, and a crowd of people who seemed to have never heard of responsibility or waking up early.

The air smelled like sweat, expensive drinks, and disappointment.

Meanwhile, Elion?

He was sitting in a corner booth, sipping orange juice and still holding a grocery bag like some kind of lost time traveler.

The weirdest part? No one else seemed to think this was weird, and to be honest, nobody cared.

Raymond and the red team were dancing wildly on the floor, moving like tonight was the last night they had. People could mistake the shaking of the ground for an earthquake here. Still, nobody cares. Everyone was filled with energy.

Across from him, Jordan smiled broadly or more like an idiot, enjoying his cola as if it were the best drink ever.

"What the heck, dude? Who orders orange juice here?" Jordan said as he laughed and shook his head.

"Why? They have it here." Elion said, then glanced at Jordan's glass. "And you… aren't you the 'live a little' guy? How come you're drinking cola?"

"You got me," Jordan smirked, taking another sip. "Because I never drink alcohol."

Elion blinked. "Huh?"

"Never have, never will. Gotta stay sharp." Jordan shrugged and looked more serious as he leaned back in his chair. "Who knows what else could happen tonight?"

That comment made Elion pause. What else might happen tonight?

He glanced around the club, taking in the chaotic energy of the place. The flashing lights. The moving bodies. The sheer insanity of how his life had flipped upside down in the span of a single evening.

For the longest time, his life had been a predictable loop.

Wake up. Work. Study. More work. More stress.

Repeat until emotionally numb.

A never-ending cycle of responsibility, like a hamster wheel but with less fur and more existential dread.

But now?

Tonight had been... different.

He had played the one true love of his life—football (not that he had ever been in a romantic relationship, but hey, priorities). He had gotten into a full-blown street fight.

He had kicked a metal rod straight into some guy's head (which, okay, not exactly his finest moment, but also, come on, that was some elite-level aim).

For the first time in forever, his life didn't feel like a routine.

It felt like chaos.

And oddly enough?

He kind of liked it.

And somehow, it all felt… different.

Elion did not take it negatively. For the first time after so many years, he felt that his life was no longer dull.

It was chaotic. Unpredictable. Maybe even dangerous.

But it was alive.

Elion stirred the juice in his glass and watched the ice cubes knock against each other. Now, he was replaying Jordan's words.

What else?

What else was waiting for him tonight?

Could his life actually be turning into something better? Or was this just the beginning of something much bigger?

Elion had no idea.

But one thing was certain—he was about to find out.

Elion was lost in thought, looking at nothing in particular. Then Jordan spoke, breaking the silence.

"What's on your mind?"

Elion blinked and smiled while leaning back in his seat.

"You know how dull my life has been all this time? It has always been about studying, working part-time, and getting by. But tonight…" He took a deep breath and looked around the club, where the neon lights reflected off his glass of orange juice. "It just feels so much better."

Jordan grinned, swirling the ice in his cola. "That's why I keep telling you, man. Enjoy your life. We're twenty. We should be out doing stuff like this."

Elion smirked. "Stuff like this…" He rolled the words around in his head. Then, as if someone had flipped a switch in his brain, something clicked.

His eyes sharpened. He leaned forward, lowering his voice. "Speaking of which… explain this. How did you fight those guys like some kung-fu master?"

Jordan's expression shifted. Well, he could not leave his usual grin, but it looked and felt different now. Before explaining, he took another sip of his cola.

"The truth is... I'm not sure," he said seriously. "You already know that after high school, I worked at my parents' company for a while. After a few months, I saved enough money to travel the world." 

Elion nodded. He knew all that except the part about traveling the world because they had a time when they lost contact for more than a year.

Elion waited for Jordan to keep talking.

Jordan lightly tapped his glass, looking like he was thinking about how much to share. "Well… some parts of this world are rough, Elion. Too rough. And unlucky me? I ended up in one of them."

"Where?"

"Arang."

Elion felt his stomach twisted. Everyone knew about Arang. It was a country famous for its crime rate, gangs, and corruption. A place that tourists normally avoid. But, talking about normal to Jordan… sounds impossible.

"You went to Arang?" Elion expressed his disbelief. "Why would you go there?"

Jordan grinned, but his smile was different this time. It was smaller and more thoughtful. "Well, that was the cheapest I can afford and... guess what? That's where I found out I could fight."

Elion stared at him. "Fight?"

Jordan chuckled, swirling the ice in his drink like he had all the time in the world. "Yeah, I almost died that day. Some guys decided to rob me. Probably thought I looked too good to be broke." He smirked at his own joke.

Elion just stared. He never knew how to respond to this particular brand of Jordan humor—the kind where near-death experiences got filed under mild inconvenience.

Jordan leaned back, his expression turning more serious. "But something weird happened at that moment. I don't know how to explain it, but… something inside me just shifted. Like, a switch flipped."

Elion frowned. "Shifted how?"

Jordan took a sip of his cola, eyes distant. "That's the thing. I have no idea."

Elion leaned in, intrigued now.

Jordan spoke quietly but firmly. "I can't explain it well. It felt like my body moved on its own before I even thought about it. Instinct maybe. But it was too good, Elion. Too good. Like I'd been training my whole life without realizing it."

Elion frowned. "So what did you do?"

Jordan let out a small laugh. "I kicked their asses."

Elion blinked. Hard. "You fought them?!"

Jordan chuckled. "What do you think I was supposed to do at that time? Let them take my stuff?"

Elion opened his mouth but then closed it again. He wasn't sure how to respond to that. The worst could happen at Arang.

They could kill Jordan before taking his things. But he believed Jordan never thought about this, and if he did, that was the reason he fought.

Jordan stretched his arms as if this entire story wasn't completely insane. "After that, I figured if I had a natural talent for it, I might as well get better at it. So I went to Thailand for half a year."

"Thailand?" Elion's eyes widened slightly.

Thailand is one of the countries known for its martial arts. Many of the best fighters in the world train here. People trained there for years to master even the basics.

"And you just… went?" Elion asked.

Jordan chuckled. "Why not? I believe that if I was gonna fight, I need to learn from the best."

Elion could not believe what he heard. This was insane.

This guy, whom he had known since high school—the one who used to skip morning practice because he was too lazy to get up—had spent six months training in one of the toughest martial arts countries in the world.

Jordan saw the disbelief in Elion's eyes and laughed loudly. "Yeah. I know. It's crazy, right?"

Elion didn't even know what to say. Crazy didn't even begin to cover it. And something told him Jordan's story wasn't over yet.

True to Elion's gut feeling, the next thing Jordan said was even wilder than expected.

Jordan leaned forward with a big grin. Again. Like an idiot. "You know what? That was when I decided what I wanted to do with my life."

"Oh yeah? And what's that?"

Jordan's grin turned sharp, his eyes glinting with something Elion rarely saw in him—pure determination.

"I'm gonna compete in the city's qualification for the Ring of Tarung."

Elion's brain stopped functioning for a full three seconds.

"The… what now?"

Jordan chuckled. "The Ring of Tarung. You know... It's kinda like MMA but with its own twist. More brutal. Less rules. But more money."

Elion looked at him in shock. "Dude... I know that. But, are you being serious?"

Jordan nodded. Multiple times. "Dead serious."

He then added, "They're holding the Neiva City qualifications next month. I'm gonna get in, climb the ranks, win the New Orleans Tarung—then move up to the state and then national, and finally…"

Elion already knew where this was going, but Jordan said it anyway—his voice brimming with excitement.

"The Grand Tarung."

Elion leaned back, fully processing the insanity of what Jordan had just declared.

Jordan wasn't just planning to join some underground fight league. He was mapping out his path to the very top.

"You're serious," Elion repeated, just to make sure reality hadn't glitched.

Jordan smirked. "What, you think I'd train in Thailand for nothing? I'm gonna make my way from the bottom up. That's way cooler than just jumping in halfway."

Elion ran a hand through his hair. "This isn't some video game where you just 'grind your way to the top.' This is real. People get hurt. You get hurt."

Jordan shrugged, completely unfazed. "I know. That's the fun part."

Elion wanted to argue, to remind Jordan that normal people don't just wake up and decide to fight their way to world championship status. But then he looked at him—really looked at him.

Jordan was serious.

He spoke with excitement, and his eyes showed that he was really looking forward to his plans. This was not just a random dream for him.

Jordan wanted to conquer the world.

Before Elion could respond, Jordan leaned in with a grin and nudged him playfully. "I will win the world title before I turn twenty-five."

Elion shook his head and laughed softly. "That's… awesome." He really meant it.

Jordan smiled and took a napkin from the table. He wrote something on it with a pen—a thing that was almost impossible for him to carry around—from his pocket.

"Here." He slid the napkin over to Elion with a wink. "Keep my autograph now. It'll soar in price later."

Elion laughed out loud, shaking his head a few times. "Unbelievable."

But as crazy as it seemed, Elion trusted him.

Elion stared at the napkin in front of him, Jordan's messy signature scrawled across it like a future stock investment. It was stupid. It was ridiculous.

And yet… Jordan had a plan. 

A crazy, over-the-top, full-send plan to take over the world of fighting. And the wildest part? He believed in it—every single word.

Meanwhile, Elion had nothing.

For the first time in a long time, he understood something important. He had always tried to do what was right. He worked hard in school, had a part-time job, and helped with money at home.

But for what? 

What was his actual goal?

What did he want?

He studied Computer Science with a major in Artificial Intelligence. It seemed impressive on paper. He even aced all of the subjects. But was it his dream? Was it something that made him feel alive the way Jordan's goal did for him?

Elion didn't know. He had never really thought about it. He had just followed the path that made sense—the safe one.

Work hard. Graduate. Get a good job. Make money. Repeat until retirement.

That was what people expected him to do. He had convinced himself that this was what he wanted.

But now, sitting in a club with a grocery bag in one hand and an orange juice in the other, Elion watched his best friend talk about taking over the world. He realized something very clear—he had never planned his life.

He had never stopped to ask himself, 'What do I actually want?'

And for the first time, it bothered him.

Watching Jordan—seeing someone so sure, so fired up about what they wanted—made Elion feel like he had been standing still for years while everyone else had already started running.

His entire life had been about surviving. But was that really enough? Was that all he wanted?

Elion was still deep in thought, drowning in questions about his future, when the first scream ripped through the club. 

"AAAAAH!"

Then another. 

"RUN!"

Then, a whole chorus of them.

"What's happening?!" Elion asked as he looked around.

Something was not right. His night was going to get crazier.