Chapter 95: Underground Arena (1)
Most who flock to the Dark City Kalbaron are criminals.
With nowhere else to go, they escape and end up in this hellish pit.
But even this worldly hell is a city built by people.
Kalbaron’s residents, like those in the outside world, seek food, drink, and entertainment.
And…
“The underground arena is the pinnacle of Kalbaron’s entertainment. Absolutely.”
A bald man, a long-time arena gatekeeper, spoke with pride.
His words were true.
The thrill and ecstasy of “no-rules fighting” unseen in other cities.
Astronomical fight money that ordinary people could never dream of witnessing.
Gambling dens with sums so vast they dwarfed the fight money, plus alcohol, cigarettes, drugs, and women to satisfy all senses.
The underground arena was the very identity of Kalbaron’s outer district.
“But I still don’t get it.”
“What?”
“No rules means you could die fighting. It’s like the slave gladiator arenas abolished long ago… Why would anyone risk that to compete? I don’t understand.”
“Tch. You really don’t get it.”
The veteran gatekeeper clicked his tongue at the newbie’s question.
It wasn’t an unreasonable question.
Even if Kalbaron was filled with madmen hungry for blood and thrills, the arena saw countless injuries and deaths daily.
Logically, finding fighters should be difficult.
But…
“If you shine here and catch the eye of one of Kalbaron’s five major guilds, you could earn the right to live in the inner district.”
“…!”
“How’s that? Tempted now?”
Hearing the veteran, the newbie nodded frantically.
What was the most important thing for Kalbaron’s residents?
Safety.
Though they’d committed heinous crimes to end up here, ironically, even they craved a safe, prosperous life.
Living without fear of being stabbed or poisoned was the long-held dream of the outer district’s people.
‘It makes sense. The underground arena is funded by the five major guilds, so it checks out!’
Gulp, the newbie swallowed hard, eyes gleaming.
He’d only been in Kalbaron for three months, but he was confident in his skills.
Rather than living as a lowly gatekeeper in the filthy, dangerous outer district, competing in the arena for a big break didn’t seem bad.
Then, a cold-faced swordsman approached from afar.
Meeting his gaze, the newbie froze, unable to speak.
His rigid face looked ready to cry from fear.
“…Welcome. It’s registration time… Are you here to register?”
The veteran took over for the frozen newbie.
The swordsman nodded silently.
Nodding back, the veteran said,
“Go inside and head right; you’ll see a building. Go to the second basement floor and wait with the other candidates.”
“I’ll do so.”
With a brief reply, the swordsman entered.
The veteran finally exhaled his held breath.
He glanced at the newbie, still in shock and fear.
A mocking remark slipped out.
“You, compete in the arena? Forget it.”
“…”
“Did you see? Even a guy with that crazy aura is a newbie here. Sure, he looks like he’ll reach the deepest floors soon… but this place is crawling with monsters. Get involved, and at best you’re crippled, at worst you’re dead. Got it?”
“…Yes, I was shortsighted.”
“Right. For guys like us, gatekeeping is enough. Being part of the arena makes us safer than others, so let’s live long and thin… Hmm?”
As the veteran lectured, someone else approached.
A black-haired youth, from head to toe, with a cold expression like the swordsman before.
But something was off.
Hard to explain.
If forced to describe it… like a child mimicking an adult, wearing ill-fitting clothes?
He looked like a puppy imitating a beast, so a faint smirk crossed the veteran’s lips.
He spoke.
“Here to register?”
“Yes.”
“Go inside. The waiting room’s on the second basement floor to the right. Wait for the examiner.”
“Understood.”
With that, the black-haired youth disappeared inside.
The newbie, watching where he went, asked.
“What about this one?”
“What?”
“Is he someone impressive too?”
“Did he look that way to you?”
“No. He seemed clumsier than me… or not?”
“You’re right. That’s part of the arena’s charm—guys like him show up. He probably won’t even pass registration. Or… he might die.”
“…”
“Anyway, drop your dreams. Got it?”
“…Got it.”
The newbie nodded glumly.
They stood silently, staring ahead, only speaking mechanically when greeting new registrants.
‘…Like moths to a flame.’
The newbie thought of the swordsman.
Unless you were that skilled, you’d just burn to ash in the flames.
***
‘How do you do it?’
Walking toward the right building, I frowned in thought.
Ulrik’s “looking impressive” was entirely different from projecting presence with Aura.
Creating a “strong aura” without any Aura assistance made it even more valuable.
‘If I combined looking impressive with Aura-based presence, I could pressure opponents even more.’
But I couldn’t do it yet.
I’d tried it on the gatekeepers, hoping it’d work, but they just smirked.
‘It’s much harder than hiding my presence or acting lowly. Why? Those induce carelessness, while this is the opposite?’
That seemed to be it.
As I struggled with this rare obstacle, Ulrik, who’d passed through the door first, approached me.
“What’re you doing?”
“Huh? Oh, just thinking…”
“Come on, hurry up.”
“Hmm? Isn’t the registration test in 30 minutes? We can take our time…”
“True, but going now gives us an advantage.”
“Does timing affect advantages?”
“…I’ll explain briefly.”
“Alright.”
“Talk while we move.”
Ulrik looked more exasperated.
Seeing this, I shelved my questions and followed him.
Soon, he explained.
“Why do you think I came to register this week, not last?”
“No idea.”
“Of course, you wouldn’t know. You’re not a Kalbaron resident. Even locals wouldn’t unless they’re as savvy as me.”
“I see.”
“…Anyway, I know who’s testing today. Clio, a lazy guy. Instead of one-on-one tests, he groups people for quests because it’s bothersome.”
“Groups?”
“Yeah. He forms parties of about five and gives a quest. The whole party passes if they succeed, fails if they don’t… Party luck is crucial. The stronger your teammates, the higher your chances.”
“How many teams usually pass?”
“Two at most, one at least.”
“That’s low… So, going to the waiting room now means we can get strong teammates?”
“Exactly. The three who went in before us—know who they are?”
I shook my head.
“Don’t know.”
“Of course, you don’t. You’re not a resident… But I know. They’re called Bloodbath, Ashheap, and Ironhammer. They’re strong enough to chew up most guys here, unless you’re in the arena’s deep floors. We need to join their party…”
“Join their party?”
“To do that, we need to get to the waiting room now and grab a number. They group five to seven people by entry order.”
“Oh.”
Now I understood.
Why Ulrik only moved after Bloodbath, Ashheap, and Ironhammer entered consecutively.
‘To be in their party!’
I also got why he was rushing.
If someone else reached the second basement waiting room first, his plan could fall apart.
“Damn! There—three… no, four guys coming at once. Hurry! We need to beat them to the number!”
“Got it.”
Ulrik urged again, his voice frantic.
Yet, even in his urgency, his expression and aura made it feel like we were being chased by ancient demons or dragons.
What a terrifying ability.
‘I really want to learn it. Should I ask later?’
Thinking this, we hurried to the second basement.
We got numbers 79 and 80.
Since Bloodbath, Ashheap, and Ironhammer were 76, 77, and 78, Ulrik’s plan had mostly worked.
“Alright, we’re set.”
“Looks like it.”
“Heh, how’s that? I, Ulrik, a veteran who survived 15 years in Kalbaron… This level of strategy is nothing. Stick with me, and you’ll reach the arena’s deepest floors with ease.”
“Thank you.”
“Yeah, you should be thankful. So, instead of just words, how about a small fee…”
His soft voice droned on about money.
I could only listen blankly.
Complex terms, like those in Sheratiya’s documents, poured out like a waterfall.
All I could do was nod dumbly.
By now, Ulrik’s teaching of “Don’t trust anyone in Kalbaron!” had flown far from my mind.
Then, the time came.
Registration closed with the 100th candidate.
A minute later, the examiner entered.
Yawning lazily, he scanned the arena hopefuls with a bored expression and spoke.
“Start fighting each other now.”
“…”
“…”
“…What?”
“Are you deaf? Fight each other. No teams, just punch and brawl with anyone. Then… yeah, five. When exactly five people are left standing, one of you come find me.”
“…”
“…”
“…”
“Good luck.”
Thud.
With that, the examiner closed the waiting room door and left.
I turned to look at Ulrik.
“…This is unexpected.”
His aura remained solemn and majestic.