A bond forged in silence

The night wind brushed against the dojo walls, carrying with it the distant echoes of the city. Niran returned, his body still marked by the battle with the mutated beast. The dried blood on his arms was a reminder of how close he had come to death. Yet, at that moment, his focus wasn't on himself but on the small creature clinging to his shoulder.

A mutated monkey, still a baby. Its gaze was sharp, observant, almost too intelligent for an animal.

Sakchai watched with his usual half-amused, half-cynical smile.

"You're a strange one, boy. You just killed its mother, and now you want to raise it?"

Niran sat on the dojo floor, letting the monkey cautiously move beside him. It wasn't afraid. It was studying him.

"I haven't decided what to do with it yet."

"Nonsense. You've already decided, you just don't want to admit it. But tell me, do you think it will be a burden or a resource?"

Niran stayed silent. The monkey, in the meantime, climbed onto him, touching his face with a tiny hand. There was something different about it. It wasn't just an animal.

"Kao*¹."

"Hmm?"

"I'll call it Kao."

Sakchai chuckled. "A name with meaning. Are you sure you're not getting attached already?"

Niran ignored him. If Kao survived, it meant he was worthy of staying by his side.

For a while, the small creature simply stared at him. His golden eyes, unusually sharp for an animal, seemed to search for something, hesitation, rejection, perhaps even cruelty. But Niran only looked back, his expression unreadable.

Kao took a hesitant step forward, then another. His tiny hands trembled as he reached out, grasping the edge of Niran's sleeve. Niran didn't move. Kao let out a soft, breathy sound, something between a sigh and a quiet chitter. It wasn't the desperate crying from before, it was something else.

Acceptance.

Without another sound, Kao climbed onto his arm, curling against his side. He was warm, smaller than Niran's forearm, but Niran could feel the faint tremor in his body. Exhaustion. Hunger.

Niran exhaled through his nose. He's just a baby.

Slowly, almost mechanically, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small piece of dried meat. He held it out, watching as Kao's nose twitched. He hesitated, then snatched it with a speed that made Niran raise an eyebrow.

He ate in small, quick bites, glancing up at Niran between chews. As if he expected him to take it back.

Niran smirked slightly. He learns fast.

By the time he finished, Kao had tucked himself against Niran's chest, his tiny fingers gripping his shirt. Niran could feel his heartbeat, quick but steady. For the first time, he seemed truly calm.

He sighed, shifting so Kao could rest more comfortably.

"Looks like you made your choice," he muttered.

Kao didn't answer, of course. But as he nestled deeper into the warmth of Niran's body, he could tell, he wasn't letting go.

The next day, as he watched Kao trying to steal his food with surprising dexterity, Niran realized a more urgent problem.

The dojo was empty. No income. No security. Just training and hunger.

He needed money.

He quickly discarded the obvious options. Stealing? Too risky, too much effort for uncertain gains. A regular job? He didn't have time to be a laborer or a dishwasher.

No. There was only one fast way to earn. Fighting.

There were plenty of rumors about underground fights. You just needed to know where to look.

That's how he found Suda.

The place was a half-underground dive, flickering neon lights casting uneven shadows, thick with the smell of sweat and alcohol. Niran walked in without hesitation.

Behind the counter, a woman watched him with the eyes of a predator who had grown tired of the hunt. Her skin bore the marks of past battles, her body sculpted by years of fighting, and she had the air of someone who had seen too many men fall.

"What do you want, kid?"

"I want to fight."

Suda burst into laughter. "Listen, there are places for people who want to play warrior. Here, you fight to survive, not to look cool."

Niran didn't move. "I'm not playing. I need money."

Suda studied him for a moment, then nodded. "Fine. Show me what you can do."

It was quick.

A sudden punch from a massive man, Niran's guard absorbing it perfectly. A swift counterattack, a precise strike to the throat. The giant doubled over, gasping for air.

Suda gave a slight nod. "Not bad. But I hope you're ready to die."

"Just tell me when it starts."

The underground arena was dense with heat, the air thick and heavy. Around him, makeshift stands filled with spectators eager to bet on who would die first.

Suda walked him to the fighting circle.

"If you survive Raksa, then maybe you're worth something."

Raksa was massive. Two meters of raw muscle and fury, his scars telling his story better than any words could. His nickname wasn't an exaggeration, he looked like a bear, his body barely human.

Niran took a slow breath. He wasn't afraid, but underestimating him would be a mistake.

Sakchai's voice echoed in his mind. "Observe him. His muscles, his stance. How fast is he? How tough? A colossus like him has weaknesses, but you need to find them fast."

The crowd roared. The announcer called out their names.

The gong sounded.