The abrupt order to undress did not make Yuto hesitate. Whatever his true feelings, he had to obey Evil for now. Her eyes gleamed as she watched him remove his clothes without so much as a question.

“Your body is remarkably unblemished,” she said, looking him over naked. “Not a single scar, and you don't look ill, either. You seem to have grown up well loved. Why were you lying unconscious in the forest?”

“I don't know myself,” Yuto answered politely. Evil stroked her chin for a moment, then nodded.

“Get dressed again and go outside.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

Yuto dressed as instructed and left the room. As soon as he was gone, Evil tilted her head and muttered, “Where did that boy come from? No matter how I look at him, he wasn't born a slave.”

Evil had seen countless slaves over the years.

“He doesn't have a slave's temperament at all. He seems quick on the uptake, but not because someone beat it into him. And the way he moves... A young gentleman trained in a military household...? No, not that either. He looked used to real combat.”

TAP, TAP, TAP.

Evil tapped the foot she had resting on the desk, lost in thought.

“But his body's awfully feeble for that. Really, I wonder what he used to do.”

“Do you believe his claim that he lost his memory?”

“Honestly? No. It's far too convenient. But what does it matter if he's lying? He's already a slave, and I'm his owner.”

Evil chuckled. The choker around Yuto's neck was a magical device for keeping slaves in bondage. He could not remove it himself; any attempt to force it off would make it tighten and sever his neck. Nor could a slave attack Evil while wearing it, and she could cut off his head with a mere twitch of her finger.

“I could torture his secrets out of him... but I'd rather not ruin merchandise with potential. Let's leave him be for now.”

She had plenty to think about besides some slave. Grinning, Evil climbed down from the desk.

“Lady Crimson will visit my arena in a week. You know how hard I worked to arrange this, don't you?”

“Yes, I do.”

Crimson Ringmistress.

A monster belonging to Eclipse, whom even the kingdom dared not move to subjugate. The woman who reigned over the Arena of Blood was everything Evil aspired to. Evil had built this arena and made slaves fight as gladiators because of her dreamlike memories of visiting the Arena of Blood as a child.

'I sent so many invitations, but I never imagined she'd actually accept...'

Even now, it felt like a dream.

In a week, Crimson Ringmistress, the object of her admiration and dreams, would come to this arena.

Compared with the Arena of Blood that Crimson ruled, this place was pitifully shabby. Still, Evil intended to do everything she could to put on a show for her.

* * *

The moment Yuto left Evil's room, the woman waiting outside blindfolded him again. Then she led him away toward some unknown destination.

“You will be staying here from now on.”

Only after they had passed several doors and gone up and down stairs was his blindfold removed. They stood before a thick iron door. A glance around revealed a long row of similar doors.

CLICK.

The woman unlocked the door. Around her neck was the same choker Yuto wore. He had any number of questions, but it was obvious she would not answer them. In the end, he kept his mouth shut and stepped inside.

The room was far better than his previous cell. Evil had not lied about the “reward” at the colosseum. There was a bed in the small room, and a tray on the little desk held food far better than anything he had eaten in prison.

THUD.

The door closed. Only after he heard the lock click into place did Yuto let out a long breath. For now, he sat in the chair and began eating.

'What happened to the others?'

He hadn't even learned their names except for Jackie's, and sharing a cell had not made him fond of them. Still, he wondered what had become of the slave boys.

They probably weren't dead. They would have returned to their old cell to wait for their next chance. Yuto chewed on his lip.

'What was that quest earlier?'

The instant he thought of it, the screen he had seen before appeared in front of him.

[Starting Quest.]

[Escape from this place.]

[Reward: ???]

It didn't seem to be... a hallucination. Yuto stared at the screen as he chewed his bread.

'I understand the escape part... but what's the reward?'

No amount of staring revealed what the question marks stood for. Yuto heaved a sigh. Before he knew it, his tray was empty. Wishing there were more, he smacked his lips and flopped onto the bed.

It wasn't particularly soft, but it was far better than the icy prison floor. He stared at the dark ceiling.

'All I know is the name Yuto.'

Never mind where he had been or what he had done—he couldn't even remember how old he was.

'Let's think about the future, not a past I can't remember.'

Evil had said she would free him if he kept winning in the colosseum. But Yuto was not naive enough to believe her.

'How do I escape?'

As long as he wore the choker, he couldn't defy Evil. Could he assassinate her? Probably not.

'If I hadn't accepted the choker, I'd have died on the spot. I had no choice.'

Just as he continued considering ways to escape, someone in the next room pounded on the wall.

THUMP, THUMP!

“Hey, new guy. You're supposed to introduce yourself when you get here. How long are you going to keep your mouth shut?”

“Leave him alone. He just got out of that fucking prison. He's probably too busy going crazy over the food.”

The second voice came from the opposite wall. Yuto got up from the bed and looked from one wall to the other.

“Who are you guys?”

“You cheeky little shit. That's how you talk to someone you've just met? Who are we? Your seniors, you son of a bitch!” barked the one who had first knocked on the wall.

“Finished eating? Huh? Eat all you can. You're going to lose a few teeth tomorrow!”

“Hey, hey, don't be scared. The asshole running his mouth is a fucking pushover.” The voice on the opposite side snickered. “So, how do you like the room? A lot better than that fucking cell, right? But this place is just as fucked, so brace yourself.”

Compared with the one shouting at him, this speaker was remarkably friendly. Yuto moved close to that wall and asked, “May I ask who you are?”

“Oh, being polite now? So you do have manners. I'm Rugil. Sixteen years old... and my record is... three wins, seven losses.”

“You say that like it's something to brag about. You can't even win half your matches either, so who are you calling a pushover?” grumbled the voice through the opposite wall.

“Your record...”

At Yuto's murmur, Rugil snickered.

“Get ten wins and you can move to a better room. It's fucking hard, though.”

“Heh-heh! Hey, new guy, remember that bastard Rugil's voice. All that kindness is just an act. If he sees he's matched against you tomorrow, he'll be fucking thrilled about the free win!”

“Shut up, Gaon.”

Rugil snapped back. Rugil on the left, Gaon on the right. Committing their names to memory, Yuto spoke.

“My name is Yuto. How long have you been here?”

“Twenty days,” Rugil answered.

“Moron, you're really trying to get him to like you. It's fucking hilarious how you answer every question. How badly do you want to take advantage of the new guy?”

“Just shut—”

Before Rugil could finish responding to Gaon's sneering, someone outside kicked an iron door.

BANG!

“Shut your mouths, you sons of bitches! You want to fucking die?!”

Rugil and Gaon fell silent at once at the menacing voice. Apparently there were jailers here too. Unlike in the prison, however, this one did not come inside to beat them.

'Because gladiators are merchandise.'

Once the angry footsteps had faded, Yuto pressed close to the left wall and quietly asked, “Rugil, what happens if you lose a match?”

“You don't die,” Rugil answered, keeping his voice low too. “Basically, the matches aren't fights to the death. They end when you surrender or pass out. That's not absolute, though. There aren't any rules or referees.”

If you died before you could surrender or lose consciousness, that was the end of it.

“There are death matches, though. Lose too many times or get too badly injured, and they put you in one against others in the same boat. Or make you fight an Evomon...”

“An Evomon?”

Yuto frowned. Losing his past did not mean he had lost all common knowledge. A vague recollection of what Evomon were surfaced. A race distinct from humans. They lived in the wild and would make contracts with humans in order to evolve.

“They make humans fight Evomon?”

“The colosseum's guests fucking love those matches. Neither you nor us have a contract with a constellation, after all.”

Constellation. The moment he heard the word, Yuto clutched his head as an intense headache struck.

“In matches between humans and Evomon, the human usually dies. They give you a weapon, sure... but fuck, how are we supposed to beat an Evomon?”

Rugil's grumbling sounded distant. Yuto gritted his teeth against the pounding in his head. The instant he heard the word “constellation,” a dark emotion had begun boiling deep within his chest. His heart hammered, and his nails dug into his tightly clenched palms.

'Why... am I angry?'

Anger alone was not enough to describe it. This was hatred, far beyond anger. But why? Yuto chewed his lip.

Constellations. They were the creators of this world. Beings one could call gods, watching over all existence from high in the heavens and bestowing their blessings.

Something in that common knowledge felt twisted. The more he thought about it, the more his hatred seethed. Unable to think any further, Yuto flopped onto the bed.

'What... am I?'

No one could answer that question. Yuto stared blankly at the ceiling.

[Reward: ???]

Perhaps escaping this place would bring back his lost memories. With that thought, Yuto squeezed his eyes shut.

* * *

THUMP, THUMP!

The next morning, pounding on the iron door woke Yuto.

“Up, new guy! How long are you going to sleep?!”

The jailer's rough voice rang out from outside. Yuto slowly sat up.

He had pushed down his tangled feelings and forced himself to sleep, and had slept surprisingly well. His “matches” would begin today. He had no idea who he would face, but a lack of sleep would only slow his body down. Yuto knew that instinctively.

CREAK.

A small hatch at the bottom of the iron door opened, and a tray slid through. The meal was much like yesterday's, far better than what he had eaten in prison.

“I'll come get you in two hours. Eat and be ready by then.”

Having delivered his warning, the jailer walked away. Yuto cleaned his tray and began loosening up. He could hear movement in Rugil's and Gaon's rooms, but neither spoke to him as they had yesterday.

They were probably nervous about the upcoming matches. Too many losses meant a death match rather than an ordinary bout. From what he had heard yesterday, both had more losses than wins. Either might suddenly be dragged into a death match today.

Two hours later, Yuto's iron door opened. Surprisingly, the jailer who opened it wore no choker.

'Neither did the jailer in the prison.'

That meant not everyone at the colosseum was Evil's slave. Yet every guard she kept close wore a choker. That alone made her character easy to infer. Fundamentally, she trusted no one.

'Will I have to use a jailer to escape?'

The more valuable he became as a gladiator, the less willing Evil would be to let him go. But that didn't mean he had no opportunities. This colosseum did not exist solely for Evil's amusement. Guests came to watch the matches too.

'I'll think about winning over a jailer later. Right now, my best chance is... to impress a guest enough to make them buy me.'

That would only change his owner, but at least he could get out of here. His mind made up, Yuto stepped through the iron doorway.

Every door in the corridor stood open, with gladiators waiting in the doorways. Yuto looked at those standing on either side of his room.

“...”

Rugil and Gaon. They were in a pitiful state. Bandages were wound thickly around Rugil's left eye, while Gaon stood leaning to one side, unable to straighten. The bandages around his right foot were filthy with yellow pus and blood.

The other gladiators, whose names he didn't know, were little different. Of the twenty standing outside their doors, only Yuto, who had arrived yesterday, was uninjured.

“Follow me.”

The jailer spoke menacingly, a dark club resting on his shoulder. The twenty gladiators followed him down the corridor.

An iron door opened at the corridor's end. Across the spacious room beyond was a wall of iron bars, opening onto the colosseum he had seen yesterday. Yuto swallowed hard and looked through them.

Yesterday, Evil alone had occupied the stands above. Now, a sizable audience filled them. In particular, people whose lavish clothes were obvious even at this distance sat with Evil in the premium seats closest to the arena.

“As you can see, we have quite a few noble guests today,” the jailer said. “Not that they've come to watch the likes of you fight. Still, if you fight well, perhaps they'll sponsor you.”

Grinning, he turned his gaze toward Yuto.

“Oh, the new guy wouldn't know. If the nobles enjoy your match enough to send you sponsorship money, you'll receive suitable perks. Special meals, medicine, weapons, armor—that sort of thing.”

Those words made Yuto understand how the colosseum worked. A gladiator's life depended on noble sponsorship. They might eat better food than the usual fare or receive medicine that effectively treated their injuries. A weapon or armor would improve their chances of winning.

“There's the match schedule. Take a good look.”

A large sheet of paper hung on another wall. The gladiators already familiar with this place clustered around it, some despairing, others rejoicing.

'Gedrick.'

It was a name he had never seen before. As he studied it, someone seized his shoulder.

“I'm your opponent. Nice to meet you.”

The boy stood a full head taller than Yuto. He wasn't particularly bulky, but the gleam in his eyes was unsettling.

“Don't be scared. If I mess you up too badly in your first match, the mistress will give me hell. Besides, we need at least one sucker around here.”

Gedrick bared his teeth in a grin. Several were missing from his crooked rows, leaving gaps everywhere.

Yuto gazed steadily at Gedrick's face. That twisted smile. Those intimidating eyes. Yet he could feel no fear at the sight of that mug.

'Does that mean it's fine if I mess him up?'

Probably. The instant he reached that conclusion, Yuto grabbed Gedrick by the collar and dragged him down.

“Huh?”

As Gedrick let out a startled sound, Yuto drove his forehead into his face.

CRUNCH!

Gedrick screamed after the dull impact. He staggered back, blood dripping from his lips, and another tooth fell out.

“Now they're even.”

Yuto murmured the words as he looked at Gedrick's face, now missing both front teeth.