"Now then, let's not keep our guests waiting," I said with a grin, turning toward the door. "After all, we have a trial to begin."
Behind me, Dina nodded quietly. The worry in her eyes was still there—but I didn't linger on it. My focus had already shifted completely.
The trial.
I knew exactly what was coming.
The Trial of Finger Supremacy… huh?
When I opened the chamber door, a woman stood waiting on the other side.
She had white hair neatly tied into a bun and sharp red eyes that missed nothing. Her maid outfit resembled Dina's, but the style was different—more refined, more rigid. French in design rather than Japanese. Unlike Dina's warmth, this woman carried herself with detached professionalism.
The moment her gaze landed on me, she froze.
Just for a few seconds.
But I noticed.
Her red eyes narrowed ever so slightly, as if she'd sensed something—something off. Something that didn't belong to the Shido she thought she knew.
Then, just as quickly, she dismissed the thought.
She turned around and began walking without a word.
I followed, my footsteps steady and unhurried. Dina walked close behind me.
The corridor was silent.
It didn't take long before we stopped before a large door. The maid opened it, revealing a stairway descending deep underground, the air below colder, heavier—like the world itself was holding its breath.
She stopped at the threshold.
"Please proceed," she said formally. "From here on, I am not permitted to guide you. A mere servant may not enter the family arena."
I nodded once, my expression deliberately dull, uninterested.
I couldn't afford to let anything slip yet.
Without hesitation, I stepped forward and began descending the stairs.
Dina followed closely behind.
And with every step downward, the distance between who I was supposed to be and who I actually was grew wider.
The arena awaited.
After about a minute of walking, a faint light appeared at the end of the passage.
That was the exit.
The moment I stepped through it, the space around us opened up completely.
We were inside a massive, cavern-like chamber—its ceiling so high it disappeared into shadow. The walls were raw stone, ancient and untouched, as if this place had existed long before the nation itself. At the very center stood a vast white platform, perfectly circular and unnaturally smooth.
The arena.
Surrounding it, carved directly into the stone, were elevated stages and terraces where dozens—no, hundreds—of people stood, all facing inward.
All facing me.
Every single one of them bore the unmistakable Urazaki traits: white hair, silver or gray eyes, expressions sharp and restrained. Their gazes weren't curious.
They were evaluative. Judging.
The moment I appeared, there was no cheering. No murmuring. No whispers.
Just silence.
A suffocating, deliberate silence—like predators watching prey step into an open field.
I could feel their eyes pressing down on me from every direction.
Then my gaze shifted to the center of the arena.
Someone was already standing there.
And the moment I saw him, the memories aligned perfectly—slotting into place as if they'd been waiting for this exact moment.
I exhaled slowly.
So this is how they want to begin.
A trial meant to "test" me. An arena meant to break me?
I took one step forward toward the white platform.
And somewhere deep inside, something stirred—quiet, patient, and very awake.
I stood on the opposite side of my opponent, facing him.
Alright… let's see if I've got this straight.
The "Trial of Finger Supremacy"—yeah, that's what they call it here. Sounds fancy, but it's really just a public beating dressed up in tradition. The whole point of it is simple: if someone challenges you, and you share the same bloodline, you "can't refuse."
It doesn't matter if you're sick, scared, or still trying to figure out what planet you're on— if you say "no," you're basically declaring yourself trash.
And being labeled "trash" in the Urazaki clan means losing everything—your rights, your home, your dignity. You become a servant or an outcast.
The elders like to act like this whole trial is about "discipline" and "testing character," but everyone knows what it really is: "entertainment." A bunch of bored powerhouses watching weaker relatives get smacked around for sport.
They call it 'Finger Supremacy' for a reason, too. It's supposed to mean, "You're not even worth a full fight—just a single finger of effort." A nice little insult baked right into the name.
This trials are split into 4 parts with Finger Supremacy being the lowest.
The rules are pretty simple: no outside interference, no weapons unless your ability makes them, and the fight ends when one of us either blacks out, surrenders, or can't move anymore. Oh—and killing isn't technically forbidden, but if you do it, you're branded as unstable. So yeah, I'll try not to kill anyone my first day here.
Heh… first day here. Still sounds insane when I think about it.
Anyway, apparently the previous Shido—my "new body" was known for not having an ability. That's pretty much a death sentence in this family. No ability means no respect, no future, and definitely no mercy.
And now, thanks to whatever cosmic joke this is, I'm in his body… standing in an arena surrounded by people who think I'm about to get flattened.
My opponent? Is my one of my cousins "Urazaki Renji." The embodiment of a walking ego.
He's one of those guys who doesn't need to talk much to get under your skin—his grin does most of the work.
He's among the usual bullies of the previous shido. Renji never physically bullied shido instead he mentally did so by always reminding shido of him not being born with an ability even though both his parents did.
Remembering this information i grinned thinking to myself:
…Yeah, this'll be fun. But immediately i remembered one dimensional rule that being "Never underestimate an opponent from another world with unknown powers or abilities!"
Silence! Is what stretched on in this arena.
I already knew no one was going to step into the arena to explain anything.
That only happens for outsiders.
Every Urazaki child is drilled on the trials from the moment they can walk. The rules aren't announced—they're assumed. And thanks to Shido's memories lining up neatly in my head, I didn't even bother glancing toward the elders' seats or the stands.
No one was coming.
So I kept my eyes on Renji.
To everyone watching, it probably looked like I was staring him down.
In reality, my focus was inward.
I was digging.
Searching through Shido's memories for something specific—something critical.
And when I didn't find it, the irritation slipped out before I could stop myself.
"Fuck."
The word echoed lightly across the arena floor.
What I was looking for was simple.
Renji's ability.
He's my cousin. There's no way Shido didn't know what it was. At the very least, he should've heard rumors, seen it once, something. And yet—nothing.
That memory wasn't there.
I could feel it should be, like reaching for something on a table and realizing it's been moved. I already knew some of Shido's memories were still missing, slowly surfacing on their own time.
But of all moments for this one to be absent…
I clicked my tongue inwardly.
Not knowing Renji's ability instantly made this trial more dangerous.
More complicated.
And yet—
I felt it.
That familiar spark of excitement.
I'd always been drawn to fights like this. The kind anime protagonists stumble into—no intel, no prep, just raw adaptation. Learn on the fly. Read your opponent. Survive long enough to understand them.
So instead of frustration, curiosity took over.
Fine then i'll stall.
I'll observe.
I'll analyze Renji mid-fight and piece together what his ability does, step by step.
And with my ability—the one bestowed by God himself to me—
And that other power inside me.
That second energy I still couldn't fully grasp.
If my suspicion was right…
Then this wasn't just a trial anymore.
This was going to be entertaining.
More than that—
This was the perfect chance to finally understand my own about my ability it's advantages, limits, and weaknesses.
I rolled my shoulders once, relaxed my stance, and fixed my gaze fully on Renji.
"Alright then, let's learn," i said immediately taking a classic aikido stance known as: "Hanmi no Kamae"
Silence.
That was the only thing hanging in the air—thick, heavy, almost tangible. I could feel it pressing down as confusion rippled through the spectators. No one spoke. No one moved.
Then Renji did.
"What?"
His voice was slow, edged with disbelief.
"What exactly are you doing?" He tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing. "A martial arts stance?" A laugh slipped out, sharp and mocking. "Since when did you learn any kind of martial art?"
He took a step forward, his smirk widening.
"Wait—don't tell me." He raised an eyebrow. "Since you don't have an ability, you thought you could somehow fight me with hand-to-hand combat?"
He paused, clearly expecting a response. Some desperate excuse. Some pathetic answer.
None came.
I didn't say a word.
That seemed to irritate him more than anything I could've replied with.
His smirk slowly faded, replaced by a cold, irritated look. "You're not going to answer me, are you?" he asked flatly.
Still—silence.
Renji's expression hardened.
Clicking his tongue, he shifted his posture. His right hand moved behind his back, relaxed and casual, almost like an old man taking a stroll. His left arm extended forward, palm half-open.
Then he pressed his thumb against his middle finger.
At that instant, something changed.
A strange energy began to gather at the point where his fingers met. It wasn't bright or flashy—not at first. But under the dim lighting of the arena, I could see it faintly, like heat distortion in the air. Subtle. Controlled.
Dangerous.
I focused on it, trying to understand what I was seeing.
Then Renji spoke again.
"Let's get this over with," he said calmly. His voice carried clearly across the arena. "As the name of this trial suggests—Finger Supremacy."
His eyes locked onto mine.
"One finger is more than enough to bring you to your knees," he continued, a cruel grin returning to his face, "like the trash you truly are."
The energy at his fingers pulsed.
And just like that—
The trial had begun as renji released his strange energy with a literal flick of his middle finger against his thumb.
Whoosh—
The unknown force tore through the air, slicing forward with terrifying speed, aimed straight at my stomach.
The moment it was released, Renji turned his back on me.
Like it was already over.
Like the outcome was obvious.
Around us, the spectators reacted the same way—some turning their heads away, others closing their eyes entirely, already expecting to hear a scream… or the sound of a body hitting the ground.
They didn't even bother to watch.
My usually drooped eyes narrowed further.
Because I saw it.
Or maybe I felt it.
I wasn't entirely sure which one it was—but one thing was absolutely certain.
If I could perceive it, then I could avoid it.
So I did in the most casually and laziest way possible.
I shifted my body just enough—barely a step, barely an effort—letting the energy rush past me instead of through me.
No panic, no strain, no urgency.
Just enough movement to make it miss.
And I did it that way on purpose.
Because nothing irritates people more than realizing something they believed was inevitable… never even touched or grazed you.
Renji waited.
He waited for the scream.
One second passed. Then five. Then ten.
When nearly thirty seconds went by and he still heard nothing, he finally turned back around—
And froze.
I was still standing there.
Unharmed.
Unmoved.
Hands tucked casually into my pockets, posture loose, relaxed—my usual drooped eyes resting on him like I was mildly bored.
Renji's eyes widened, and the only thing he managed to choke out was—
"What?!"
The word echoed, loud enough to snap the attention of every Urazaki family member watching.
Heads turned toward the arena all at once.
Silence fell.
Mouths slowly opened.
The impossible had happened.
I hadn't been hit.
From the corner of my eye, I noticed Dina standing near a woman with golden hair. Dina's hand was pressed to her chest, her expression caught between shock and overwhelming relief. She released a shaky sigh the moment she saw me still standing.
I met her gaze.
Then I gave her a slow, calm nod.
I was fine.