The Underground Fight Club

After getting teleported, they walked some distance to reach a nearby town, even bigger than the town they had visited previously. Bigger crowd, more shops, and countless activities — magic shows dazzled onlookers with brilliant tricks, while merchants shouted over each other to sell potions Ren had never even heard of.

The view was so immersive it was hard to absorb everything at once. They reached the central square, the liveliest part of town, and decided to check out some gear and supplies before continuing their journey.

"You want to buy some magic artifacts?" Rachel asked Ren, glancing at a nearby stall.

"Usually, wands and staffs require the user to have mana to activate them," Rachel explained. "But some artifacts are pre-enchanted. They work for users with little or no mana, as long as they’re used correctly."

"And you’ve got no mana — not even a flicker — so something pre-enchanted might be your only shot at using magic," Alex said.

"Wow... So even someone like me could wield magic with one of those? That’d be awesome," Ren said, eyes sparkling.

"I’m gonna go check out some swords," Kazuma announced. "Melissa, Alex — you’re with me!"

He turned back briefly. "Let’s meet at the central square by sunset, yeah?"

Without waiting for a response, he grabbed both of them and disappeared into the crowd.

With the others gone, Rachel and Ren wandered between the remaining stalls, the air buzzing with magical energy and bargaining voices.

"Here, sir! This magic ball lets you see the future!" a vendor called out, holding up a cloudy crystal orb.

Rachel narrowed her eyes. "We’re not tourists. Don’t try to scam us."

The vendor laughed awkwardly and turned to the next customer.

"See anything you like?" Rachel asked.

"Umm... not sure yet. What kind of magic do you use?" Ren asked curiously.

"I don’t," Rachel replied. "I don’t have enough mana for attack spells like Alex or healing magic like Melissa. That’s why I use a sword. I learned from my father."

"Is he in the village?"

Her eyes lowered for a moment. "He went on a quest to the Northern Continent about a year ago… and he hasn’t returned."

Ren fell silent. "So that’s why you were so insistent about going north with me."

"More or less. I was planning to head there eventually, whether or not you were involved," she said.

They moved on from the stall. Everything was new and fascinating to Ren, but he still didn’t know what kind of artifact would suit him. Still, this world was full of surprises — and his journey was just beginning.

After splitting up to explore the town, the group met again at the central square just as the sun began to dip behind the rooftops.

“What did you buy?” Ren asked, stretching a little.

“Feast your eyes on this beauty!” Kazuma grinned, drawing a gleaming sword from its sheath. “Made by a master craftsman from the capital, apparently. Costs a fortune—but the guy gave me a discount after I beat him in arm wrestling.”

“You’re hopeless,” Rachel sighed.

“I got healing potions for the road,” Melissa said, showing a small pouch. “Never know when we’ll need them.”

They continued walking through the lively streets, looking for an inn to stay the night. The crowd had started to thin out, and the evening air carried a gentle coolness. As the others walked ahead, Kazuma nudged Ren, slowing their pace until they were a few steps behind.

“Hey,” he whispered, “while I was out shopping… I heard a rumor.”

Ren raised a brow. “What kind of rumor?”

“There’s an underground fight club in this town,” Kazuma said, his voice low and excited. “Totally illegal. But apparently, some of the strongest guys from all over come here. Like, crazy strong. There’s one guy they say can’t even be scratched. Blades break on his skin.”

Ren blinked. That didn’t sound like some drunken tavern tale — it felt strangely familiar.

A place like that… might actually have some answers.

“So?” Kazuma smirked. “We sneak out tonight. Just the two of us. Girls’ll be asleep, and Alex dozes off like an old man. Easy.”

Ren hesitated for half a second, then nodded. “We’re just watching, right?”

“Of course! Just watching.” Kazuma gave a wink that didn’t help his case at all.

Later that night, with the inn silent and moonlight leaking through the windows, the two slipped out.

The town at midnight was a different world. The polished streets gave way to crooked alleys. Strange people loitered in the shadows — potion dealers with glowing vials, cloaked figures exchanging coin under hoods. The deeper they went, the rougher it became.

Finally, they reached a weathered bar on the outskirts.

One glance from Kazuma, and the bartender wordlessly pointed them to a staircase hidden behind a curtain. They descended into a wide stone basement, lit by hanging orbs of faint, eerie light.

Ren’s breath caught.

It was like a different realm down here.

The place was packed — men and women lining the edges, all dressed like mercenaries, criminals, or something in between. The scent of sweat, blood, and liquor filled the air. In the center was a circular fighting ring, bloodstains still visible on the ground.

“Now announcing!” a voice boomed through the chamber, enchanted to echo across the space. “The undefeated, the unshakeable — SKULL CRUSHER!!”

“He’s never been knocked down!” the announcer cried. “Blades snap on his body! Fists shatter! If you can bring him to his knees — even once — you walk away with 100 gold pieces!”

While Ren was still eyeing the massive man in the ring — Skull Crusher, they called him — he couldn’t help but stare. The guy looked less like a human and more like a walking mountain. Muscles like stone, skin that almost shimmered under the dim light. His expression was empty. Cold. Like he lived only to fight.

Kazuma, meanwhile, leaned toward a shady-looking man nearby, whispering something with a gleam in his eye. He looked like some kind of bookie, flipping a few gold coins in his palm.

Ren frowned and walked over. “Hey. What are you doing over here? Signing up for a match?” he asked, half-joking.

Kazuma just grinned menacingly. “Heh… something like that. I’ve got a feeling I’m about to win big tonight.”

Ren tilted his head. “What?”

And then—

“Ladies and gentlemen!” the announcer’s voice rang out again, louder this time. “From the distant southern lands, a new challenger has stepped up!”

The crowd roared with excitement.

Ren looked up toward the ring, curious who was brave—or stupid—enough to step in.

“His name is REN!” the announcer bellowed. “That ordinary-looking guy over there, yes, the one standing among you all with a confused look on his face!”

Ren’s eyes widened. “Huh?!”

Everyone turned to look at him. A mix of laughter, cheers, and mocking whistles echoed through the basement.

“You WHAT?!” Ren hissed at Kazuma.

Kazuma just gave him a big thumbs-up. “You’ll be fine! Believe in yourself!”

“What part of just watching did you not understand?!”

Before he could protest, two large men — likely the club bouncers — grabbed him and hauled him toward the center.

"Wait, what?! I didn’t—hey—let go of me!" Ren shouted, struggling against their grip.

“Come on, champ. You’ve got a crowd waiting.”

Ren tried to resist, but the crowd’s energy was overwhelming. People were already placing new bets. The room was buzzing with anticipation.

Inside the ring, Skull Crusher stood like a statue, barely acknowledging Ren’s presence.

Ren looked back at Kazuma, who was now jumping up and down like an excited child. “You got this, Ren! Just don’t die!”

No weapons. No preparation. No clue what he was doing.

He stood there, surrounded by strangers shouting his name, with the crowd roaring, Skull Crusher glaring down at him like a beast about to devour its prey.

He didn’t even know how this happened — but now, there was no turning back.

The referee raised his hand.

The bell was about to ring.

And Ren… had no idea what was going to happen next.

To be continued...