The streets outside the underground arena were still pulsing with noise as Shadow and May slipped through the back alleys like shadows themselves. Lanterns swayed above them, their flickering light dancing on the grimy stone walls. The scent of sweat, spice, and smoke clung to the night. May clutched the coin pouch tight against her chest, a grin tugging at her lips.
"Fifteen thousand silver," she whispered breathlessly, glancing at him. "Shadow, we're finally getting ahead. We can get armor, a blade maybe—hell, even time to breathe."
Shadow walked beside her, silent as ever, his steps soundless, his eyes always moving—reading corners, rooftops, shadows. Every muscle in his body was wound tight, like a spring ready to release. The underground fights might have ended, but danger hadn't.
Then it happened. A shiver passed through him—a subtle disturbance in the rhythm of the air, the weight of the wind changing. His steps faltered ever so slightly. Instinct screamed.
"Move!" he barked, but it was too late.
A section of the wall to their left exploded in a burst of brick and dust. May let out a startled cry and stumbled backward, nearly falling. Her eyes widened in shock, heart pounding as debris rained down.
From the haze, a hulking figure emerged, stepping through the smoke like a nightmare come to life. Nearly twice Shadow's size, the man's frame filled the narrow alleyway. He wore no mask—only a loose black cloak that slipped from his shoulders, revealing slabs of muscle and two thick steel batons strapped across his back. His face was scarred, his grin cruel.
"Evening stroll? How sweet," he said, voice deep, lazy, and mocking.
May's hand shot to her belt, fingers fumbling for the hidden blade tucked under her tunic. Her voice came out shakier than she wanted. "Who the hell are you?"
The man cracked his neck with a sickening pop. "Name's Brick. One of Lynx's personal guards. He sends his regards."
May's breath caught. Her eyes shot to Shadow, who had already stepped in front of her, body coiled, fists tightening.
"So soon?" Shadow murmured to himself.
Brick grinned and reached behind him, drawing both batons with a heavy metallic clunk. "Boss wants to see what you're really made of. After what you did to Shin and those ninjas, he figured it was time to test your skills."
Shadow tilted his head, unfazed. "You'll do."
"Such an insignificant creature like you is hardly a challenge for me," Brick growled, raising his weapons. "Prepare to be crushed, little man!"
May opened her mouth to speak, to tell him not to underestimate Shadow, but Brick was already moving—faster than a man his size had any right to. One of the batons came swinging low, aimed straight for her head.
Shadow moved like lightning. He caught the blow with his forearm, the clash echoing down the alley, and shoved May backward with his free hand.
"Go," he ordered, voice flat.
"But—"
"Now."
She hesitated for a heartbeat, torn, then turned and bolted into the shadows of the side street. Her last glimpse was of Shadow, standing alone against the beast.
Brick whistled. "Chivalry? In a killer's realm? Cute."
Shadow didn't answer. His feet shifted slightly, his body lowering into a stance honed by countless battles.
Brick twirled a baton lazily. "C'mon, Shadow. Let's take this somewhere scenic."
With a burst of incredible power, he jumped, crushing a rusted metal ladder underfoot as he shot onto the rooftop. Shadow followed without hesitation, his form a blur as he scaled the wall in seconds.
The city stretched out around them like a sea of dim fire, lanterns flickering below. The rooftop was wide and open—perfect for a showdown.
Brick cracked his knuckles. "Ready to be pulp?"
Shadow's eyes narrowed. "You talk a lot for a measly bodyguard."
Brick's sneer twisted into a snarl and he charged.
The steel batons swung with brute force, slicing the air with every strike. Shadow moved in close, dodging, weaving, countering with precision punches that thudded against flesh and bone—but Brick's sheer size absorbed the hits. He pressed forward like a juggernaut.
Then a heavy strike landed—right in Shadow's ribs. The air whooshed from his lungs as he skidded back, boots scraping across tile.
"Not bad," Brick chuckled. "But I've cracked tougher things than you. You're just a shadow—a reflection cast by your grave mistakes."
Shadow wiped blood from the corner of his lip. "Then try harder."
With a roar, Brick brought one baton down like a guillotine. Shadow caught it with both arms, but the weight drove him to one knee. The second baton slammed into his side, and the force hurled him through a rooftop overhang.
He crashed into the restaurant below with a thunderous cacophony, splinters flying as he tumbled through tables and ceramic dishes.
Screams erupted. Customers fled in panic, ducking behind counters and diving for cover. Shadow groaned and pushed himself up amidst the chaos, blood trickling down his temple.
Then Brick dropped like a meteor, landing with a floor-cracking impact.
"Not so scary now, are you?" Brick growled, stalking forward. "The mighty Shadow—just another smear on the road."
Shadow stood slowly. "You hit like a drunk ox."
Brick's grin faltered. "Alright. No more games."
Batons blurred through the air as he attacked again. Shadow ducked, rolled, and sidestepped, each motion sharp and focused. The room became a whirlwind of destruction—tables smashed, walls dented, glass exploding in shards. But now Shadow's hits were finding their marks: throat, ribs, kneecap. Each blow more precise than the last.
Brick began to grunt in frustration, his swings growing wild. Shadow spun around a baton swing and slammed his elbow into Brick's solar plexus. The big man wheezed, stunned. Shadow followed up with a brutal punch to the side of his head, then a low kick that buckled Brick's knee.
Brick roared, grabbing Shadow and slamming him against a wall with bone-rattling force.
"I'll break every bone in your body!"
Shadow leaned close, voice like ice. "You can try."
He headbutted Brick, a sharp crack echoing, then twisted out of his grip. In one fluid motion, he struck both knees at once. Brick stumbled, collapsing forward.
Then Shadow unleashed hell.
A flurry of five punches—left jab, right cross, hook, uppercut, spinning backfist—slammed into Brick's face and chest. The giant staggered, dazed. One final backfist knocked him across the room into a support pillar, snapping it in half with a deafening crash.
Brick collapsed, bloodied and barely conscious. His batons clattered to the floor, forgotten.
Shadow stepped over him, chest rising and falling slowly. "Tell Lynx," he said coldly, "I'm coming."
Brick coughed blood. "I… I don't understand… How could one so small defeat me?"
He looked up through one swollen eye. "You won't defeat him. Lynx… he's the greatest ninja in the Shadow Realm. I pale in comparison."
Shadow turned away, already walking. "I already have."
May reappeared in the doorway, eyes darting around the ruined restaurant. The owner peeked out from behind the counter, trembling.
"Sorry about the mess," May muttered, tossing him a handful of silver coins.
She rushed to Shadow's side. "Are you—"
"I'm fine," he said, barely glancing at her. "Let's get out of here."
"Right… coming," she said, hurrying after him.
Behind them, shadows stirred.
A man stepped forward from the gloom—tall, lean, silent as death. A katana gleamed on his back. His eyes were unreadable.
Brick, barely clinging to consciousness, saw him. "Ghost… please, don't kill me. I-it was Lynx's order. Don't take it personally—"
Slash.
Blood sprayed the wall. Brick's body slumped.
The man turned, vanishing into the night. "Now then… time to report what happened to Lynx."