The house was unusually quiet.
Erika stood near the lab door, her hand hovering just inches away from the control panel. The door lights blinked softly, responding to her presence—but she didn't open it yet.
Behind her, hurried footsteps echoed.
"Erika!"
Scott's voice cut through the silence. He sounded urgent.
She turned.
"What is it?"
"We have to go to the underground," Scott said quickly. "Right now."
Erika frowned slightly.
"The underground? Now?"
"Yes," Scott insisted. "It's been days since we last went. Something feels off."
Erika hesitated. Her eyes shifted toward the lab door again.
"I don't think I can come," she said slowly. "Uncle told me he needs to run more experiments on the watch."
Scott blinked.
"But you're not even wearing it."
"I know," she replied. "That's the point. The watch only works properly when I'm near it. If I leave, the readings go unstable."
Scott sighed, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Still… we need you there."
There was a brief pause.
Erika exhaled.
"…Alright," she said. "But only for a while."
Scott's face lit up.
"Good. Let's go."
She took one last glance at the lab door—then turned and followed him.
The Underground
The underground welcomed them with its usual dim lights and echoing sounds—but something was different.
The energy felt heavy.
As Erika and Scott entered, Sherlin noticed them first.
She lifted her hand and waved.
Erika waved back with a small smile.
Scott followed, waving awkwardly at the group.
Everyone greeted them—everyone except Simon, who deliberately looked away. Erika noticed but didn't react.
Sherlin stepped closer.
"You've been gone for a while," she said.
Erika nodded.
"Yeah. Things got complicated."
Sherlin studied her face.
"How are you feeling?"
"Better than before," Erika replied honestly.
Sherlin smiled faintly.
"That's good."
There was a brief silence.
Then Erika spoke again.
"So… what did I miss?"
Sherlin didn't answer immediately.
Instead, her eyes drifted toward the ring.
The underground didn't feel the same anymore.
Even before Skull Striker entered the ring, something had shifted. The usual noise—the laughter, the taunts, the casual confidence—had dulled. Fighters stood in small clusters, talking in low voices, eyes drifting again and again toward the ring.
Sherlin noticed it immediately.
She had been here long enough to recognize fear—not the loud kind, but the quiet one. The kind that makes people hesitate before stepping forward.
"He's not like the others," Sherlin said softly, standing beside Erika.
Erika glanced at her.
"What makes you say that?"
Sherlin folded her arms, her eyes never leaving the ring.
"Most fighters here are brutal," she continued. "Some are fast. Some are strong. But they all fight to win."
She paused.
"He fights to finish."
Erika's expression sharpened slightly.
Sherlin went on.
"When he arrived, no one took him seriously. Quiet guy. No history. No reputation."
She exhaled slowly.
"That changed after his first fight."
Sherlin remembered it clearly.
No crowd. No hype. Just another match.
Until it ended.
"One strike," Sherlin said. "Not flashy. Not reckless. Just… accurate."
She clenched her fist unconsciously.
"The guy he fought didn't get up for a long time. And it wasn't because of damage—it was because he didn't expect it. None of us did."
Erika listened carefully.
"After that," Sherlin said, "fighters started avoiding him. Some pretended to be injured. Some skipped practice days. Some suddenly 'retired' from weekly matches."
She let out a short, humorless breath.
"They won't say it openly. But I see it."
Erika looked around.
She saw it now—the way conversations stopped when Skull Striker's name was mentioned. The way eyes dropped. The way confident stances softened into defensive ones.
"He doesn't shout," Sherlin added. "He doesn't threaten. He doesn't even look angry."
That unsettled her the most.
"He just watches."
There was a brief silence.
"Fear spreads faster than respect," Sherlin said. "And right now, he has both."
Erika nodded slowly.
"That's why they let him choose his opponent," she said.
Sherlin looked at her.
"Yes."
"And that's why no one else wanted that fight."
Sherlin didn't deny it.
the referee stepped into the ring.
"Tonight's match," the voice echoed, "features our champion of the week—Skull Striker!"
The crowd reacted—but not with cheers.
With tension.
Then the next words dropped like a blade.
"And his chosen opponent is—Erica."
Scott froze.
"What?" he whispered. "He chose you?"
Erica didn't answer.
"When he chose you," she admitted, "some people were relieved. Others were shocked."
She hesitated.
"And some were afraid for you."
Erika didn't respond immediately.
She kept her eyes on the ring.
"Fear doesn't come from strength alone," Erika finally said. "It comes from unpredictability."
Sherlin glanced at her.
"And?" she asked.
Erika's lips curved slightly—not into a smile, but something sharper.
"And that kind of fighter always has a reason."
The underground grew louder as the announcement neared.
But the fear didn't leave.
It waited.
At first glance, Skull Striker looked ordinary.
No intimidation.
No arrogance.
Just stillness.
The match began.
And then—
Erika realized something was wrong.
He moved like her.
Not copying—but anticipating.
Some of her techniques mirrored back at her, slightly altered. Less refined—but familiar.
The fight intensified.
Blocked strikes.
Close counters.
Moments where prediction replaced reaction.
Minutes passed.
Then Erika shifted.
One clean sequence.
One decisive finish.
Skull Striker went down.
Silence flooded the underground.
Erika stood still, breathing evenly.
She looked at him.
"Where are you from?" she asked. "You're not from here."
Skull Striker slowly stood up.
"We have a lot to talk about," he said quietly.
Erika's eyes widened—just a little.
The fight ended. Scott was so happy and told Erika that he observed every moves in this match. He asked to Erika " How did you did this?"Erika replied " I'm a general man don't forget it.
As the skull striker walked past her and left the underground, Erika watched him closely.
Sherlin approached.
"Do you know him?" she asked.
Erika shook her head.
"No," she said.
"But I will."
And somewhere deep in the underground, the fear remained—
not gone.