Chapter 31: The Reason for Coming

A deathmatch in the arena—only one could walk away alive.

Tygor was down, but not dead yet.

So the battle wasn't over.

After a brief silence, the spectators who had bet on Tygor began screaming like madmen, urging him to get up and keep fighting.

They didn't care about Tygor's condition. All they knew was that if he didn't get up soon, they would lose a fortune.

Yet no matter how much they shouted, Tygor couldn't rise.

Morrow's decisive strike had robbed him of any chance to counterattack.

Now, he was like a newborn foal, trembling as he struggled to stand, only to collapse back onto the arena floor with a heavy thud.

Tap, tap—

Morrow walked toward him.

To Tygor, those light footsteps sounded like thunderous war drums, the deafening approach of death itself.

He let out a low growl, straining with all his might to rise, veins bulging from his forehead to his temples.

But the next moment, he coughed up blood and staggered back to the ground.

An aura-infused strike, when aimed at a weak point, could deal devastating damage in an instant—almost always sealing the fight's outcome.

Tygor knew this all too well.

"Length of Life"

This was his Transmuter-type ability, one fundamentally designed to exploit an opponent's vulnerabilities in combat.

So Tygor understood perfectly—once his own weak points had been struck, there was no turning the tables. All that remained was to wait for death.

Even so, he refused to accept it.

"I surrender! I surrender...!"

As Morrow drew near, Tygor's voice came out hoarse and desperate.

Not far from the arena, the referee heard him but made no move.

This was a deathmatch. No referee was needed.

Morrow stopped before Tygor, watching his futile struggle, the defiance in his eyes as death loomed.

"Did you really… lack even this much resolve?"

Muttering to himself, Morrow reached out and cleanly severed Tygor's last thread of life.

The Lv.5 on the rings on the back of his hand abruptly jumped to Lv.7.

Two levels at once—but Morrow paid it no mind as he slowly stood.

Tygor lay motionless on the arena, a corpse steadily losing its warmth.

Many of the gamblers in the stands let out cries of despair, followed by curses hurled at Morrow.

Ignoring the noise, Morrow turned and walked toward the fighter's passage beneath the arena.

Even with victory assured, he had chosen to finish off Tygor, who could no longer fight back.

Even if someone later condemned him for going that far, it wouldn't stir a single ripple in his heart.

He had insisted on killing Tygor.

Not because the match had turned into a deathmatch.

Not because killing Tygor would level him up.

But because Tygor had tried to kill him.

That was all.

Leaving the chaotic roar of the crowd behind, Morrow stepped into the passageway.

—--

Even so, countless eyes remained fixed on the tunnel's entrance.

"That rookie… isn't someone to mess with."

A 200th-floor fighter in the stands stared at the now-empty passage where Morrow had vanished.

He had watched the entire match.

Though he sensed Morrow possessed an ability that allowed him to adapt and grow stronger mid-battle, he was still confident he could defeat Morrow in an arena setting. But his subconscious warned him not to provoke Morrow.

"Forget it, better focus on other newcomers."

This 200th-floor fighter quickly made his decision.

He had come down to watch the lower-floor matches specifically to gather intel on rising talents like Morrow and Tygor who would soon reach the 200th floor.

The motivation was simple – to secure a crucial victory from these newcomers.

He wasn't alone in this thinking. Over thirty 200th-floor fighters had come specifically to watch Morrow and Tygor's matches.

Some, after seeing the matches, deemed Morrow too dangerous and shifted their focus to other challengers still climbing the ranks.

Others believed Morrow's skills remained immature, seeing him as an easy target for points.

These veteran fighters who specialized in preying on newcomers saw nothing wrong with their approach.

Once you reached the 200th floor, if you wanted to maintain your fame and status rather than face elimination, you had to find ways to win more matches.

They were simply playing by the rules to benefit themselves.

Of course...

If pushed to the brink with no way out...

They wouldn't hesitate to break the rules either.

—--

"You're not... trying to charge me tuition fees, are you?"

Walking down the corridor toward the 190th-floor lounge, Morrow joked with the long-haired woman before him.

He asked because—

After introducing herself as Calista, she'd mentioned watching his recent match.

Meaning she'd seen him use that footwork against Tygor in the arena.

"Of course not... I wouldn't dare."

Calista, the long-haired woman, waved her hands in denial.

Morrow smiled, seeing through her intentions: "You want to know how I can use your footwork, right?"

"Yes, but not entirely."

Calista shook her head at his question.

"After losing to you that day, I've been following your matches. I know you're always learning – absorbing techniques from your opponents. When I saw you use the 'Gazelle' steps today, I was shocked, but what I really want to know is..."

Her expression turned serious as she looked at Morrow.

"How you mastered it so perfectly. I can sense... you must have some secret technique. Something I don't know about, but definitely exists."

"..."

Morrow looked slightly surprised, then nodded. "I won't deny that."

"Then could you—"

Hope flashed in Calista's eyes.

"Is that why you're here too?"

Morrow suddenly interrupted, turning toward a corridor intersection.

After a brief silence,

A handsome young man with silver short hair emerged from around the corner.

He wasn't surprised Morrow had detected him. In his eyes, Morrow's presence loomed so large that he'd willingly swallow his pride just for this chance.

"Yes, I'm also curious... about that wall-like force you wield."

The man admitted frankly to Morrow's question, then stated his purpose directly: "My name is Kastro. If Mr. Morrow could help solve my doubts... then whatever request Mr. Morrow may have, I will agree to it and do my utmost to fulfill it."

"Hmm?"

Morrow looked at the man with some surprise.

Beside them.

Calista fixed her gaze on Kastro.

A miscalculation...

I should have declared my resolve first!