The elevator doors slid shut with a dull clang, trapping Zemin inside with the rest of the crew. The air felt thick with silence Kiichi's challenge hung in the atmosphere like lingering smoke.
Shuren stepped forward, her face a mask of calm, and pressed one of the top buttons on the panel. Then, almost as an afterthought, she shot a glance at Zemin.
"You might want to grab onto something," she said, her voice steady but with a hint of warning. "It's about to get a little bumpy."
Zemin blinked in confusion. Bumpy? It's just an elevator.
But before he could voice his thoughts, the floor jolted beneath him. The elevator shot upward for a split second, his stomach flipping with the sudden rush then, without warning, it dropped down at a terrifying speed.
"What the hell?!" Zemin stumbled, his hand shooting to the railing as his knees nearly gave way. The lights flickered, the metallic walls rattled, and his heart pounded against his chest like a drum.
He looked around, disbelief etched on his face.
Taura leaned casually against the wall, arms crossed, looking half-asleep. Tasia was humming softly, tapping her fingers in rhythm against her thigh. Even Sévon, the quiet one, didn't flinch when the floor buckled again.
Everyone was calm. Everyone except him.
Zemin's grip tightened on the railing, his body swaying with the wild motion. "You've got to be kidding me… this is normal for them?!"
Pixia smirked slightly at his struggle, her gaze sharp as if she were memorizing his every move. Kiichi, of course, noticed too, a smug grin spreading across his face.
"Careful, rookie," Kiichi drawled. "If you can't even handle the elevator, maybe we should just skip the sparring altogether."
Zemin gritted his teeth, forcing himself to stand tall despite the dizziness threatening to overwhelm him. He wasn't about to give this guy the satisfaction.
Finally, with a heavy ding, the elevator came to a shuddering halt. The doors slid open, and one by one, the crew stepped out casually, as if nothing out of the ordinary had just occurred.
Zemin was the last to exit, his legs still feeling stiff and unsteady. He attempted to straighten up, to walk like the others calm and composed but his balance let him down. Gritting his teeth in frustration, he stumbled out of the elevator.
And then he froze in place.
The room Shuren had led them to was vast, glaringly white under the bright overhead lights. In the center stood a smooth, flawless octagonal platform, slightly elevated from the ground. There were no cages enclosing it just tall, steel-gray pillars at each corner, their shadows stretching long across the polished floor.
It felt unsettlingly familiar. Like an arena.
He raised his gaze, following the lines of the walls until he spotted the upper level: rows of viewing spots, designed for spectators to watch the battles below. The entire space exuded one thing combat.
A place crafted to test people. To break them.
Shuren paused a few steps ahead and turned around, her eyes scanning the room before settling on Zemin. "This," she said simply, her voice as flat as the sterile air, "is where we settle disputes."
Her cigarette glowed softly as she took a slow drag, exhaling smoke that curled up toward the blinding ceiling lights. "No cages. No barriers. Just fists, instincts, and will."
Kiichi cracked his knuckles with a loud pop, stepping forward with a grin that showed off all his teeth. His voice rang out across the empty space, bouncing off the walls in a faint echo.
"Perfect. A rookie's welcome."
Zemin's silver eyes narrowed as he took in the scene the vast emptiness, the arena at the center, and the eager stares of everyone else. His chest tightened, not from fear, but from something else entirely.
So this is how they want to test me.
He let out a sharp exhale through his nose, calm yet focused. "Fine. Let's get this over with."
The group began to break apart as they made their way toward the arena. Shuren, Zemin, and Kiichi headed straight for the octagon, their footsteps echoing against the pristine white floor. Meanwhile, the others veered off, climbing the steps to the upper viewing platform.
Taura bounced with excitement, practically skipping as she gazed at the arena. "Man, this is gonna be epic! Rookie fights are always a riot sometimes they even cry!" She spun around, scanning the faces around her. "Right, right?!"
Pixia smirked, hands casually tucked in her pockets. "Depends on who's crying. If it's Kiichi, I'll be all for it."
Tasia laughed so hard she nearly stumbled on the stairs. "Please let him cry. I've been waiting for that since last year."
But as Taura continued to look around, a frown slowly crept onto her face. "Wait… hold on. Where's Lokei?"
Suddenly, everyone fell silent. No one dared to speak.
"…Don't tell me he wandered off again," Taura muttered, shooting a glare at the empty stairs behind them.
Back At The Family Hall
Lokei lounged at the same long table as before, his legs kicked up on a chair, happily slurping a gigantic bowl of noodles. His plate was already piled high with empty bowls, as if he hadn't moved an inch.
"Hah… all that fuss over some rookie and a spar? Please," he grumbled through a mouthful of broth, splattering soup across his chin. "Honestly, they get so worked up over the dumbest stuff. It's like watching kids squabble over candy."
He snatched a dumpling with his chopsticks, shoving it into his mouth whole. He chewed with gusto, glaring at the empty seats across from him as if the food was the only reliable company he had left.
"'Oh look, Zemin's so special! Ohhh, let's all cheer him on!'" Lokei mimicked in a high-pitched voice, waving his chopsticks around like a conductor. "Tch. Give me a break."
He took another slurp of noodles, the sound echoing off the walls. A piece of meat slipped out, landing in his lap. He glanced down, sighed, and then popped it into his mouth anyway.
"…You all can sit around clapping for the rookie. Me? I've got better things to do." He slammed his chopsticks down, stood up with noodle broth still dripping from his sleeve, and threw his jacket over his shoulder.
"Got a mission. Real work. None of this silly showmanship."
Lokei stomped toward the exit, but his foot got caught in the long leg of his chair, sending him tumbling forward. His face hit the table with a loud thunk.
He slowly peeled himself off the wood, completely unfazed, and grabbed one last dumpling from his plate.
"…Totally worth it."
He stuffed it in his mouth, walked off still chewing, and mumbled with his mouth full: "Good luck, rookie. Try not to die while I'm gone."