The city never truly slept.
Even after midnight, Sue City glowed under neon lights and restless engines. Beneath all that shine, in a district forgotten by most, another world thrived—a place where fists replaced words and money bought silence.
Jackim received the message just past one in the morning.
> Unknown number: "You've been invited to the Iron Pit. Grand prize — 2 million. Winner takes all."
He knew instantly it was a trap. Only The Wheel could send something this precise.
Still, he typed back.
>"Send location."
Within seconds, coordinates blinked on his phone: an abandoned factory near the city docks.
The System's soft chime followed.
⚙ Quest Unlocked: Survive the Underground Arena.
Reward: Martial Arts Lv.3 + Iron Body Skill + $3,000,000.
Failure: System Level reduced.
Jackim slipped on a black jacket, slid his phone into his pocket, and looked once around his apartment. The air smelled faintly of rain and adrenaline.
Kelvin stirred from the couch. "Bro, tell me you're not going out again."
"I have to," Jackim said, tightening his gloves. "They sent me an invitation I can't ignore."
Kelvin sat up, rubbing his eyes. "Is it The Wheel?"
Jackim's silence was answer enough.
The factory loomed like a giant skeleton—rusted beams, echoing metal, and floodlights flickering through the fog. Cars lined the edge of the compound: matte-black sedans, motorcycles, and a few tinted SUVs.
Inside, the sound hit first.
Hundreds of voices chanting, betting, roaring with bloodlust. A steel cage stood at the center, surrounded by concrete bleachers. The scent of sweat, oil, and burnt rubber hung heavy.
Jackim walked in quietly, eyes scanning. The crowd didn't know him yet, but they would.
A tall man in a leather coat approached—muscular, tattooed, his left eye covered by a silver patch. "You're late."
"Traffic," Jackim said dryly.
The man's mouth curved into something between a smirk and a threat. "Name's Raze. I run this pit. Your sponsor said you're a special guest."
"Who's my sponsor?"
"Wheel doesn't share names," Raze replied. "But they said if you win three rounds, there's a personal meeting waiting for you."
Jackim's jaw tightened. "Then let's get it done."
Raze barked a laugh. "Confidence. I like that. Let's see if your fists can back it up."
The gate slammed shut behind him. Opposite stood a massive man, shoulders like a wall, veins pulsing across his arms. The crowd chanted his name: "Crusher! Crusher!"
A siren wailed—the signal to start.
Crusher charged first, swinging a right hook heavy enough to shatter bone. Jackim ducked just in time, air whistling past his ear. His body moved on instinct, smooth and precise.
> ⚙ System Boost Activated: Reflex Acceleration +15%.
Jackim countered with a jab to the ribs—fast, sharp, perfectly placed. The man grunted but didn't fall.
Crusher roared and grabbed for Jackim's throat.
⚙ Skill Triggered: Martial Arts Lv.3 (Taekwondo form – spinning kick).
Jackim twisted mid-air and drove his heel into Crusher's jaw. The sound echoed like a gunshot. The crowd gasped. Crusher hit the floor, limp.
The siren wailed again—Round One, over.
Raze's voice boomed over the mic. "Winner—Jackim Ochieng!"
The cheers rolled in, mixed with disbelief. Some shouted his name; others cursed him for upsetting the odds.
Jackim wiped blood from his knuckles and waited for the next gate to open.
The next opponent was shorter, compact, with scars running across his arms. He didn't waste time talking. The bell sounded, and he lunged.
Jackim blocked two quick punches but got caught in a sudden lock. His shoulder screamed.
The System flared red.
⚠ Damage threshold 12%. Activating Iron Body Preload.
A pulse of heat spread through his muscles. The pain vanished.
The Grappler tried again, twisting Jackim's arm for a takedown—but Jackim didn't move. The man's expression shifted from confidence to horror.
Jackim lifted him by the collar and slammed him onto the mat. The sound was thunder.
⚙ Skill Gained: Iron Body Lv.1 (Passive Defense +25%)
Jackim stood over the groaning fighter. "Stay down."
The Grappler spat blood and nodded. The ref called the round.
Two fights down. One to go.
Raze met him near the cage. "You've got the crowd. Didn't think some university boy could take hits like that."
Jackim smirked. "University boys read anatomy books."
Raze barked a laugh. "Fair. But your next opponent… he's not human."
Jackim frowned. "Meaning?"
Raze leaned closer. "They call him Specter. No one's seen his real face. He fights for The Wheel."
Jackim's heartbeat slowed. "Good. Then it's time I met them properly."
The lights dimmed, and a figure in a black mask stepped through the gate. His movements were silent, his stance perfect.
Specter tilted his head slightly. "The Wheel sends its regards." His voice was metallic, distorted through a voice modulator.
Jackim cracked his neck. "Tell The Wheel I'm returning the favor."
The bell rang.
Specter moved like smoke—two steps forward, a feint, then a kick aimed at Jackim's temple. Jackim blocked, but the impact stung.
⚙ Adrenaline Boost +10%.
They circled, testing each other. Every strike was precise, every dodge deliberate. The crowd fell into silence, sensing something different—this wasn't sport, it was war.
Specter feigned a punch, then swept Jackim's legs. Jackim hit the ground, rolled, and countered with a strike to the ribs.
⚙ Iron Body Lv.1 engaged.
Counterforce multiplier: 1.8x.
Specter stumbled back. "Impressive," he said through the mask. "But you're still below their level."
"Their level?"
"The Wheel doesn't just want money," Specter hissed. "They want control. You're a bug in their system."
Jackim wiped blood from his lip. "Then I'll rewrite it."
He stepped forward, fists blazing. Punch after punch connected, each powered by both anger and precision. The last one—a spinning elbow—sent Specter crashing into the cage wall. The steel dented.
The crowd erupted.
⚙ Mission Completed: Survive the Underground Arena.
Rewards: Martial Arts Lv.3, Iron Body Skill Lv.1, $3,000,000 transferred to account.
Specter lay motionless. The ref hesitated, then raised Jackim's hand.
"Winner—Jackim Ochieng!"
Backstage, medics swarmed. Raze found him wiping blood off his gloves.
"Who the hell are you, really?" Raze asked quietly.
Jackim looked at him, calm and steady. "Someone who doesn't lose."
Raze nodded slowly. "You've got guts. But The Wheel's watching now. They don't like losing either."
"Let them watch."
As Jackim turned to leave, his phone buzzed. A message flashed across the screen:
Unknown: "The Chairman wants to meet. Midnight tomorrow. Come alone."
The System hummed softly.
⚙ New Quest Available: Meeting with the Chairman.
Risk Level: Extreme.
Reward: Hidden Skill – Negotiator's Edge.
Jackim pocketed the phone, glancing once more at the cage where he'd nearly been killed.
He whispered under his breath, "You want war? You'll get it."
At dawn, Jackim stood under the shower, the hot water washing away sweat and blood. His reflection in the mirror looked different now—colder, sharper, forged by survival.
Kelvin knocked. "You're alive?"
"Barely."
Kelvin chuckled nervously. "Bro, this isn't campus drama anymore. You're walking into something big."
"I know," Jackim said. "That's why I can't stop."
He looked at his reflection again. The System interface hovered faintly beside his eyes.
⚙ Level Up: System Rank 2.
Access unlocked – Business Investment Panel.
A slow smile crept across his face. "Let's see how they handle it when the poor boy starts buying their empire."
The city outside glowed with morning light, unaware that a silent war had begun beneath its surface.