The silence in the arena was absolute, thick with shock. Kiro and King Croc held each other's gaze, a current of pure animosity crackling between them.
Finally, Kiro broke the stare, turning his back on the champion the ultimate sign of disrespect to kneel by his friend. Raiji was out cold, a bloody, broken mess.
King Croc snarled, his fury at the interference boiling over. "Stay out of my way, shrimp!"
He unleashed a final, vengeful stomp aimed at Kiro's exposed back. The blow that could shatter concrete landed with a heavy THUMP.
It had no effect.
Kiro, still kneeling, had simply raised his arm over Raiji like an unbreakable shield, not even flinching. The force of the stomp was absorbed entirely by Kiro's body, leaving a web of cracks in the stone beneath his knees.
Only then did Kiro look back over his shoulder, his voice low and deadly serious. "I want next with you, Croc."
King Croc stared, his chest heaving. A slow, predatory smile spread across his face. It wasn't a friendly expression. It was a promise of violence.
"Sure," he grunted. "Get in line."
He turned, the monstrous tension leaving his body as he walked away. He snatched the hoodie he'd discarded earlier from the sand and pulled it on. As he did, the scales receded, his massive form shrinking back to its still-imposing human size.
With Raiji carefully gathered in his arms, Kiro marched toward the arena's infirmary, the unspoken challenge hanging in the air like the dust of battle.
Kiro laid Raiji's broken body on a cot in the arena's medical bay.
THE DOC: (Chuckling as he looked Raiji over) "What happened? Let me guess... lost to King Croc."
In a flash, Kiro's hand was around the doctor's throat, slamming him against the wall. The death glare in Kiro's eyes was absolutely lethal.
KIRO: (Voice a low, dangerous growl) "Patch him up. Or else."
He released the terrified man, who immediately scrambled to work. Kiro then pulled out his comms.
KIRO: "Veyra. I need you to set up an appointment with Doc Brown for Raiji. Now."
VEYRA: (Voice crisp and efficient) "Sure. You've got one."
Kiro didn't wait another second. He strode straight to Midas's office and threw the door open.
Midas was there, along with ten others one covered in blue markings, another in green, the rest in expensive suits. The meeting froze.
KIRO: "Midas. I don't have time for your jokes."
MIDAS: (A slick, mocking grin) "Well, if it isn't the rookie weakling. The one who owes me 100k. What's wrong? Too broke to pay?"
Before anyone could react, Kiro kicked the massive meeting table, sending it crashing into the wall and splintering to pieces.
The men in the green and blue suits didn't even flinch. They simply took a calm sip of their coffee.
GREEN SUIT: (Unfazed) "So, I suppose our business deal is over. The question remains: who will buy half the stock, and King Croc's contract?"
MIDAS: (Waving a dismissive hand) "We'll speak later."
As the investors filed out, Midas turned his venom back to Kiro.
MIDAS: "So, broke and desperate. What do you want? A match?"
KIRO: "Yes."
MIDAS: "No. Get in line. Someone as broke and weak as you will never fight him. You have to be in the Top 10."
KIRO: "Fine. I'm already Top 50. Give me a match with one of them."
MIDAS: "No."
CRUNCH! Kiro punched the wall, leaving a crater in the reinforced material. "I ain't asking."
Midas looked from the hole in the wall back to Kiro's furious eyes. A cruel, calculating smile spread across his face.
MIDAS: "Fine. Defeat the guy in 11th place. Then I'll say yes. If you lose, you owe me one million credits."
KIRO: (Already walking out) "Fine. Set it up. I want the fight in a day."
MIDAS: (Calling after him, his voice dripping with gleeful malice) "The terms have changed! If you lose, the debt is ten million! And you will be my slave! Hahaha!"
Kiro left the arena, his mind a storm of fury, and returned to Raiji's side just as Doc Brown arrived. Veyra was already there, her face pale with worry.
KIRO: "Thanks for coming so quick."
DOC BROWN: "No problem, Kiro. Let's get him out of here."
Veyra placed a comforting hand on Kiro's shoulder. "Don't worry. He's the best doc in the city."
They transported Raiji to the clinic, where he was stabilized and patched up further. As they stood watching, Kiro's simmering rage finally boiled over.
KIRO: "I'm going to beat that Croc into the ground. How dare he? There's a certain point where a fight is over, and he went too far. He's a monster."
VEYRA: "Kiro, stop. That's enough." Her voice was quiet, strained.
KIRO: "No, Veyra! He has to pay! He can't just do as he pleases! His ego—"
VEYRA: "Kiro, please, stop!"
KIRO: "Why are you defending him?! That guy is no good!"
SLAP.
The sound echoed in the sterile room. Veyra's hand stung from the impact on Kiro's arm. She wasn't angry; she was shattered, tears now streaming freely down her face.
Kiro finally stopped, his rage replaced by stunned confusion. "Why... why are you crying?"
VEYRA: (Voice trembling, barely a whisper) "Do you know what Torsten's last name is?"
KIRO: "It's... Crescent, right?"
She wordlessly handed him her holographic ID. Kiro's eyes scanned it, his brain refusing to process the information for a second. Then, the world dropped out from under him.
KIRO: (In shocked disbelief) "Wait... you're Crescent, too. Is he...?"
VEYRA: (A single, heartbroken sob escaping) "Yes. He's my brother."
Kiro sank into a chair, the weight of the revelation crushing him. "So... the same brother who gives you alliance and funds... who buys you things, maybe even spoils you..."
VEYRA: "Yes. It's... a long story."
KIRO: "Tell me. All of it."
Veyra took a shaky breath, the walls she'd built for years finally crumbling.
"Seventeen years ago, in Sky City, me and Torsten were experiments. A government program called Project White. The rest... it's not important."
KIRO: (His voice firm but gentle) "It is important. To me."
She looked at him, seeing the genuine care in his eyes, and relented.
"Our parents were killed when we were young. We never knew how. We ended up in a church orphanage. He... he always looked after me." A faint, sad smile touched her lips before disappearing. "Then the nuns started acting suspicious. Children were taken, one or two each year. Then one day, it was us. They said our bloodline, the Crescent bloodline, was 'good.'"
She skipped ahead, her voice growing tight.
"My brother was experimented on. White V3. He broke out, stronger than ever. He was always a monster in a fight, but this... it made him aggressive." She paused, choosing her next words carefully. "Even after that, a certain old man saved us. I don't know who he was. You might" She cut herself off, stopping short of the dangerous truth about Kiro's grandfather.
"After that, we lived in the slums for five years. The 'Great Escape,' we called it. I don't know where that old man is now."
She wiped a tear away, her story rushing to its painful conclusion.
"Then Midas approached us. He saw how strong my brother was. He gave him a Cube the Crocodile Cube, a transformation type. It made him even stronger. Midas made a deal: fight his way to the championship, make him a lot of money, and we'd be protected. thats the deal, then the Project White V5 the final, long-duration version was released on the black market. It's a risk; it makes the user younger by a month, but we don't know the full cost. The money was good... at first. Then Midas demanded more. More time in the arena, more shows. So Torsten put on a front for the viewers the 'King Croc' persona to make more money. And Midas started using his name as a scare tactic."
In the other room, Doc Brown worked diligently, his presence a quiet testament to the gravity of the situation.
Kiro, who had listened in stunned, careful silence through it all, didn't offer empty words. He simply stood up, opened his arms, and pulled Veyra into a firm, comforting hug.
Kiro's comms buzzed an unknown number.
RECEPTIONIST: "Hello, Kiro. This is the fighting arena. Your match is scheduled. You have one hour to report." The call ended.
Kiro looked at Veyra, a new, cold determination in his eyes. "I have to run. They set up my fight. I'm getting into the Top 10, and I'm going to face your brother. I promise I'll give Midas a piece of my fist, too."
Veyra wiped a tear from her cheek. "Thanks, Kiro. Please... be careful."
"Always."
He was gone in a blur, launching himself onto the rooftops. The city became his personal highway the clatter of tiles, the thud of wood under his shoes, a rapid-fire percussion track marking his path across the city.
In five minutes, a new record, he skidded to a halt at the arena's entrance.
He stopped, not just to catch his breath, but to think.
KIRO: (A slow, cunning grin spreading across his face) "I've got it. Midas loves money. More time in the ring, more 'action'... it all means more credits for him."
His plan clicked into place.
KIRO: "So I'll give him the opposite. I'll end this so fast, it'll hurt his wallet. That'll surprise him more than any punch."
Kiro pulled out his still-cracked digit phone and called Sosiego.
It rang once. Twice. No answer. He called again, and this time, a gruff voice picked up.
SOSIEGO: "Hello? Bounty hunter, right?"
KIRO: "That's right. I need a huge favour."
SOSIEGO: (Sounding irritated) "Like what?"
KIRO: "Can you enter the fighting arena?"
SOSIEGO: "Sure. Which one? But why? I'm not a fighter."
KIRO: "I want to drain Midas's cash flow. You and Neo are strong. You could end your fights in seconds at the rookie level. Is Neo available too?"
There was a pause on the other end, and then a low, dark chuckle.
SOSIEGO: "Bounty hunter... that's not a favour. That sounds like fun. And I do owe you. I'm in. Neo's ready to fight, too. He got that new heart and wants to test it."
KIRO: "Thanks. See you there."
He ended the call, a grimly satisfied look on his face. The plan was in motion.
Kiro stepped into the sandy pit, alone. Across from him stood three fighters, each radiating a different kind of menace.
Midas's voice oozed condescension from the speakers. "Ladies and gentlemen! We have one pathetic weakling who thinks he can challenge King Croc and skip the line! I say no! First, he must beat these three! Then, maybe, we'll see if he's worthy to fight five of the Top 10!"
The crowd cheered, though a murmur of doubt ran through it.
A FAN: "Isn't that too much?"
In the high-roller seats, a drunk the same one who had fought Raiji before sipped his wine. "That scum Midas... What's he planning? Five isn't normal."
A short kid, no older than thirteen, leaned over. "Strange, Vinny. What's your thought?"
VINNY: "Nothing yet, kid."
MIDAS: "Now, for the main event! A 3v1! I call them the Three Flames! Their names aren't important. We have Weak Flame Yellow he's fast! High-IQ-but-Broke Flame Green! And the strongest... Black Flame Rio! NOW... FIGHT!"
Yellow Flame charged in a blur of motion, delivering a barrage of punches and kicks. The crowd roared.
Kiro did nothing. He didn't block; he just absorbed the hits, his body unmoving.
Green Flame hung back, pulling out a powerful shotgun. "Super Bullet!" he yelled, firing a round meant to send Kiro flying.
The crowd stopped cheering, bewildered. Why wasn't he moving?
Black Flame Rio saw his opening and went for a high-speed, fight-ending blow.
For the first time, Kiro moved his head. He looked directly at Rio's chin, didn't bother to dodge, and took the punch square on the jaw.
CRACK.
It was the sound of Rio's hand breaking.
In the same motion, Kiro threw a casual left hook. Rio was out cold before he hit the ground.
Kiro turned and started walking away.
Yellow Flame stared, stunned. The arena was utterly silent.
Then, Kiro became a blur. A gut blow folded Yellow Flame. A spinning kick sent Green Flame crashing into the wall. It was over in less than a second.
Kiro never broke his stride, walking toward the exit.
Midas was in shock, his mouth agape, unable to find words.
The crowd was silent, processing the anti-climax. Then, one man's voice cut through the quiet, full of disgust:
"Midas! I wasted my money on this! It was too fast!"