Chapter 15
Alison kept her eyes on the board. The numbers ticked slowly. Every few minutes, a chime sounded and the screen flashed: "NOW FIGHTING: #2930 vs #2879 — ring B ."
She sighed, shifting on the hard bench.
Her stomach growled but she ignored it. Vending machine food didn't seem worth the gamble. Plus, no way she was walking away from this spot unless her number was up.
" Number #2856 and number #2920 please advance to ring F "
She watched a young man get called , couldn't have been older than twenty-one. He blinked at the screen, then jumped up and sprinted to the ring.
The announcer called out again .
" Number #2981 and number #2898 to ring C ."
" Oh! That's me! "
Alison blinked, then stood slowly. Her heart skipped a beat before catching up. It wasn't fear exactly ,more like nervousness.
She walked down the stadium and made her way towards the assigned ring .
Her opponent was already in the ring, stretching. Some guy with dyed green hair and sharp teeth. Looked like the type who didn't bother with defense that much.
Alison stepped into the ring.
The referee, a bored-looking woman in track pants, stepped between them.
"The match begins in ten seconds , the rules are pretty simple . No killing is allowed, this is a match to show what you're capable of , no more no less . The person who leaves the ring , gets knocked out or surrenders is the loser . Understood?"
Alison gave a short nod while the green-haired guy cracked his knuckles.
The referee raised her hand. "Fight!"
He came in fast, just like she expected; like a wild animal.
She ducked the first swing of his first then sidestepped the second.
He grunted and lunged again, throwing a knee toward her ribs.
She twisted away, and kept her distance, letting him swing and miss repeatedly. And boy , he got annoyed fast.
'Man chill , you're going to pop up a blood vessel at this point.' She thought, eyeing his reddening face.
"Quit dancing!" he barked, charging again at her.
And of course she didn't. Only a fool would do such a thing.
Instead, she let him close the gap between them ,waited for the right timing ,then ducked under his arm and drove her elbow right into his stomach.
He gasped for air , stumbling back.
She followed it with a swift kick to the left side of his jaw which sent him to the ground, unconscious.
The bell rang , signaling the end of the match.
" huh!? A kid did that?? "
One of the spectators exclaimed.
The referee glanced at the unconscious green-haired guy, then back at Alison, who stood still, like none of that took effort, though her shoulders rose and fell just a bit faster than normal. Still catching her breath.
"Medical team to Ring C," the ref said into her headset, then turned back to Alison and raised her hand. "And the winner is number #2981."
A buzzer sounded overhead, and the big screen updated with a soft chime:
"VICTORY: #2981 — ADVANCE TO FLOOR 2"
The referee gave her a pass to the second floor then gestured towards the tunnel's exit. "Go report to the floor staff. They'll show you where the elevator is . Also , don't lose this pass." She pointed to the small slip of paper , then added "some of these guys are petty enough to steal a kid's shot."
"oh, okay thank you." She didn't say anything other than that. Just gave her a short nod and turned to walk off the ring.
As she stepped out, a few murmurs followed her.
"Seriously, how old is she?"
"That guy had at least fifty pounds on her…"
Down the hallway, she handed her slip paper to one of the staffers.
"Congrats. You're authorized to move to Floor 2. You can go straight up now or wait till tomorrow. If you want to fight again, registration opens at 7 a.m. each day."
She took the slip, pocketed it. "Is there any food up there?"
He snorted. "Yeah, not cheap, though."
"Figures." She gave a short sigh and kept walking.
The elevators were at the far end of the corridor, two big gray doors with glowing numbers above them. One had just opened; a boy in his late teens walked out, all bruises and a split lip, but grinning like he'd won.
Alison stepped in and hit the button for the second floor.
As the doors closed, she leaned against the wall, rolling her shoulder. The adrenaline had already worn off. Now she just felt hungry.
And just like that , the evening came.
Alison hopped down from the ring, she has just won another match. Still catching her breath ,murmurs rippled through the crowd. Most were just impressed whispers. A few were more pointed.
"Did you see that kick?"
"She knocked him clean out—"
"Was that a kid? She's like what? ten?"
She didn't bother reacting. Just made her way back to the bench, trying not to smirk too obviously. Her heart was still thumping, adrenaline refusing to fade just yet.
She sat down again. Cold metal under her legs. Her knuckles ached. She flexed her fingers. Nothing broken. Good.
Then a chime. Another set of numbers blinked on the screen:
NOW FIGHTING: #2977 vs #2884 — ring A
There was a pause. Then a loud gasp from someone near the corner of the bleachers.
"Wait—did it say #2977?"
"That's that other kid, right? The white-haired one?"
"Yeah! The scary one!"
Alison raised an eyebrow and looked up. She hadn't seen anyone remotely scary among the other kids. Not since she got here anyway.
But then the commotion started for real.
A small figure walked up toward ring A, moving with that same casual looseness some of the adults had; like none of this mattered, like they didn't even need to try. White hair, blue hoodie, hands in his pockets. He looked about her age, maybe a year older.
The opponent waiting in ring A was tall, broad, probably in his late twenties and ripped. He bounced on his heels, grinning confidently as the kid approached.
"What's this, a joke?" the guy shouted across the ring. "You're sending in kids now?"
The ref didn't respond. Just raised her hand. "Fight."
What happened next took less than ten seconds.
The crowd didn't even have time to blink.
The man lunged. The kid didn't move. Just stood there.
And then—tap—
It happened so fast Alison almost missed it.
One second the guy was yelling, charging in with a high punch. Next second, the kid slipped behind him like a shadow and drove a palm strike straight into the man's neck. Not enough to kill, just enough to snap.
The guy went down. Limbs flopped, eyes wide open but very much unconscious.
The entire arena went quiet.
Then—
"WHAT?!"
"He dropped him with one hit—!"
"No way. No freaking way."
"Another kid! What the hell's going on today?!"
Alison leaned forward, lips twitching.
Okay, now that was cool.
The boy didn't look smug, didn't even smile. Just turned and walked off the ring like it was nothing.
The ref, clearly stunned, raised a hand and called it. "Winner is number #2977."
Alison glanced sideways as the kid came back to the benches, settling down not too far from her.
Their eyes met briefly.
He gave her a nod.
She blinked, surprised. Then nodded back.
She leaned back again, arms crossed, letting the buzz of the crowd wash around her.
People were staring now. At both of them.
"Two kids winning in under thirty seconds?"
"That's nuts. What are they feeding them?"
Alison ignored the chatter. Let them say whatever they wanted.
" I trained for six months nonstop you dummies, well it's not that big of a difference but it's better than nothing "
Still…
She glanced at him again.
He was just sitting there, legs swinging, like this was some school trip. Not a single drop of sweat on him.
The announcer's voice came over the intercom again.
"Next match—number #2972 and number #2910 to ring D."
Alison sighed and leaned back, letting her body relax.
She shut her eyes for a second , not to nap though . Just to conserve energy.
Then her stomach growled again and her hunger intensified even more.
Damn it.
Maybe she would risk vending machine food after all.