Charles sat on the wooden bench, his body still trembling from exhaustion, but if there was one thing starting to gnaw at him now, it was…
'Why's Kaira being so nice?' he thought, narrowing his eyes. 'That's too… convenient.'
What if this was all a setup?
The idea sank in like a thorn.
Lira and Kaira working together.
Lira as the bad cop, Kaira as the good cop.
Charles flashed back to all those cop shows he'd watched in his world, where there was always a mean cop and a kind one.
The mean one yelled, intimidated, made you feel trapped.
The nice one offered coffee, spoke softly, made you think you could trust them.
'These bastards are doing exactly that!' he thought, glancing at Kaira, who flashed him a smile.
'How can a girl this pretty be so bad?'
But then another doubt hit him.
'Why should I hide his power in the first place?'
It was Lira who'd warned that revealing his power would put him in mortal danger for supposedly being magic, but…
'What do they even want from him?'
Kaira, noticing the heavy silence and Rian's distant stare, coughed several times to break the tension.
"Hey, Rian," she said, leaning toward him slightly. "I know you're… well, processing everything. That's normal. First fights are insane."
She paused, smiling with a hint of nostalgia.
"When I had my first arena fight, I was scared to death. The clan's brutal to losers, you know? Everyone's watching, expecting you to meet their standards."
Kaira laughed, shaking her head.
"But in the end, I did it. Killed my opponent no problem. It was… freeing. Felt amazing when everyone cheered me on after."
Charles blinked, his brain screeching to a halt.
'What?' he thought, staring at her wide-eyed.
'She said she killed someone and she's… proud?'
The way Kaira said it, so casual, like she was talking about winning a soccer game, chilled him to the bone.
'How can a girl so… tiny be so calm about that?' he thought, noticing how Kaira kept smiling, like she expected him to nod or something.
'This isn't right…'
And then, as if things couldn't get weirder, a realization hit him hard.
'Hold on,' he thought, feeling the air leave his lungs.
In the heat of today's fights—fire, lightning, the roaring crowd—Charles hadn't stopped to think about what happened to his opponents.
'Darion was alive, right?' he thought, recalling how he'd heard him mutter something as they dragged him from the arena.
But Syris…
The image of Syris Kael, sprawled in the sand, body smoldering, skin charred, flashed in his mind.
Syris definitely wasn't moving. No signs of breathing either.
'Crap!' he thought, a shiver running through him.
'Syris is dead. And I…'
Killing someone.
Charles swallowed hard, searching for some emotion inside himself, but…
Nothing.
No guilt, no sadness, not even relief.
Just… emptiness.
'What's wrong with me?' he thought, clenching his fists. 'Is it because I know this world isn't real?'
But even with that excuse, something inside screamed he should feel something.
Killing someone isn't normal.
It shouldn't be so… easy.
Lira, silent until now, leaned forward, arms still crossed.
Creak!
The chair groaned under her weight, and her voice cut through the silence.
"My first fight wasn't easy either," she said, her tone more thoughtful than boastful. "They train you, teach you moves, theory… but when you're in the arena, with someone trying to kill you, it's different."
She paused, staring at the floor like she was reliving it.
"I had doubts. Thought I couldn't do it. But in the end, I killed my opponent. And after… I don't know, you get used to it."
Charles stared, his jaw tightening.
'Get used to killing?' he thought, incredulous.
The way Lira said it, so cold, so matter-of-fact, made him shift back on the bench.
'These two are psychopaths!' he thought, the air in the room feeling heavier.
'Or… maybe sociopaths is the better term?' he wondered, unsure which was right.
But the idea of being stuck with two people who talked about killing like it was just another day at the office set his nerves on edge.
Kaira and Lira were now watching him, expectant, like they wanted him to share his own experience.
'Damn it!' he thought, feeling the weight of their stares.
Did he really have to talk about how it felt facing those two guys?