He arrived in front of a brick building. It was obvious at a glance that it had been around for a long time.

The graffiti had almost completely faded away, and the holes on its sides looked like they had been there for a long time.

He approached the wooden door and knocked twice.

A short while later, a pair of eyes peeked at him through the peephole.

"What do you want?"

A grunted and sluggish voice sounded from beyond the door.

"I heard this is the place to go if you want to make a quick buck... ummm Jerome recommended it."

The pair of eyes looked up and down as they sized Lovell.

Are you disappointed?

Tough luck because I'm not leaving yet.

Lu had told him about this fighting arena.

He was determined to create another source of income to support him, and Lu sarcastically hinted at the notion of fighting for money.

He recalled how Mathius was able to earn a coat in just a few hours after arrival and grew intrigued by the possibility.

He also needed to polish his skill with actual experience, and what better way to accomplish all of that than this?

He had been warned beforehand, though; some of the fights were life and death.

Because of that, most fighters tended to be much bigger.

The peephole closed, accompanied by a chuckle.

The door opened, and the person behind it spoke, "Well, your funeral. Go and register down on your right. There should be a girl there who will give you a number."

Lovell walked through and moved down the short, damaged corridor.

He turned to his right but found no one there. He moved further along but didn't see anyone.

What should I do now?

He waited in the corridor, but it remained silent.

Ten minutes later, a girl came from a room that produced the sound of flowing water.

This caught Lovell's attention, and he turned his head to look at the blonde wearing men's clothing. She had a tired expression. The nose ring was rather unique, and Lovell noted it.

"Hmmm... who are you?"

Recognizing that someone was waiting, the blonde questioned the unfamiliar face.

"Hello, I am Lovell. The guy at the door said I should come to you if I want to register."

She similarly gave Lovell a once-over and repeated the same words, "Well, your funeral."

Lovell's eyes twitched.

No one has any faith in me. Or could it be that I just don't inspire confidence?

He looked at himself and noticed that everything about him was average. He wasn't exactly the best, but that didn't mean he was the worst either.

...

After being registered, he was given a badge with a number on it.

*13.*

He was told that he would have a match in three days. He walked out of the door and began contemplating how he was going to approach his upcoming event.

...

After returning to his shoddy house, Lovell noticed Derek was seated on the ground with a tired face.

He approached him and spoke with a cheerful tone, "Tough day?"

Derek glanced at Lovell and chuckled with a hint of defeat in his voice.

"Do you even have to ask? The job I found may be more suitable for Dreadborn than mundane people like us."

Lovell, intrigued by the story, gestured for Derek to continue.

Apparently, his job required him to put in a few extra hours, and he would always leave at a late hour.

*He's not sharing the specifics though. Better not ask; it may be more trouble than it's worth.*

Lovell left after hearing him out for a little bit. It seemed being able to complain helped improve his mood.

He entered the house and bumped into Weasel.

Weasel had been delegated the role of handling matters around the house. From what food they ate to what person had access to a coat at any specific time.

He had become the one in charge of such things.

You don't even have to go to work like the rest of us. The least you could do is watch where you are going.

Lovell lampooned as he shrugged his clothes and went to go and find himself some food.

He looked through a sack where they kept their potatoes and saw that they had run out.

He cursed everyone who he lives with and left the house once more to look for something to eat.

The humid air in the cave carried all sorts of smells. He was attracted to a particular one that provoked his stomach to make noise.

What is that? Some kind of meat? It smells amazing.

His feet practically hovered above ground as he was swept away by the aroma.

He came before a street stall which was serving kabobs.

"How much are these going for?"

"10 bar a skewer."

This was a price Lovell would normally be against paying and would try to haggle his way down, but now, he impulsively bought out three of them.

A few days' worth of pay was just flushed down his throat.

He cruised through the city with a satisfied grin on his face.

He returned home only after the oil on his fingers was completely gone.

He called it in early and shut his eyes then fell asleep.

...

Early morning, the sun was not even out yet, but Lovell was woken by the sound of footsteps.

Unlike before, he now did not have his own room and was now in the company of about a dozen people.

It made privacy impossible but also made it easier to be aware of other people's actions, like those occurring in his sleep.

Four members of his group, led by Vick, were packing.

Are these guys deserting?

Talk about courageous. Are they trying to simply leave the group, or the academy?

Hmmm... let me watch them.

Curious about what they intended to do, Lovell feigned to be asleep. He heard whispers fly among them.

"I'm sick and tired of this place. We no longer wear chains but are still prisoners. We shouldn't waste any more time. Hurry and pack, we leave now."

The three members passionately spoke. Vick had a frown on his face when he looked at Lovell.

"I thought we were going to be put to death when we were captured. We managed to survive by luck and made it to this weird place. Instead of seeking a way to enjoy our new freedom, we just changed who our prisoner was... to you. Somehow, we have all been dancing to your tune and did what you said without question."

He turned his back to the sleeping Lovell and said, "Now, we leave and will live as we wished."

With that said, they all left the room, in pursuit of their own 'freedom.'

Lovell opened his eyes when he noticed they were gone.

Foolish...