The old man's punch whistled through the air, missing Daichi by a breath. But before Daichi could counter, a sharp twist of movement sent the elder behind him in an instant. A heavy force pressed against his back—just enough to unbalance him but not enough to send him sprawling.
Daichi gritted his teeth. "He's fast. Too fast."
"Instinct alone won't save you." the old man said, stepping back. His voice remained calm, but his piercing gaze studied Daichi with newfound interest. "You're good at reacting, but what about striking first?"
Daichi spun around, feet shifting into a stance. His heart pounded in his chest, but his focus remained sharp. "I can't lose. Not when I've just started," Daichi thought to himself.
With a burst of speed, Daichi lunged forward, throwing a sharp jab aimed for the old man's ribs—only for his fist to meet empty air. The elder had already moved, his presence like a ghost in the dimly lit hall.
A sudden force stopped Daichi mid-motion. The old man's palm pressed against his chest, firm yet restrained.
"Enough," the elder said, withdrawing his hand. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "You have spirit. And unlike most brash idiots, you're willing to adjust mid-fight. I can tell you are related to Akihiko."
Daichi exhaled sharply, tension still buzzing through his body.
The old man stepped back, folding his arms. "You pass."
Daichi blinked. "I passed? Just like that?"
A short chuckle rumbled from the elder's throat. "What, you thought I'd need to knock you out first?" He shook his head. "Strength alone doesn't open the doors to this tower. You have resolve—and more importantly, you listen."
The words settled deep in Daichi's chest. He clenched his fists. This is just the first step.
The old man gestured toward the heavy iron door behind him. "Go on then. Step inside."
Daichi hesitated only a moment before pushing forward. The iron door groaned as he shoved it open, revealing a brightly lit room buzzing with energy. Fighters of all shapes and sizes stood in line, their voices blending into a low murmur of anticipation. Some sized each other up, others adjusted their gear, and a few leaned against the walls, their expressions unreadable.
At the front desk,
a woman with spiky green hair, clad in a green jacket over a white shirt, greeted him with a cheerful smile.
"Congratulations on passing the first test!" she said, her tone light but sharp, as if she had seen countless newcomers before him.