The Combat Arena (4)
Present time…
'Ryan's mind was still reeling from the emotional rollercoaster of last night.
However, fate, as always, had other plans.
The bitch didn't want to just kick him while he was down, no—she wasn't satisfied with that. She was determined to bend him over and fuck him in the ass—raw.
"Ryan Reidus, Giuseppe Castellano. Step forward!" Mavena's clear voice entered his ears.
Ryan looked over at Giuseppe whose eyes were scanning the class, muttering something along the lines of, "Who the fuck is that?"
Then their gazes met. Just for a second. And Giuseppe knew. Just from the fear in his eyes, he had found his opponent.
But something seemed off.
It was like staring into the eyes of a blind man, you may be looking directly at each other. But you can tell that he isn't seeing you.
And Giuseppe's exceptional perception didn't fail him. He was correct, that fear didn't entirely come from him—in Ryan's vision, he saw his system screen appear, and what it said was enough to make a pope turn Satanist.
{Ding! Mission Acquired!}
- Mission Details -
- Objective: Defeat Giuseppe Castellano in an official duel.
-Reward: ???
-Penalty: Death / Permanent loss of the system / ???
***
Before he realised it, 'Ryan' found himself already standing directly in the middle of the large arena.
His heartbeat felt like a war drum thudding repeatedly in his chest.
His mind was so clouded that he couldn't even register the Simulation Core changing the surroundings.
'I'm fucked.'
The thought hit Ryan like a stone monolith.
He had read the novel, he knew exactly what kind of person Giuseppe Castellano was. The kind that had no patience for cowards, no mercy for the weak, and no hesitation when it came to violence.
The look in his eyes now. That quiet, deadly glare.
It was all the confirmation Ryan needed.
And he wasn't deluded enough to believe that transmigrating into Ryan Reidus's body, of all people, had somehow bestowed him with a remarkable fighting spirit.
No. His soul was just as spineless as it had always been.
He wasn't a fighter. He knew that all too well.
But the mission didn't care. To fulfil the conditions, one thing was clear.
He had to make it an official duel.
'And to do that…'
The mere thought made him shiver.
Mavena, mercifully, seemed to be stalling the signal. Giuseppe also knew that, which only seemed to make him more annoyed.
'A grace period, for me?'
He wasn't sure if it was luck or pity, but at this moment, he didn't care. He used it.
{Status}
-Name: Giuseppe Castellano
-Age: 16
-Species: [Human (Type 8)]
-Class: [None]
-Title: [None]
-Statistics: [Click to Expand]
-Traits: [Sage's Divine Instinct(???)(1%)], [Battle Spirit Eyes(EX)(25%)]
{Skills: None}
Ryan wanted to cry. Or scream. Or flip off the heavens. Maybe all of those things. In that order.
But he knew he didn't have the luxury. So, instead, he just swallowed the lump in his throat.
Like he always did.
And then, as if possessed by some suicidal part of his subconsciousness, the words uncertainly tumbled from his lips before he could stop them—
"Hey, Castellano! Let's make this an official duel?"
Ryan felt like his body didn't belong to him.
The silence afterwards was deafening.
Even Mavena stared at him as if he were mentally challenged.
Marcus blinked. "Is he insane?"
He muttered, his voice tinged with something almost like admiration.
"No, like actually. Did he smoke his last brain cell before breakfast?"
Tandav and Daniel simply remained frozen, they couldn't believe their eyes.
"Hahaha! This is actually peak entertainment!"
Arthur laughed, eating popcorn. From where? Who knows.
***
Marlow raised his brows so high they looked like they would fly off his head.
"Goodness. To think that today of all days would be filled with so many fools with a death wish. I know it hasn't happened a lot, but it's still weird that it happened twice."
He turned his head as he heard the sound of footsteps behind him, and he saw Reddick walking towards him while dusting his hands.
"Finished already?"
Reddick nodded with a grunt.
"The girl's off to the morgue. Did I miss anything interesting?"
Marlow nodded with a small smile. Reddick followed his gaze to the arena.
"No..."
"Yes."
"No."
"Yes!"
"Fuck off! I'm not cleaning that one up as well!"
***
'This didn't happen in the first cycle. What is going on?' Evelynne's brows furrowed ever so slightly.
She sat silently near the back of the spectator area, legs crossed, chin resting against the back of her knuckles as her eyes scanned the scene before her.
The duel hadn't even officially begun, and yet the flow of events had already diverged from what she knew to be true.
In the first cycle, Ryan Reidus had never spoken. Never challenged Giuseppe. He had been paralysed by fear, barely able to stand upright, let alone initiate anything remotely resembling a duel.
He had even fainted as soon as Mavena gave the signal to begin.
'I remember that clear as day… I was his next opponent. Giuseppe took out all his frustrations from that match on me.' A small shiver ran down her spine at the memory, one that was not entirely unpleasant.
And yet, now, he had spoken. Aloud. To Giuseppe Castellano, of all people. There was hesitation in his voice, sure—but he had still done it.
This wasn't simply out of character. This was a complete deviation.
'Hmm...'
Her thoughts spun, trying to find a thread, a reason, something to explain the anomaly. But no answer came. Not yet.
Still, she filed the moment away, locking it deep within the meticulously catalogued shelves of her Mind Palace.
***
Due to his overactive mind, Ryan didn't notice the small screen that appeared for a brief moment in his vision.
[Skill: "Assimilation Duel" activated]
Beads of sweat trickled down Ryan's face. He braced for anything—laughter, mockery, an insult. Maybe even a spontaneous attack.
Despite reading the novel, he couldn't predict how Giuseppe would react.
Actually, it was because he had read the novel that he couldn't predict how he would react.
He was just that chaotic of a main character.
'Ryan' tried to search his face for a reaction. But Giuseppe didn't laugh. He didn't speak. He didn't attack. He didn't even look the slightest bit angry.
He just stared.
And that was worse. Much, much worse.
'This…This is the worst-case scenario...' Fear gripped him as his chest tightened.
'Ryan' watched as his opponent wordlessly tapped a button on his Connector, and at the moment—
[Challenge Accepted.]
A smooth mechanical chime came from both of their connectors.
'Ryan's heart clenched.
There was no reason for Giuseppe to agree. Nothing to gain. But that was the problem.
He wasn't someone who needed a reason.
'Ryan' saw Giuseppe silently walk towards him. His face was partially unseen, covered by the shadow of his bucket hat.
His mind moved for an answer.
'How can I win? He outclasses me in every aspect…' And so, he turned to the only thing that might be able to help him.
His cheat, his golden finger, his system.
{Would you like to open the beginner package, host?}
'WHY THE FUCK DID YOU WAIT TILL NOW TO ASK ME THAT?!' He internally screams—before recomposing himself. He mentally ag—
BAM!
A thunderous impact exploded across his jaw.
POW!
Followed by an absurdly powerful punch to his ear.
Ryan's vision cracked. His head snapped sideways.
His brain felt like it had just been detonated inside his skull.
He stumbled back, staggering like a ragdoll.
Giuseppe simply stared at Ryan's swaying figure, silently.
Before he could recover—
SWEEP
Giuseppe's leg slipped behind his. Followed by a rough shove.
CRASH
Ryan hit the floor. Hard.
The arena spun above him. His mouth tasted like iron.
What followed was silence.
Arthur, Tandav and Daniel stood frozen in their seats, eyes wide with disbelief.
They had never seen Giuseppe like this.
No wild shouting, no freaky jokes, no manic laughter.
The usual hot-blooded maniacal sociopath was nowhere to be seen.
Giuseppe's face looked… calm, almost serene—but the look in his eyes burned with something else.
A rage so quiet it felt ancient.
They watched as Giuseppe straddled Ryan's limp body, fists crashing down with mechanical rhythm—each blow heavier than the last. He continuously rammed into Ryan's skull, smashing his head on the ground.
SMASH
CRUNCH
CRACK
Even when his opponent's skull began to cave in, flesh giving way to fragments of bone and blood-soaked brain matter, he continued. Ryan's body jerked with every impact, but he was long past resistance.
POW! POW!
POW! POW!
POW!
Marcus watched silently with his arms crossed, he was one of the few people who had seen him like this before.
***
Five years ago…
Marcus moved through the dim, labyrinthine alleyways of South-West Selinith, the narrow streets twisting like veins beneath the skin of the ancient city.
The flickering streetlights above did little to cut through the gloomy streets, with crumbling brick walls and weathered cobblestones slick with moisture.
'Ugh, good lord… why is Casteloro Italia so damn hard to navigate?' he grumbled inwardly, frustration mounting with every wrong turn.
The unfamiliar streets wrapped around him like a maze, and his patience was wearing thin.
Then, suddenly—
POW!
POW!
POW!
The distinctive sound of flesh meeting flesh cracked through the night's silence like thunder, followed by quick, sharp grunts.
Marcus froze.
'Ayo? Are people really goin' at it? Right now? In these dirty ass streets?! Have some goddamn decency! At least get a hotel room or something!'
His eyes snapped robotically toward a side street cloaked in even deeper darkness. The noise echoed again, closer this time.
Faint shapes flickered in the dark.
He saw a young boy, no older than 11.
His long, messy black hair clung to his face in the damp night air, obscuring part of his expression, but not the cold intensity burning in his obsidian eyes—so dark that they seemed to swallow the very light around them.
He wore a simple black and red tracksuit, dirt-streaked and slightly torn, hanging loosely off a frame so thin he looked like he hadn't lifted a weight in his life.
But that couldn't be possible.
Because right now, that same scrawny kid was facing down five grown men—burly, scarred, muscle-bound thugs with arms like tree trunks and faces carved from a lifetime of street violence.
And he wasn't just winning—he was absolutely butchering them.
One man lunged at him with a pipe raised high. And with a blur of motion, the boy sidestepped like smoke and slammed his palm into the man's jaw.
A sickening crack echoed through the alley as the man flew back three meters and slammed into a dumpster, out cold.
Another charged from behind—the kid didn't even look.
With ruthless precision, the boy twisted, grabbed the man's wrist mid-swing, and snapped it backwards like it was made of twigs.
The thug screamed, but it was cut short by a spinning back-kick to the throat that dropped him like a stone.
The others hesitated, but only for a moment.
'Bad choice.'
Marcus watched as the kid closed the distance between them, moving like a phantom. One caught a fist to the solar plexus so hard he vomited blood.
The other had his knee shattered with a sideways stomp, falling to the ground screaming. But he was silenced by a bite that tore his throat out.
The boy fought like a wild animal, guided solely by his instincts and emotions.
Marcus stood frozen, watching in stunned silence.
Throughout the fight, the boy didn't say a word.
Not a grunt, not a taunt, not a breath wasted. Just nothing. His face stayed blank, as if he were watching a movie play out in front of him, detached in the spectator seats.
'This is unreal…'
Marcus could only stare as the last of the men tried to run.
Tried.
The boy vanished from sight for half a second—just a blur—and reappeared right in front of the runner, grabbing him by the throat and slamming him against the alley wall with enough force to leave a crack in the brick.
Five men. All down. In under a minute.
Marcus blinked. His heart thudded in his chest.
'Who the hell is this kid?'
Then, just like that, a switch seemed to flip in the boy's head.
The ruthless, efficient warrior vanished, replaced instantly by a smug, overconfident brat with the swagger of a guy who just beat the final boss using one finger.
His posture shifted, head cocked slightly to the side, a sly grin tugging at the corner of his lips.
Casually kicking the body of one of the thugs, the boy fished out a black bucket hat with red accents from one of their hands, surprisingly pristine.
"There you are, my baby~," he cooed, cradling the hat like it was a long-lost child. He blew off some imaginary dust and flipped it onto his head with a flourish.
Finally, his attention snapped to Marcus. And he gave him a look like Marcus had just asked him to split the bill on a date he didn't know they were on.
"Who the fuck are you?" The boy asked bluntly, squinting as if Marcus were some poorly written side character that had wandered into the wrong scene.
"Uh—" Marcus blinked, but he never got to finish.
Because the boy immediately lunged at him like a chihuahua with a vendetta, shouting, "Stranger danger!" as he flew through the air with a flying kick that had absolutely no build-up or context.
"WHAT TH—" Marcus yelped, barely dodging out of the way as the kid sailed past him like a missile in human form.
The boy hit the ground, rolled like an action movie star, popped back up, and looked at Marcus accusingly.
"You're not a cop, are you?" He demanded.
"No!"
"Secret agent?"
"NO!"
"Jude?"
"We're the same age, bro."
"…Debt collector?"
"What?...No!"
The boy squinted again, clearly unconvinced, tapping his chin thoughtfully as if solving a murder mystery.
"Hmph. You look like a debt collector," He muttered suspiciously.
Marcus stared in disbelief. "What does that even mean?!"
"I will not be fooled. You are part of the IRS."
"What..? If you thought that, then why would you suddenly attack me out of nowhere?!"
The kid paused. Then nodded sagely.
"Alright. You pass. For now."
He gave a thumbs-up. With both hands.
Then turned around, tripping over one of the unconscious men, stumbled for a moment, and acted like it didn't happen.
Marcus just stood there in stunned silence.
'What the fuck just happened?'
***
Marcus shook his head; he didn't want to remember that time, lest he get an aneurysm.
"Hey… the match is over… the dude is dead… should we... stop him?" Arthur suggests, though his tone is uncertain.
"…"
The others remained silent; they didn't know what to do either, but since Mavena still hadn't intervened, they decided to wait it out.
Eventually, Giuseppe finally stopped his bloodied fist.
Nobody could see it, but in front of Ryan's face, multiple screens emerged.
{Mission Failed}
{System termination in progress}
{Effects of the skill: "Assimilation Duel" are reacting}
{The termination process has been revoked}
{Transferring to new host}
The screens then suddenly disappeared without warning.
Ryan Reidus is dead.
"Winner! Giuseppe Castellano!" Mavena finally announced, the rest of the class erupting into a crescendo of fake cheers.
They were already scared of 'the Giuseppe, who behaved like a mad animal—but this? This one was much worse. Somehow.
Giuseppe stands up, getting off Ryan's corpse.
He feels a light prick in his spine as if a bug bit him, but he ignores it.
He sweeps his bloodied hand across his face as if to dry some sort of non-existent sweat, but that only serves to smear Ryan's blood.
Turning his head to the spectator stands, he takes a good glance at his fellow students before announcing.
"If any... single one of you..."
"Think you can stand before me... without a fighting spirit... Let alone challenge!? Me!?" He doesn't bother finishing his sentence, merely kicking Ryan's mangled corpse off the platform like a piece of trash.
The sight of Giuseppe's blood-covered face and his empty black eyes, like two pools of darkness, the students would never forget.
"I will... kill you."
Evelynne felt her face heating up at the sight, she covered the growing smile on her face with her trembling hand.
___________________________________
Author Note
;)