The Fighting Pit

A sharp impact struck his back.

“Ugh…”

When the boy forced his heavy eyes open, a damp, dark landscape spread before him.

“E-everyone! The boy’s awake!”

The old man sitting beside him cried out in relief.

“Is that really what matters right now?”

“Figure out how we’re supposed to fight with that dead weight!”

The men snapped back irritably, jolting him fully alert.

“How heartless. What difference will it make if we fight each other…”

He turned his head toward the sympathetic old man.

His unwashed face was shabby and unsightly, but his eyes were warm.

“Where… am I…?”

Barely suppressing his nausea, he asked, and the old man sent him a pitying look.

“Fighting Pit, Room 15.”

“Fighting… pit?”

“A place where they capture people like you and me and offer us as food to monsters.”

An underground fighting pit.

Vagrants, slaves, debtors, kidnapped civilians.

An illegal arena where various people fought against something to satisfy the audience’s craving for spectacle.

The matches here were divided into three types.

Individual matches where skilled fighters were invited to compete.

Subjugation battles where a team of seven fought monsters.

Death matches where they fought until only one person remained alive.

Room 15 was exclusively for subjugation battles.

“Damn it!”

The man called Boyle, the leader here, shouted irritably.

“We asked for someone with a good build, and they send us a half-dead wreck! Do these bastards think it’s enough just to fill the quota? Is it fun watching us all die?!”

His outburst of frustration represented Room 15’s current state of mind.

Subjugation battles were matches enjoyed for how brutally monsters killed people.

They had watched the horrific price of one-sided slaughter, trembling all the while.

“Do you think we’ll just die quietly?!”

Boyle grabbed the iron bars and shouted as if for those outside to hear.

Room 15 had achieved exactly one victory against a monster.

The price had been sacrificing a military veteran turned mercenary who’d entered to pay off his debts.

Now, in his place, came a boy who could die at any moment—no wonder they were furious.

Boyle ground his teeth and began plotting strategy with the survivors.

The old man and the boy weren’t even included.

“It would have been better if you’d gone to a different room.”

The old man sighed.

Since people who should have died survived, the organizers wouldn’t be pleased.

A stronger monster would definitely appear in the next match.

And on top of that, the boy had arrived as dead weight.

Death was a foregone conclusion.

“Hey, last meal.”

As if driving in the final nail, the guard tossed in dried bread chunks, water, and potatoes.

“You bastard! That’s not what we agreed on! You said if we struggled, you’d forgive the debt!”

“Hahaha, Boyle. You think your debt disappears after one or two performances? You’re trying to cruise through life too easily.”

“You sons of bitches! I’m paying off my debt!”

“Pay it off with your body here. We give you food, put weapons in your hands, even let you exercise. Where else could you find such a good place?”

“I’ll kill you all! I’ll tear you to pieces!”

“Make sure to take good care of the new guy this time too and put on a spectacular show! Hahahaha!”

The guard drummed his baton against the bars noisily and disappeared.

Boyle ground his teeth and took all the supplied provisions.

“H-hey…”

“What?”

Boyle glared at the old man.

“Give us some food too.”

“You two are useless.”

“This boy is injured. He needs to eat something!”

“We need to eat our fill and fight so you can live too! If we survive, we can give you food or whatever!”

Boyle shoved only a water bowl at them roughly and began devouring the provisions with his men.

The old man sighed and pulled out a small piece of bread from his clothes.

He split the palm-sized bread in half and pushed it into the boy’s mouth.

“It’s left over from yesterday, but it hasn’t gone bad. Chew it slowly.”

The first food eaten in the lower world.

He rolled the bread piece in his mouth as much as possible—it was so hard it barely chewed.

When he tasted a faint sweetness, his chest burned.

His stomach churned and nausea rose.

Synchronization Rate – 5%

His soul had barely entered the body.

When the old man gave him a sip of water, only his finger joints and ankles moved slightly.

The worst situation where even turning his head was difficult.

But hearing his heart beat properly, the boy felt relieved.

‘The half-living’s privilege is proving quite useful.’

A human who died once and came back to life develops stronger survival instincts, dramatically increasing natural recovery.

But that alone couldn’t fully heal the chest wound.

‘I’ve avoided immediate death. But without taking measures, I won’t last a month.’

Recovery had its limits.

Once the flesh healed adequately, he needed to correct the disrupted internal flow to fully overcome death.

The problem was it would be difficult to buy that kind of time alone.

‘This one seems useful.’

The boy looked at the old man.

A person’s true nature emerged when cornered.

Someone like the old man didn’t need to worry about betrayal, and had a strong tendency to band together when cornered.

The lower world, reached after traversing long ages.

The old man wasn’t a bad guide for surviving here.

“What’s your name?”

“They call me Yak.”

“I’m Pernok.”

Pernok turned his gaze to the remaining bread.

“Can you give me that bread?”

The old man blinked, then smiled gently.

“You must be very hungry.”

The old man pushed the remaining bread into Pernok’s mouth.

Pernok chewed the bread and asked the old man.

“Where are the weapons?”

“They let us each pick one in front of the arena.”

“Can we kill the monster with them?”

The old man seemed to think Pernok was terrified.

He smiled gently and said.

“It’s hard enough to pierce their hide. But if we work together, we can survive. Don’t worry about anything and rest.”

Pernok stared at the old man.

‘A naive fool.’

Boyle’s group seemed to have finished their planning.

The glances they shot this way weren’t ordinary.

‘They’re completely focused on abandoning us and surviving, while he clings to lukewarm hopes of cooperation.’

Pernok wore a faint smile.

‘As expected, the lower world is the same now as it was then.’

Despite the long ages that had passed, the lower world remained as greedy as ever.

As the familiar feeling brought peace to his mind, the pain he’d briefly forgotten surged back.

Pernok calmly observed his inner self.

There was a more serious problem than his wretched physical condition.

‘If only I could freely draw upon my spiritual power.’

Spiritual power symbolized the soul’s dignity.

The origin of all things that accompanied life from the beginning, a special force whose reality one comprehends only after death.

Pernok had mastered spiritual power in the Netherworld and reached its peak.

Right now, the infinite spiritual power that dominated the Netherworld was engraved in his soul.

But he couldn’t draw on it freely.

‘Manifesting the power of the dead in the world of the living places extreme burden on the body, as expected.’

Because the synchronization rate was low, there was a clear limit to how much spiritual power he could draw.

If he forcibly pulled spiritual power, his barely settled soul might bounce right out of the body.

‘Attack techniques are impossible, but I should be able to infuse strength into the body.’

He circulated spiritual power less than a speck of dust to his eyes.

Soul Discernment.

Or the technique called the Observation Eye—when the detection skill activated, he could see clearly inside Yak’s body.

“Doesn’t your stomach hurt?”

“My stomach? Come to think of it, it hasn’t felt great since yesterday.”

Pernok nodded indifferently.

Soul Discernment was originally a technique to look one step ahead at the direction a soul was heading, predicting an opponent’s movements.

Due to the low synchronization rate, right now it could only peek inside an opponent’s body.

‘It’s been a while.’

It felt like returning to when he first trained in spiritual power in the Netherworld.

The situation wasn’t good, but being able to use spiritual power was a positive sign.

The transcendent’s spiritual power was engraved in his soul, and once he raised the body’s synchronization rate, he could draw on it anytime.

‘I should slowly build the foundation.’

No need to rush and burden the body.

With the feeling of paving the way one step at a time, Pernok began improving his blood flow first.

* * *

He didn’t know how much time had passed.

When he could sit up, the guard came again.

“Hehe, time for some fun.”

Yak cried out in alarm.

“This boy still can’t move!”

“If you want to all die, keep whining.”

The moment the guard drew his baton, five sets of eyes poured onto Yak.

Yak loaded Pernok onto his scrawny back.

“W-we’ll go like this.”

“Should’ve done that from the start.”

The guard led all seven from Room 15 away.

After walking down the gloomy corridor for a while, they stopped in front of a display stand hung with shabby weapons.

“Go ahead, take what you like.”

The moment Boyle saw the weapons’ condition, he spewed curses.

The weapons with bloodstains still rusted onto them weren’t even properly maintained.

This was all Room 15 was given.

“Struggle to the very end again today.”

The sinisterly smiling guard opened the arena door.

Room 15 was pushed into the arena, each holding a shabby weapon without armor.

Behind the high-rising walls sat masked spectators.

“It’s Room 15!”

“Survive this time too!”

“I bet on you guys!”

Yak set Pernok down in the back, and Boyle and his men tensed up and took their stances.

“You two! When the monster comes out, circle to the side!”

“Follow if you want to live! Hurry!”

They’d throw this side as bait and strike at the monster’s opening.

Ignoring the judgment not worth responding to, Pernok turned his gaze to Yak.

“That’s my weapon, right?”

Yak nodded with a heavy expression and handed Pernok the shabby longsword.

Pernok used the longsword as a cane and struggled to stand up.

“It’s hard to stand, so move back.”

“Boyle said to go to the side…”

“Why would we listen to someone trying to kill us?”

It was the moment Yak hesitated, unable to decide easily.

“What are you doing! To the side…!”

Grrrrind!

An eerie metallic sound cut off Boyle’s shout.

When the iron bars on the opposite side opened, a bright red monster holding an iron skewer walked out.

It was a head shorter than Boyle, and its claws were as bright red as its skin.

“Ooh! A Red Zaka!”

“Ah, we’re screwed.”

“Room 15 is all dead.”

Room 15 didn’t know what that was.

There were no such monsters in the era when Pernok lived either.

But regardless of what came out, the worst-case situation didn’t change.

Among the despairing people, only Pernok calmly gripped his sword.

Just lifting it slightly made the sword tip shake violently.

‘If I grip with both hands and put strength into it, I can stab once.’

One step, one thrust.

The moment he failed, this side would be mauled.

“Gyaaaah!”

“Marcoooo!”

Screams swept through Boyle’s party.

Boyle wore a panicked expression at the stone that flew at him out of nowhere.

‘Its intelligence is crudely attached.’

Pernok could barely lift his sword, and Yak was a terrified old man.

They looked weak at a glance.

Weak ones didn’t count toward the head count.

The Red Zaka wasn’t stupid enough to try processing already cooked prey again.

The cunning creature thought that in this moment overflowing with strength, it should kill the most troublesome-looking Boyle first, and didn’t even glance at him.

A wise judgment.

That is, if it had been before Pernok identified the Red Zaka’s weakness.

“Old man.”

“…”

“Old man!”

“Huh? Wha!”

“Snap out of it. We all die like this.”

Every time screams burst from Boyle’s party, Yak trembled.

This was a stage set up for slaughter from the start.

Just for surviving once, Room 15 had to pay the price of being brutally mauled.

But he didn’t want to die like this.

“I know its weakness.”

Yak perked up his ears and turned to look at Pernok.

“When it comes, I’ll give you a signal. Then we run forward together.”

“T-toward that thing?”

“Remember. If you mess up, we die together.”

Yak stared forward with trembling eyes.

“Waaaaah!”

The Red Zaka’s mercilessness drew cheers from the crowd.

Perhaps stimulated by their pleasure.

Yak gripped his weapon tightly with a resentful expression.

“Ah… ahhh…”

Meanwhile, Boyle, who’d been trembling and even pissed himself, sat down clutching his weapon.

He turned his gaze toward Pernok.

“H-help me…”

Thunk!

The iron skewer tore off Boyle’s head.

The Red Zaka brought its mouth to the neck where blood fountained like a spring.

After drinking the blood as if it were water, the creature tossed the corpse aside and turned its head toward the two.

It grinned wickedly.

“Kraaaaaah!”

At last, it charged toward dessert.

There were no irregular movements.

Perhaps thinking them fish already caught, it charged while raising the iron skewer high.

The Red Zaka kicked off the ground honestly, and Pernok’s Observation Eye grasped the series of movements.

“Now.”

Yak rushed in, cradling his weapon in his arms.

Clumsy movement more like trying to resist than slash the enemy.

He even closed his eyes.

No hunter would refuse prey that came to them.

The Red Zaka bared its blood-slicked fangs.

With all attention sold on the weak Yak, the iron skewer descended in a straight line.

The moment Yak flailed helplessly in terror.

Crack!

A sword jutting out from under Yak’s armpit pierced through the Red Zaka’s right eye.

“…Huh?”

Yak turned around without realizing it.

Pernok, who’d stuck close to Yak’s back and hidden his body, gripped the sword with both hands and threw his weight behind it.

Then he twisted both hands.

Crrrack!

Something burst inside the Red Zaka’s head with a sound.

It collapsed backward, making a phlegmy sound with the sword stuck in its eye.

At the same time, Pernok slumped down.

He’d taken just one step, yet cold sweat poured like rain.

But his gaze remained fixed on the convulsing Red Zaka.

“Shallow.”

He’d predicted the Red Zaka’s movements and succeeded in filling its vision entirely with Yak.

He’d delivered the best strike to the most vulnerable spot with a shabby weapon that couldn’t even pierce hide, yet the Red Zaka was still breathing.

Quite a tenacious life.

“Old man, finish it.”

“H-huh?”

“There’s a good weapon right here.”

Pernok kicked the iron skewer rolling on the ground.

“This trash can’t pierce that hide, but the skewer is different.”

“D-did we survive?”

“Don’t relax until you’ve smashed its head.”

Yak wasn’t a fool, even if he was naive.

Swallowing his dry spit, he picked up the iron skewer with both hands and struck the Red Zaka’s head with all his might.

Thunk! Thunk! Thunk!

As if containing all his pent-up resentment, Yak’s skewering didn’t stop.

Pernok turned to look at the spectator seats.

Everyone was silent.

They seemed not to have expected the wounded Pernok and the scrawny Yak to kill the Red Zaka.

“Huff, huff, huff!”

Pernok slowly turned his gaze to the gasping Yak.

At that moment, pure white light rose from around them.

It was the phenomenon of Boyle’s party and the Red Zaka’s souls ascending to the Netherworld.

It wasn’t particularly surprising, but there was a light that especially caught Pernok’s attention.

A subtle light flowing along the soul.

When Pernok reached out his hand to it, the soul headed to the Netherworld while only the light was absorbed.

“…!?”

Pernok’s eyes widened in surprise.

Synchronization Rate – 5.1%

A change had occurred in the synchronization rate that hadn’t budged an inch.