After yesterday's events, and the ripple that appeared in the space.
Things around Adam will begin to take a different route. The remaining question is:
What is coming? What would change? And what will Adam unravel?.
Adam woke up in the next morning. The memories of yesterday flood into his mind after a moment. The ripple, the crimson reflection in the mirror, the way people looked at him. But he gave no reaction, just a solid state of remembrance.
After that, he finally gets up from his bed, cleans it up and adjusted it. Even though there's nothing wrong with it, just a habit of cleaning and adjustment. He then went to the kitchen, prepared a cup of tea, and two sandwiches of cheese alongside slices of tomato and raw onion. His favourite meal. Then he finishes, and grabs the last of tea and sits on the floor, reading a book about cooking recipes. And after a while, he cleans the cup and dish, puts them where they belong, and went outside. But this time, he doesn't wear a jacket, just his black gi pants that he usually wears all the time, and heads to his work as an Engraver.
At work, Adam done an excellent job. Flawless shaping, perfect handing. Pretty much way better than his partners in the job, that one of them decided to approach him to ask how he does it. No mockery, just curiousity.
They asked how he does it, and this is where Adam just said:
Adam: "…just focus on the job"
And that's it. That's all what he was doing. Just focusing on the job. And nothing else.
After finishing the job. Adam was standing in a line with the other workers, waiting for his turn to earn the money of his work. And when he gets his turn, he sees he've been given more money than the other workers. Adam didn't think about it much, considering that he sees that this is the money of his own work at the job of Engravery. After that, he took a walk into the city. Slow pace, hands in his gi pants, breathing deep yet slowly. Requiem City's air and atmosphere despite smelling like salt and cooper. Still, the sun was casting a mesmerizing hue during it's sunset. After a while, Adam went to an underground fighting arena. A place he goes to everyday to earn extra cash besides his work as an Engraver. And that's when he was watching a match that was already happening.
And that's where the underground fighting arena manager, whom his name is Jack, saw him.
Jack: "Aah. Adam, my boy!. How are you doing?. You know? People kept waiting for you, so, the usual, eh?."
Adam: "Mhm…"
Jack: "Yes!... alright, who do you want to fight? A weakling? Oh wait, you don't lay a hand on those… how about something more… spicy? Hmm? What do you say?.
Adam didn't speak, just kept watching the matches, and after a while, he looked back at Jack.
Adam: "…give me the strongest one here."
Jack looked at Adam like he heard a symphony, but he was also surprised.
Jack: "uuh… you sure you want it, Phantom?…. I mean, no offense. But our 'strongest' here is a literal beast. He basically eats his opponents instead of fighting them… well, not in the literal sense though…"
Adam locked eyes with Jack, but didn't say anything, but then he switched his focus back to the arena. Seeing a towering 9ft tall figure going into the arena. Bulky, veins pumbing in a grotesque way, eyes wild like a predator looking down at everyone like they were prey, muscles radiating power and aura that would suffocate any lesser fighters. And that's where the crowd was yelling one name
Crowd: "BRUTUS! BRUTUS! BRUTUS! BRUTUS!."
But despite all this, Adam's gaze was locked onto Brutus. And despite all what was happening, he was… unimpressed. Like he was already expecting the strongest one to also be the loudest one. Jack looked at Adam. Really, really close. But he was even more surprised from the fact that Adam was unshaken, unflinching. Hell, even his fingertips wasn't twitching in the slightest.
Jack: "heh… y-yeah. That's Brutus… our strongest fighter around here… that's what who you were asking about."
Jack then looks down, but he subtly side-eyes Adam, sweating a little. Cause in his years of managing underground arena fights, usually anyone who asks for the strongest, which is Brutus. They usually try to joke their way out, fall to their knees shaking, or faint from fear.
But not Adam. He was still. Too still for anyone to believe, and even his eyes, his pupils were lazy. As if he knew what the outcome of this fight would be.
After few rounds. Jack looked up at Adam besides him.
Jack: "so, my friend?… your round, should i announce it?."
Jack asked with still a bead of sweat on his forehead.
Adam looked down at him, said nothing, and proceeded to head to the arena. Steps silent, calm, unrushed. Like a mountain unfazed by a storm of wind.
Jack nodded, nervously, before whispering to himself.
Jack: "Yes… right…"
Then he he went to the middle of the arena, yelling just enough for the crowd to hear.
Jack: "Ladies and gentlemen!. Tonight, we have special match that only happens twice!. Because tonight, is the night where the titans clash! Where the beasts feast on eachother! And only one superior predator survive!."
He pauses as he lets the crowd chant and yell. Then continues.
Jack: "Ladies and gentlemen… tonight's match, is one of a kind… BRUTUS, THE UNTAMED BEAST! VERSUS ADAM, THE SCARLET PHANTOM!."
The arena roared.
Metal cages rattled. Voices collided. The air vibrated with anticipation as a towering figure stepped into the ring.
Brutus.
He was enormous. Too tall. Too wide. Veins pulsed along his arms and neck as if his body struggled to contain itself. His breathing was loud, animalistic, wet. He looked down at the crowd not as spectators, but as things beneath him.
The chants began immediately.
"BRUTUS! BRUTUS! BRUTUS!"
Adam watched.
Nothing in his posture changed.
When his turn came, he entered without announcement. No pause. No acknowledgment. Just quiet steps onto the sand, his presence oddly dulling the noise around him.
Brutus noticed.
His grin twitched.
They stood facing each other.
Brutus leaned forward, breath heavy against Adam's face, lips curling as he growled something meant to intimidate. Adam did not react. He didn't blink. His gaze stayed where it was, steady, uninterested.
Jack's voice rang out, barely cutting through the crowd.
The signal sounded.
Brutus moved first.
The ground cracked beneath his charge as he surged forward, arm swinging wide with the intent to end the fight immediately.
Adam wasn't there.
Brutus staggered a step too far, confused for half a second before turning violently.
Adam stood beside him.
Not retreating. Not advancing. Just… there.
Brutus roared and attacked again. Faster. Harder. His strikes filled the space, fists and elbows tearing through the air with enough force to break bone on contact.
Adam didn't retreat.
He shifted.
Each attack passed him by without contact. Not narrowly. Not barely. As if the blows were aimed somewhere else entirely.
The crowd's noise faltered.
Brutus' breathing changed. Shorter. Sharper. His movements grew heavier as he forced himself forward again, swinging wildly now, frustration bleeding into his attacks.
Adam raised a hand.
One strike landed.
The sound echoed unnaturally loud.
Brutus stumbled back.
Just one step. But it was enough.
Silence rippled through the arena.
Brutus touched his mouth, fingers coming away red. His eyes widened. Not in pain. In disbelief.
He charged again.
This time, Adam didn't evade.
Brutus' blows landed.
Again. And again.
Adam absorbed them without resistance. His body moved only as much as physics demanded. When the final strike snapped his head back, the crowd inhaled sharply.
Adam lowered his head.
Slowly.
Nothing was broken. Nothing bled. His expression hadn't changed.
Something shifted in Brutus' face.
Fear crept in, uninvited.
"What…" his voice cracked. "What are you?"
Adam didn't answer.
He adjusted his stance.
The next exchange didn't look like a fight.
It looked like correction.
Adam stepped inside Brutus' reach and struck with precision, not force. Each movement was small. Controlled. Placed where it would interrupt balance, breath, structure.
Brutus' body failed him piece by piece.
A blow to the ribs stole his air. A strike behind the knee dropped his weight. Another to the sternum forced blood from his mouth. He tried to retaliate, but his limbs lagged behind his intent.
He couldn't keep up.
He collapsed to his knees.
Adam paused.
The arena was silent now. No cheers. No chants. Only the sound of Brutus struggling to breathe.
Adam delivered one final strike.
Brutus fell flat onto his back, body convulsing weakly before going still.
Unconscious.
Defeated.
The referee didn't move. Jack didn't speak. No one reacted for several seconds.
Then the announcement came, shaky and delayed.
The crowd erupted, but the sound felt distant.
Adam was already leaving.
He didn't look back.