The streets of Japan surrounding Naseri Tower were alive with chaos. Merchants barked out prices, street performers dazzled passersby, and aspiring fighters from every corner of the city scrambled to find the tower's elusive entrance. But amidst the city's vibrant chaos, seventeen-year-old Daichi Girubō moved with purpose.
The towering structure loomed above him, a gleaming spire that seemed to pierce the sky itself. To most, the tower was a symbol of ambition—a place where strength, wealth, and pride were earned. But to Daichi, it was something else entirely.
"This has to be the right way," he muttered, his green eyes scanning the cramped alleyways.
His footsteps echoed as he darted through the maze of shadows. Every corner looked the same; every dead-end threatened to steal precious time. His heart hammered in his chest—not from exhaustion, but from the weight of his resolve.
Finally, he saw it: a narrow, unmarked passage tucked between two crumbling walls. The shadows seemed to cling to it, almost daring him to enter.
Daichi adjusted the black jacket draped over his shoulders and stepped into the passage. "After all these years, I'm finally able to take my first step," he whispered to himself.
The creak of an iron door announced his arrival into a dimly lit hall. The air was cool and thick, carrying an unsettling silence. Daichi slowed his steps, his gaze sweeping over the room.
Out of the darkness emerged an elderly man. His posture was casual, but his presence was commanding. Sharp eyes locked onto Daichi, studying him as though peering into his very soul.
"Another one, eh?" The man's voice was calm, almost amused. "What drives you to enter this tower, boy? Pride? Strength? Wealth?"
Daichi's fists clenched. He shook his head firmly, his voice steady despite the knot of nerves twisting in his stomach. "None of those."
The man raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Then why are you here?"
"To keep a promise."
The old man's expression shifted, his curiosity piqued. "A promise, you say? Tell me about it."
Daichi slipped the jacket off his shoulders, holding it up for the man to see. The fabric was worn, the edges frayed, but the bold white Kanji for strength 力 embroidered on the back remained pristine.
"This jacket belonged to Akihiko Girubō," Daichi said, his voice laced with pride. "He's my older brother—and the current champion of this tower."
The old man's eyes narrowed slightly. "Go on."
"When Akihiko left our family to join the tower, he gave me this jacket," Daichi continued. "He told me I could return it to him when I became strong enough to beat him."
For a moment, the hall was silent. Then the old man laughed—a deep, rumbling sound that seemed to fill the entire space.
"What a rare motive," the old man said, his tone carrying a hint of approval. "Most come here chasing their own desires. But you? You're chasing someone else's shadow."
Daichi straightened, his resolve unshaken. "I'm not chasing his shadow. I'm chasing the promise I made."
The old man grinned, his expression turning sly. "Well said. You've passed the first trial."
Daichi blinked in surprise. "First trial?"
The man's grin widened as he stepped back. His movements were fluid and deliberate. In an instant, he no longer looked like just an old man—he looked like a fighter, coiled and ready to strike.
"Now for the last trial," the man said, his tone laced with challenge. "Show me your fighting style. Or are you just all talk after all?"
Before Daichi could fully process the words, the old man lunged at him with startling speed. His fist shot forward, aimed directly at Daichi's chest.
Instinct took over. Daichi sidestepped the attack, his movements sharp and precise. The old man's punch missed by a hair, but the grin on his face only grew wider.
"Not bad," the old man said, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of approval and curiosity. "But this is only the beginning. Let's see how far your promise can take you."
Daichi's heart raced, but he stood his ground, his resolve burning brighter than ever. "I'll keep that promise, no matter what."
As the old man shifted back into a defensive stance, the faint light flickered above them, casting shadows that danced on the walls. For Daichi, the fight had just begun—not just against this man, but against the tower itself and the promise he'd sworn to keep.