“Y-you crazy bastard!”

Gedrick started to lunge with an angry shout, then flinched to a stop. The jailer was approaching with a menacing look.

“What are you two doing?!”

“Th-that bastard attacked me!”

“He grabbed my shoulder first,” Yuto answered quickly. “It hurt like he was trying to break the bone. So I fought back.”

“What... what? When did I do that?!”

Gedrick cried out indignantly, but the jailer had seen him grab Yuto’s shoulder. After glaring at Yuto for a moment, the jailer spoke.

“If you want to fight, do it during your match. You’re forbidden from laying hands on each other in the waiting room.”

Since Gedrick had touched him first, the jailer made no attempt to escalate the matter. He could hardly beat a gladiator with the match about to begin.

“You... fucking bastard.”

Once the jailer had withdrawn, Gedrick picked up his fallen tooth and glared at Yuto.

“I barely had any teeth left...!”

“Keep it safe,” Yuto whispered, staring straight at him. “You won’t have time to pick up your teeth later.”

He meant to knock out every last tooth Gedrick had left. Gedrick’s face twisted. Clenching the tooth in his fist, he trembled, then licked the blood running from his split lip.

“All right, you son of a bitch. I’ll just kill you today.”

With that, Gedrick whirled around. Yuto gave a faint chuckle as he watched him walk away.

Today was Yuto’s debut in the colosseum. Judging by Gedrick’s remark about not wrecking him too badly in his first match, he had intended to take the fight lightly—but that was not what Yuto wanted.

It was best to assume that escaping the colosseum on his own was impossible. Even if he tried to win over a jailer, Yuto, currently a slave and gladiator, had no way to offer anything tempting enough. The jailers would never betray Evil.

‘She distrusts people enough to use only collared slaves as her guards. She probably has some other way of keeping the jailers under control.’

Under those circumstances, getting out of the colosseum would require help from someone who did not belong to it.

The nobles sitting with Evil in the VIP seats. To catch their attention, he needed to make a strong impression in his very first match. A clap required two hands. If his opponent, Gedrick, came at him halfheartedly, Yuto would be unable to put on an impressive display for the nobles.

They were unlikely to offer to buy him straightaway, but a strong first impression might change even the food he was served today.

‘Maybe I could even get a weapon.’

Fighting without a weapon in his hand felt awkward. However hard he thought, his past would not come to him—but it seemed his past self had fought with a weapon.

‘Probably... a sword...?’

Yuto opened and closed his empty hand. It was probably a sword.

A sword, most likely, but that did not seem to have been all. In fights, in battle... something other than a weapon—someone—had been at his side. A sharp throb struck his head the instant he thought of that person. Yuto clenched his teeth, swallowing a groan.

“Hey, hey...! Newbie, are you insane?!”

Gaon limped over. Lowering his voice, he whispered while glancing at Gedrick.

“Don’t you know who that bastard—fuck, of course you don’t. He’s the one who did this to my leg.”

“Is that right?”

The headache subsided. Steadying his breathing, Yuto dropped into an empty chair.

“Sit down. It’s painful watching you drag that bad leg around.”

“Who the hell are you pitying, you lunatic? Worry about yourself...!”

Trembling, Gaon sank into the seat beside him.

“Gedrick will probably move up to the middle league soon. He’s one of the top handful of gladiators in the lower league in terms of win rate.”

Fear of Gedrick colored Gaon’s voice. Gedrick had mangled his leg in their last match. Listening, Yuto looked toward Gedrick. Seated some distance away, the boy was glaring at him with far more murderous intent in his eyes than before.

“Is that why you came to talk to me? Once that bastard moves up to the middle league, you won’t have to face him again.”

“Wh-who are you calling a coward? I just felt sorry for you and thought I’d give you some advice. If you don’t want to end up crippled in your very first match... surrender as soon as it starts. You’ll get a load of abuse, sure, but that’s better than becoming a hopeless cripple.”

“Am I allowed to do that?”

“No... not normally. But they might let it slide since it’s your first match,” Gaon muttered uncertainly.

“You should at least pretend to fight. Getting branded a coward in your first match makes life difficult in all sorts of ways. They might even put you up against the Mad Fox.”

Rugil approached.

“The Mad Fox? What’s that?”

“An Evomon that made its debut at the last event. I don’t know where they picked it up, but it’s a beast you can’t even talk to.”

Rugil shuddered as he spoke.

“It’s a mindless Evomon, and fucking vicious. In its last match, it tore the other Evomon to shreds and turned it into an Evostone.”

Unlike other races, Evomon did not truly die. Upon receiving fatal wounds from which they could not recover, they reverted to small stones called Evostones.

“The guests loved how savage it was, but for the mistress, matches like that mean a huge loss of gladiators... She’ll probably get some use out of it, then reserve it for death matches. So unless you want to get eaten by the Mad Fox, at least pretend to fight.”

“Pretend, my ass. You think Gedrick will let him? He’ll probably slice the newbie’s leg off the moment it starts.”

Gaon spoke with a fierce scowl. Yuto nodded as he listened to them.

If he failed to prove his worth as a gladiator in his very first match, he would eventually end up in a death match against an Evomon. In the colosseum, what mattered in the end was drawing a crowd. If a coward who could not even put up a proper fight was dragged into a death match and executed by an Evomon, the guests would naturally cheer.

‘Perhaps I could request a match like that myself later.’

Winning one would surely impress the nobles. As he considered this, the waiting-room door leading to the colosseum opened.

“Gedrick, Yuto. You two are first.”

The matchups had not listed the order of the bouts. It was probably meant to put psychological pressure on the gladiators, but Yuto rose without a change in expression.

Gedrick, on the other hand, broke into a twisted smile. The jailer whispered to him.

“Don’t go overboard. Don’t kill him.”

“I won’t kill him.”

Having answered, Gedrick stared at the jailer.

“Going to use it?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Take it easy.”

At Gedrick’s answer, the jailer shrugged and glanced at another jailer.

The second jailer opened a locker on one side of the waiting room. Several weapons lay inside. He took out a sword and handed it to Gedrick.

“Heh.”

Gedrick’s smile deepened. So that was why they had said he would slice Yuto’s leg off: Gedrick had a sword of his own for matches.

“That sword was a gift from Gedrick’s sponsor,” the jailer said, turning utterly unsympathetic eyes toward Yuto. “Depending on how you perform, you could receive a weapon from a sponsor yourself. So fight your hardest.”

“Yes.”

The jailer’s eyebrow twitched at Yuto’s answer. This was his first match, and his opponent even had a real sword. Yet there was not a trace of fear in this young boy’s eyes.

‘How is that possible?’

Even gladiators who had passed the rudimentary test in the prison naturally froze with fear in their first match. The jailer had never seen one who did not. Gladiators they might be called, but every last one of them was a teenage boy.

That made Yuto all the more unsettling. It was not that sheer terror had frozen his expression. His eyes were calm, and even his steps as he passed through the barred gate were light. The boy truly felt no fear at all.

“Starting to regret what you did earlier?”

Gedrick whispered before the door leading into the colosseum.

“If you get on your knees and beg now, I’ll let you off with a finger instead of your leg.”

“Must be that extra tooth you lost. You’re lisping so badly I can’t understand a word.”

Gedrick ground his teeth at the reply. He wanted to swing his sword right then and cut the insolent bastard’s leg off, but he could not do that yet. The match had not begun.

A man in flamboyant clothes stepped onto a platform in the stands. Spreading his arms wide, he boomed:

“Thank you, honored guests, for visiting our colosseum again today!”

There were no referees in these matches. Defeat came only through surrender or unconsciousness. This man was merely the announcer, not a referee. Rather than turning to the stands as a whole, he bowed solely to the VIP seats where Evil and the nobles sat.

Applause erupted from the ordinary spectators. In the VIP seats, the nobles gave haughty flicks of their hands or sipped their drinks in boredom.

“Now, allow me to introduce today’s opening match! Our first gladiator is Yuto, making his debut today!”

At his name, Yuto walked out into the colosseum. Lukewarm applause drifted from the stands. Debut matches were rarely entertaining. The newcomers were too frightened to fight properly, so the spectators expected little.

“And his opponent—a rising powerhouse of the lower league! With a dazzling record of eight wins and two losses! The Cruel Butcher, who never lets an opponent walk away unscathed! Geeedrick!”

Gedrick stomped out into the colosseum after Yuto. Fairly loud cheers rose from the stands, and he raised both arms in acknowledgment.

“He brought a sword? Isn’t this his opponent’s debut? Does he really need one?”

“Must feel like swinging it. At least the first match won’t be completely boring. Poor little brat, though.”

A hint of anticipation kindled in the eyes of the guests looking down into the colosseum. Even the nobles shed a little of their boredom and turned their attention to Yuto and Gedrick.

When Yuto and Gedrick stood facing each other in the center of the colosseum, the announcer shouted:

“Now that our gladiators are here, what more is there to say?! Let the match begin!”

Gedrick immediately kicked off the ground.

“Die!”

Closing the distance in an instant, Gedrick brought his sword down from overhead. His very first blow was a killing stroke. Rage over his broken front tooth had consumed him entirely.

Yuto watched Gedrick’s sword. It was a real blade, honed to a keen edge. His swinging form was atrocious, but a real sword driven home with that much brute force would slice clean through a child’s limbs.

That thought passed through Yuto’s mind with perfect calm. A real sword descending right before his eyes, brimming with murderous intent—none of it disturbed him.

‘I...’

Once again, Yuto felt certain.

‘I know this very well.’

Yuto was calm because he felt no fear.

There was no reason to be afraid. Frankly, Gedrick’s toothless face was more frightening than the sword he was swinging. The blade looked threatening. If it struck Yuto unguarded, it would certainly cut flesh, sever bone, and spill blood.

If it struck him. If it did not, there was no problem. There was no reason to let it hit him, either. To Yuto’s eyes, that sword seemed endlessly slow.

Gedrick’s shoulder, moving before his sword, made the course of his swing plain to see. His weight was pitched forward over his feet. His body leaned at an unstable angle. It was an attack with no thought for what came next. Naturally, he had no reason to think ahead. Why consider a follow-up when he was swinging a sword at an unarmed, unarmored opponent?

Even if Yuto somehow dodged, an awkward evasion would leave him unable to regain his balance, and Gedrick would still have his sword. If he failed to cut him the first time, he could simply cut him the next. Gedrick’s formula for victory was simple, and it could afford to be.

Because Gedrick did not know Yuto.

‘Neither do I.’

Yuto did not know who he was, either.

But of this much he was certain: he knew this well. Not only knew it—he was good at it. Why or how did not matter. Though he did not know the method, Yuto entrusted himself to his instincts.

The body in which those instincts were engraved knew what to do.

Yuto smoothly tilted sideways. It was no sweeping movement that took his feet off the ground. He merely leaned his upper body at an angle.

He trusted his precise prediction of Gedrick’s sword path. Leaning this far would let him dodge without fail.

Knowing that did not mean one could attempt it. The slightest error in prediction or timing would let the blade cut into him. Even the smallest flicker of fear could cause such an error.

Yuto made no error. He evaded Gedrick’s sword perfectly, just as he intended. As a result, the blade cut only air, and its momentum threw Gedrick off balance.

‘Huh?’

No matter how wide Gedrick swung, he could correct his stance if Yuto made a large evasive movement. But now he could not. Yuto had dodged with only the smallest, lightest motion. Gedrick hastily braced his forward leg and pulled his sword upward.

At that instant, Yuto leaned forward. His center of gravity shifted naturally. Before Gedrick could raise his sword and attack again, Yuto’s hand moved first.

CRACK.

The hand holding the sword bent back. The force devoted solely to pulling upward was all too easily twisted aside by force applied from the side. A noise rang from his wrist, followed by pain. Before Gedrick could groan, Yuto’s hand moved again.

As his wrist twisted, his fingers loosened. Yuto slipped his own fingers into the gap.

CRACK.

Gedrick’s index finger bent backward.

“Urgh...!”

Eight wins and two losses, the Cruel Butcher—whatever people called him, his record had been earned against boys of roughly his own level. He had little ability to improvise in a situation like this, and little tolerance for pain.

Unable to hold on any longer, Gedrick released his sword. Yuto took it from him naturally, as though it had been his all along.

His hand closed around the sword with utter familiarity.

“You...”

Speaking softly, Yuto drew the blade through its course.

“...are a waste of a sword.”

SLASH!

Blood spurted from Gedrick’s right shoulder.