“Jackie.”

Yuto spoke after staring blankly at the screen. Glancing at Jackie, who had just attacked him, he asked,

“What is this?”

Yuto pointed at the screen floating in midair. Jackie could only blink in bewilderment.

“What... what are you talking about? Is there something there?”

Jackie could not see the screen Yuto was looking at. Yuto furrowed his brows at the answer.

“It says to escape.”

“Wh-what are you talking about?”

“You can’t see this?”

Yuto tried tapping the screen with his finger, but although he could clearly see it, he felt nothing against his fingertip. Watching him only bewildered Jackie further. Rubbing his aching chin, he staggered to his feet.

“Are you hallucinating now, too?”

“Hallucinating...?”

“Yeah, halluci—”

As he answered, Jackie lunged at Yuto again.

“—nating!”

It was a surprise attack of sorts, but Jackie failed to catch Yuto this time, too. Yuto shifted slightly aside, and Jackie lost control of his swinging leg and fell flat on the ground.

“Aaagh! Fuck!”

Without so much as a glance at Jackie, Yuto stared at the screen before him. Apparently, only he could see it.

‘A quest...?’

He had no idea exactly what this screen was or why only he could see it, but its message was straightforward. Escape from this place. Yuto looked around.

A proper meal, a bath, a bed.

Whatever bonds had formed from sharing a cell no longer existed. Deprived of everything, their minds pushed to the limit, the slave boys who had been locked in that pitch-black, stinking cell were now throwing punches at one another to win what the woman above had promised.

Yuto watched them blankly. He felt no bond of camaraderie with them either, but that did not mean he wanted to join their tangled brawl.

Was it because he had not suffered enough deprivation? It had only been three days since he woke in the cell, so it was true he had not been deprived as much as they had.

‘That’s not the only reason.’

There was another reason. He just... did not like it. Yuto lifted his head. The blonde woman stood leaning against the railing. Dressed in lavish clothes, she was enjoying the desperate struggle unfolding below.

Her gaze and expression made Yuto realize.

That gaze looking down from above, and the slave boys throwing punches as though trying to kill one another at a single word from her. He hated all of it. Their desperate wishes were merely being consumed as entertainment by that being “above.”

A sharp stab of pain.

His head throbbed. Yuto clenched his teeth and clutched his head. Everything he was experiencing, hurled into this unwanted situation, was prodding at memories of a past he could not recall.

‘I... know what this is like.’

But how? While Yuto stood frozen in pain and confusion, Jackie crept toward him. He had not given up yet. With his scrawny body, he could never be the last one standing, but if he showed he could knock down even one person, perhaps he would get bread a little softer than what they usually ate. That was the reward Jackie was hoping for.

When Jackie’s hand closed around his ankle, Yuto came to his senses. His eyes flicked downward and met Jackie’s. Under that gaze, Jackie involuntarily swallowed hard.

This was the boy who had woken three days ago remembering nothing but his name. He had asked all sorts of questions, but he had followed the rules of the cell without complaint. An inscrutable boy who sometimes clutched his head and lost himself in thought.

How could his eyes be so cold and frightening? Trembling, Jackie could only release the ankle he had finally managed to grab.

“Stay still.”

At that quiet whisper, Jackie nodded, even breaking into hiccups. Yuto took his eyes off him and surveyed his surroundings again. Of the fifteen slave boys, half were already on the ground.

[Escape from this place.]

He still did not understand that screen. But escaping this damned place was something Yuto wanted, too. How, though? He calmly surveyed his surroundings.

High walls, a jailer with a blade, a woman above the railing. Escape was impossible right now. That much was obvious. But apart from that conclusion, Yuto considered what came next.

‘First, survive.’

The last one standing. That was the condition the woman above had set. If he became that one person, he could at least move on to what came “next.” Following her orders disgusted him, but doing nothing would only send him back to the cell.

Just as his thoughts reached that point,

“Raaagh!”

A slave boy charged at Yuto, his eyes stripped of reason by utter deprivation. A fist cut through the air. Yuto did not dodge it. Strangely, he felt no threat at all. The attack seemed terribly clumsy to him.

His body moved naturally. Stepping half a pace forward, he swung his arm just as the boy’s fist brushed his shoulder. His palm shot upward in a short strike and hit the slave boy’s chin.

THWACK!

The boy’s head snapped back with a dull impact. His eyes rolled white and his knees buckled. A single blow sent him to the ground.

“...?”

Yuto was the one most surprised by what he had just done. He had not thought the movement through. The moment he saw the fist swinging, his body had moved on its own. It was his body, not his mind, that remembered how to close in and where to strike to bring someone down in one blow.

‘I know how to do this.’

The past he could not recall lingered in his fingertips. His memories were empty, but something had been etched into his body.

“You bastard!”

Other slave boys charged at Yuto. Two attacked simultaneously from either side.

‘I don’t just know how...’

Yuto slipped to one side and lightly caught the arm of an oncoming boy. Rather than resisting the boy’s strength, he gave a slight twist, drawing him sideways with his own momentum.

‘I’m very good at it.’

The boy Yuto pulled aside crashed straight into the one attacking from the opposite direction. They tumbled to the ground in a tangled heap. Yuto did not bother to do anything more to them. The two had started throwing punches at each other.

The last one standing. That condition had narrowed the slaves’ vision. Everyone but themselves was an enemy. That meant Yuto did not need to knock everyone down himself. He could leave them to fight one another and deal only with those who came at him. Slowly, he backed away from the center of the brawl.

Another slave boy charged at him. Once again, the arm swinging amid furious screams looked clumsy. The boy was putting everything into it, but his strength was being wasted. Yuto’s movements, by contrast, were different. He redirected his opponent’s force, then drove a fist into the point where his balance broke.

As though wielding a sword.

‘A sword...?’

The word flashed through his mind. His hands held nothing, yet the sensation of gripping something remained vivid in his palm. Something familiar, weighty, and sharp. Something that had been with him for a long time.

Another stab of pain.

His head hurt again. Yuto clenched his teeth and pushed the pain aside. Now was not the time to search his memories.

“Hah, hah...”

Before he knew it, every boy except Yuto and one other was on the ground. The last slave boy standing was the one who had started this desperate brawl—the boy who had been imprisoned longest and deprived the most. With everyone else down in the colosseum, he charged at Yuto with bloodshot eyes.

“Aaaaah!”

Desperation drove him forward. He spread both arms, trying to wrap Yuto in a full-body embrace. He meant to cling to him and drag him down to the ground.

Desperate desire could sometimes make the impossible possible, but it did not do so for this boy. A casually extended foot tripped him. As he pitched forward, Yuto’s hand touched his back.

THUD!

With that downward pressure added, the boy’s body slammed into the ground.

“Gah!”

The impact coursing through his body knocked the breath out of him, but even as he gasped, the boy planted his hands on the ground and tried to rise. Yuto crouched and placed a hand on his head. The steady pressure pushed him flat again.

“Stop,” Yuto said quietly.

“You can’t get up.”

Despair slowly filled the slave boy’s bloodshot eyes. His struggles subsided. At last, his strength drained away, and he lay limp on the ground.

Now Yuto was the only one standing in the colosseum.

“Wow!”

Applause erupted from above the railing.

“Well, aren’t you a find? What are you?!”

The blonde woman leaned out over the railing, her face alight with excitement. Her eyes glittered as she examined Yuto.

“They said you’d lost your mind. Was that a lie? You look used to fighting, too. Where the hell did you come from?”

Yuto stared at her without answering. His silence and his gaze made the jailer’s eyebrow twitch. If a mere slave dared to behave so disrespectfully, the punishment would fall on the jailer. He immediately approached Yuto to beat him, but the blonde woman raised a hand to stop him.

“No need for that. A bit of insolence adds to his value as merchandise.”

With that, the blonde woman vaulted over the railing. A gentle wind enveloped her as she dropped from the high wall. She landed without a sound and approached Yuto with a bright smile.

‘That power...’

The wind that had enveloped her. Yuto clenched his fists without realizing it. Though she approached without a single weapon, she radiated an oppressive presence. His instincts warned him not to dare confront her now.

“Ugh, you’re so filthy and smelly I can’t even touch you.”

She stopped a short distance away, her face contorted in disgust. Then she slowly looked him over, nodded, and turned on her heel.

“A promise is a promise. Follow me.”

Yuto stared at her back for a moment. If he overpowered her and took her hostage, could he escape this place? He briefly considered it, but soon concluded it was impossible. That “power” was not something he could contend with as he was now. In the end, he followed her without a word.

An iron door opened—not the one Yuto had entered through. The moment he passed through it with the blonde woman, another woman waiting inside took hold of him.

“Wash him thoroughly and change his clothes. Then bring him to my room.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

The woman bowed respectfully as she answered. Without looking back at Yuto, the blonde merely raised a hand and waved.

“You don’t need to eat right away, do you? See you later, little one.”

As soon as she was gone, the other woman dragged Yuto away. She said nothing to him, simply carrying out her mistress’s instructions.

After he had been washed clean and dressed in fresh clothes, Yuto was blindfolded as well and led down a corridor. They walked for quite some time before the woman stopped.

“Mistress. I have brought the slave.”

“Come in.”

The door opened, and only after they stepped inside was his blindfold removed. Yuto swallowed hard and looked ahead. In the lavish room, the blonde woman sat on the edge of an expensive-looking desk, with expressionless guards standing behind her.

“Hmm, I thought you had a decent face earlier. But you look even better washed and dressed. You’re going to be popular.”

The woman grinned.

“Your name is Yuto, right? Mine is Evil. As you can see, I’m your owner.”

Yuto remained silent, briefly considering what he should say. Just as Evil’s eyes began to turn cold, he bowed his head.

“All I remember is the name Yuto. I know nothing else.”

“So you can talk after all? Good thing, too. If you’d kept your mouth shut, I was going to pull your tongue out.”

The chill vanished from Evil’s expression, and she grinned.

“You know nothing but your name... You fought awfully well for someone like that.”

“My body moved on its own.”

“Hmm, really? Whether you’re telling the truth or lying isn’t particularly important. What you do need to remember is that I own you.”

Evil stepped down from the desk.

“Oh, don’t worry. Yes, you’re a slave now, and I’m your owner, but it won’t necessarily stay that way. Depending on what you do, you might stop being a slave.”

Evil went around behind the desk, opened a drawer, and took out a golden stamp to show Yuto.

“Know what this is? A slave brand that marks you as my property. But I haven’t branded you. Why do you think that is?”

“I don’t know.”

“It means you can be free someday. Once a brand is applied, it’s hard to remove. So I’ve mercifully spared you the branding.”

Evil chuckled, then opened another drawer and took out a jet-black choker.

“Ah, but I still need to keep you under control. While you’re a slave, you’ll wear this choker. It’s nothing much. We can’t have a slave daring to attack his owner, can we?”

Evil handed the choker to a guard standing behind her. The guards wore identical chokers around their necks. Noticing Yuto’s glance at him, Evil burst out laughing.

“These ones never earned their freedom. But I think you might be able to. I’m not lying. I mean it.”

The guard holding the choker approached Yuto. His eyes held no resentment toward Evil; they were the eyes of a slave whose spirit had been utterly broken. Yuto accepted the choker without resisting, then spoke.

“What must I do to stop being a slave?”

“I like your enthusiasm. Oh, haven’t I told you where you are yet? This is a colosseum.”

CLICK.

The choker fastened around Yuto’s neck.

“I’m your owner, and the owner of this colosseum. Slaves just like you fight here as gladiators. What must you do to stop being a slave? It’s simple. Keep fighting and winning. Keep winning until there’s no one left for you to fight, and I’ll give you your freedom.”

Though he knew it was an obvious lie, Yuto bowed his head.

“I will do my best.”

“Doing your best isn’t enough. Remember, before you’re a gladiator, you’re my slave. And a slave must obey his owner’s commands.”

Evil’s red lips curved into a grin.

“First, take off your clothes.”