I stood in the center of the ring.
Chaos raged all around me. Hundreds of voices merged into one solid, deafening wall — shouts, curses, hoarse laughter, bets being screamed right in my face. People pounded their fists on the metal structures, waved wads of cash, and spat on the concrete floor. The air was heavy, humid, saturated with the smell of sweat, fresh blood, and cheap tobacco. Bright lamps from above cut into my eyes, creating sharp shadows and making everything around even dirtier and more brutal.
The screams didn’t stop for a second. Someone was yelling bets, someone was cursing, someone was simply going wild with anticipation of blood. The smell of sweat, iron, and excitement hung so thick you could almost chew it.
But I was completely calm.
Not a drop of fear. No trembling in my knees. No racing heartbeat. Only a cold, heavy confidence rising from somewhere deep within this body. From Ren. As if this body already knew what a real fight was like and was simply remembering old instincts.
I slowly scanned the frenzied crowd. Many were already shouting my name — or what was left of it in their memory.
“Kurasaki! Kurasaki! Kill him!”
“Tear that black bastard apart!”
“I’m betting thirty thousand on Ren! Come on, show him who’s the boss here!”
“Meat! Meat! Meat!”
I didn’t smile. I just stood there and waited, feeling a strange, almost pleasant tension spreading through my veins. It was… intoxicating.
And then my opponent began making his way onto the ring from the crowd.
A tall, heavily muscled black man. Muscular, glistening with sweat and oil, with a heavy gaze and an arrogant smirk that quickly began to fade when he saw me fully. He was broad-shouldered, but noticeably shorter than me — almost a head shorter.
I remembered him immediately.
In the game, he was one of the most unpleasant antagonists in Tsukino Rin’s route. On the bad endings, it was him who broke her. Took her from Haruto. Fed her drugs, threatened her, slowly and methodically destroyed her. He didn’t disappear from the plot — he went all the way to the end on the dark routes.
And the original Ren? I was quickly removed after the first major arc. Arrested. I was just an early antagonist. A one-time tool.
So you were stronger than me… in the original game.
I narrowed my eyes.
But one thought wouldn’t leave me alone.
Why didn’t the clan do anything earlier? Rin is their blood. The granddaughter of the boss. And this bastard was abusing her right in front of everyone. Feeding her drugs, blackmailing her. Why didn’t they intervene? Maybe in the original game he was simply stronger? Maybe for them victory in the ring and strength are more important than blood? Maybe they were just waiting for the moment when they could publicly and brutally destroy him?
I didn’t know the answer. And honestly, I didn’t care anymore.
Fine. The main thing is to destroy this scum.
He climbed onto the ring. His eyes quickly scanned me — height, shoulders, tattoos, facial expression. The arrogant smirk disappeared completely. Instead, tension and caution appeared.
I felt something predatory awaken inside me. Something dark and satisfied. Ren’s instincts.
The fight began.
He immediately charged forward, trying to use his weight advantage. The first powerful swing at my head. I didn’t dodge completely — I took part of the blow on my shoulder. It hurt, but it was bearable.
The crowd exploded.
“Ooooooh! There it is!”
“The black guy’s gonna knock him out!”
I answered with a short, hard jab straight to the nose. A crunch. Blood sprayed.
“You son of a bitch…” he hissed in English.
We began circling. He tried to press with his mass, I controlled the distance. When he closed in for a clinch, I met him with an elbow. Then I grabbed his left wrist and twisted sharply. The middle and ring fingers cracked almost simultaneously.
He screamed.
The crowd howled.
I didn’t let go. I kept twisting until I heard another crunch. Then I drove my knee into his stomach. He doubled over. I added an elbow to the back of his head. He dropped to one knee.
He tried to fight back. One heavy hook landed in my ribs. I felt something crack. Pain flared brightly.
But I only grinned.
I grabbed his head and drove my knee into his face. His nose broke completely. Blood poured out in a stream.
“Kurasaki! Kurasaki! Kurasaki!” the crowd was already chanting.
He was still trying to fight. A series of blows to the body. Two landed. Another rib. The pain was sharp, but I kept pressing.
I caught his right arm and twisted the elbow in an unnatural direction. A loud, distinct crunch. He screamed so loudly that even the crowd quieted for a second.
I knocked him to the floor. I started working methodically. Elbows. Knees. Fists. Every strike was calculated. I wasn’t just hitting. I was breaking.
When he was barely resisting, I grabbed him by the hair and sharply pulled him to his feet. He hung on me like a rag doll, his legs buckling, blood flowing from his mouth and nose.
The crowd froze.
I turned him with his back to me, wrapped one arm around his neck and the other around his thigh. I lifted his body up.
The hall fell completely silent.
I sharply brought his spine down onto my raised knee.
Crunch.
A loud, disgusting, wet crunch echoed throughout the warehouse.
His spine broke.
His body convulsed, a short, gurgling wheeze escaped from his throat, and then he went completely limp. His arms and legs hung lifelessly.
I let him go.
The body fell heavily onto the blood-soaked concrete.
Complete silence.
No one was shouting. No one was betting. Even those who had just been yelling bets fell silent. A heavy, oppressive silence hung over the hall. Many simply stared with open mouths. Some turned away. Some stood with pale faces. Several people in the front rows looked like they were about to vomit.
The cameras filming the fight for the underground site continued to roll. Red recording lights glowed in several places.
I slowly straightened up. Breathing heavily, with bloodied hands and chest. My ribs ached. My face burned. But inside, it was strangely empty and calm.
I looked at the motionless body beneath me.
You broke Rin on the bad endings. You took her from Haruto. And now you’re lying here like a broken doll.
I turned toward the VIP platform where Sakamoto Kenichi and his son Ryuji were sitting.
And looked them straight in the eyes.
The job was done.
The old man slowly rose. There was no smile on his face — only cold satisfaction. Ryuji looked at me with respect and slight surprise.
“Five million,” Sakamoto Kenichi announced loudly, his voice carrying throughout the warehouse. “As agreed.”
One of his men approached me with a black bag. I took it without looking. It was heavy. Money.
The crowd gradually began to come to its senses. First timid applause, then louder. Someone started chanting my name again, but quieter now, with caution.
I stepped down from the ring. Every step sent pain through my ribs, but I walked steadily, showing no weakness.
Ryuji came down and stood in front of me. He looked me in the eyes.
“You did more than we expected,” he said quietly. “My daughter… will finally be able to sleep peacefully.”
I nodded.
“Good.”
The old man Sakamoto Kenichi also approached. He looked at me with a long, appraising gaze.
“You’re not just strong,” he said. “You’re cruel. That’s a rare combination. If you ever want to work for the clan — the door is open.”
I didn’t answer right away. I simply looked at the bag of money in my hand.
“I’ll think about it.”
I turned and walked toward the exit. The crowd parted before me. No one dared to stand in my way.
Outside, dawn was already breaking. The cold morning air hit my face. I walked through the empty streets, feeling the adrenaline slowly fade while the pain in my ribs and face grew sharper.
Five million.
Now I had money.
Now I could begin.