Why Have You Come?

In a death match on the arena, only one person could leave alive.

Taegol had fallen, but he was not dead yet.

So the duel was not over.

After a brief, deathly silence, the spectators who had bet on Taegol began screaming like mad for him to get up and keep fighting.

They did not care about Taegol's condition. They only knew that if he did not get back on his feet soon, they would lose a great deal of money.

Yet no matter how they shouted, Taegol could not rise.

Moro's focused strike had robbed Taegol of any chance to fight back.

At that moment, he was like a newborn foal, repeatedly trying to stand, only for his trembling body to crash heavily back onto the arena.

Tap, tap—

Moro walked over.

The soft footsteps rang in Taegol's ears like thunderous drums, like the roar of death drawing near.

He let out a low, ragged roar and struggled desperately to rise. Veins bulged across his forehead and temples.

But the next moment, he vomited blood and staggered back down onto the ground.

An attack imbued with aura, once it struck a weak point, could inflict tremendous damage in an instant and all but declare the battle over.

Taegol knew that very well.

"Length of Life."

It was his Transformation-type ability, essentially a combat ability focused on attacking weak points.

So Taegol knew full well that after being struck in a "weak point," he had no chance of turning things around. He could only wait for death to come.

Even so, he did not want to accept that outcome.

"I surrender, I surrender...!"

Seeing Moro approach, Taegol cried out in a hoarse voice.

Not far from the arena, the referee heard Taegol's words but showed no reaction.

This was a death match. There was no need for a referee.

Moro came to Taegol and watched him struggle futilely, watched the defiance of death in his eyes.

"Not even this much resolve...?"

Muttering softly, Moro reached out and cleanly snuffed out Taegol's last spark of life.

The Lv.5 within the Annual Rings on the back of his hand abruptly became Lv.7.

He had gained two levels in a row, but Moro paid it no attention as he slowly stood up.

Taegol lay silently on the arena, now a corpse gradually losing its warmth.

Many gambling spectators in the stands saw this and immediately cried out in despair, hurling curses at Moro.

Moro ignored the noise and headed toward the contestants' passage beneath the arena.

With victory already assured, he had still finished off Taegol after he had lost the ability to resist...

Even if someone condemned him afterward for going too far, his heart would not be stirred in the slightest.

He had insisted on killing Taegol.

Not because the match had turned into a death match, nor because killing Taegol would let him level up.

It was because Taegol had wanted to kill him.

That was all.

Leaving behind the uproar in the venue, filled with every kind of emotion, Moro walked straight into the passage.

Even so, countless gazes remained fixed on its entrance.

"That rookie... isn't someone to mess with."

A 200th-floor fighter in the stands stared at the passage where Moro had vanished.

He had watched the entire match.

Although he had noticed that Moro possessed an ability that allowed him to adapt and grow stronger in battle, he was still confident he could defeat Moro in an arena setting.

Yet his instincts told him not to provoke Moro.

"Forget it. I'll keep an eye on the other rookies instead."

The 200th-floor fighter quickly made his decision.

He had specifically gone down to the lower floors to watch matches so that he could learn about rookies like Moro and Taegol before they reached the 200th floor, gathering useful intelligence.

Naturally, his purpose was to pry a crucial victory from the hands of those rookies.

Quite a few 200th-floor fighters shared the same idea.

For Moro and Taegol's match alone, more than thirty 200th-floor fighters had come specifically to watch.

After seeing the match, some thought Moro was not someone to provoke. They immediately stopped paying attention to him and shifted their focus to other fighters still striving to reach the 200th floor.

Others felt that Moro's strength was still immature and that they had every chance of taking a point from him.

Those 200th-floor fighters who specialized in targeting rookies did not think there was anything wrong with what they did.

Once they reached the 200th floor, if they did not want to be eliminated and lose their fame, wealth, and status, they had to find ways to win more matches.

They were merely doing things that benefited themselves within the rules.

Of course.

If they were ever forced to the edge of a cliff, with no way out...

They would not mind doing things outside the rules that harmed others.

"You aren't... here to ask me for tuition, are you?"

In the corridor leading to the 190th-floor contestants' lounge, Moro looked at the woman with the long ponytail before him and asked half-jokingly.

The reason he asked—

Was that after introducing herself, she had said she had watched the match just now.

Which naturally meant she had seen the footwork he used against Taegol in the arena.

"How could I be... I don't have that kind of standing."

The long-ponytailed woman was named Calista. Hearing Moro's words, she immediately waved her hands in denial.

Moro smiled. He had naturally seen through her purpose. "You want to know why I can use your footwork, don't you?"

"Yes, but not entirely."

Calista shook her head at his question.

"Ever since I lost to you that day, I've been following your matches. I know you've been learning all this time, learning through your battles with opponents. When I saw you use the 'Leaping Gazelle' footwork just now, I really was surprised. But what I was even more curious about was..."

At this point, Calista's expression as she looked at Moro suddenly turned serious.

"How you can use 'Leaping Gazelle' so well. I can feel it... you must have grasped some kind of trick. I don't know what it is, but there has to be one."

"..."

Moro was somewhat surprised, but he nodded. "I won't deny it."

"Then can you..."

A glimmer appeared in Calista's eyes.

"Are you here for that too?"

Moro suddenly interrupted Calista and turned to look toward the corner of the corridor.

After a brief silence.

A handsome young man with short silver hair stepped out from around the corner.

The man was not surprised that Moro had noticed him, because in his eyes, Moro had become so formidable that he was willing to set aside his pride just to come and find out more.

"Yes. I'm also curious... about that power, something like a wall."

Facing Moro's question, the man first admitted it readily, then stated his purpose with frankness.

"My name is Kashi Toru. If Mr. Moro can clear up my confusion... then no matter what Mr. Moro asks of me, I will agree, and I will do everything in my power to fulfill it."

"Hm?"

Moro looked at the man with some surprise.

Beside him.

Calista fixed her gaze on Kashi Toru.

I miscalculated...

I should have declared my resolve first!