As they made their way to the Battleground, Bob glanced at Joe with concern. “By the way, what happened to your face? I don't remember you getting hit once when you fought Kyle.” He leaned closer to inspect the bruise on Joe’s cheek.
“I fell,” Joe replied flatly.
“Must’ve been a nasty fall to leave you that banged up,” Bob said. He didn’t sound convinced.
“It was. It’s not too bad though. I’ll survive.” Joe’s expression hardened. His voice dropped as he thought about how he would beat Steve the next time they met.
Bob noticed the shift and looked uneasy.
They exited the prison building and stepped into the open yard of Suveny Station. Joe exhaled as the afternoon sun warmed his skin. He closed his eyes and spread his arms slightly, letting the heat settle into him. With his Blessed Physique, the sunlight no longer burned him. He could stand there without worrying about blisters or scorched flesh.
“What are you doing? Let’s go,” Bob called from ten meters away, waving him over.
Joe smiled and walked toward him as they approached the Battleground.
When they arrived, Joe paused. In the middle of the yard, surrounded by grass and low buildings, stood a large square stone platform. More than thirty inmates stood inside it while the rest formed a circle around the stage. It was preparation for a chaotic battle royal. Cheers erupted as spectators shouted for their favorites.
“This is the Battleground?” Joe asked, glancing at Bob.
“Yep.” Bob grinned. “All the prisoners from the Eastern Section fight here for a chance to win a week’s supply of the Smiling Devil and the right to challenge our King.”
Joe raised an eyebrow. ‘A week’s supply? That’s a lot of drugs.’
“What do you mean Eastern Section? Isn’t this the whole prison?”
Bob shook his head. “Suveny Station is divided into five sections. East, West, South, North, and Central. We’re in the East. Each section has its own King, but one person rules over all of them. The Emperor of Suveny Station. Ace.”
Joe’s eyes widened. ‘The Emperor of the entire station… I’d bet he’s the source of the Smiling Devil. I need to get close to him.’
“You said the winner gets to fight the King. Who is it?” Joe asked.
“That would be me.”
A massive, heavyset man loomed behind them. Big Dog.
“Boss,” Bob said quickly, dropping to his knees and pulling Joe down with him. “I hope the King is having a pleasant day.”
Joe knelt beside him, disappointed. He knew Big Dog had influence, but he had not expected him to rule the entire Eastern Section.
“I am,” Big Dog replied with a smile. He glanced at Joe. “Looks like you finally taught your bitch some manners.” He gestured lazily. “Stand.”
They obeyed. Big Dog pulled out a small bag of Smiling Devil and handed it to Joe. “You’re participating in the tournament. Take this. It’ll get you in the mood.”
Joe stiffened. He had planned to join, but he didn’t like being ordered into it.
“I don’t need pills to fight,” he said.
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
“I don’t care what you need. You’ll take them because I said so.”
Bob pinched Joe’s arm, urging him to comply. After a moment, Joe accepted the bag.
“You want me to use it now?” he asked.
“Yes. The battle royal starts soon. I want to see how you handle it.”
Joe poured the powder onto his hand and inhaled it. Energy surged through him, but he immediately activated [Spirit Flow], guiding his essence through his body. The spirit energy carried a cleansing effect. Within seconds, it flushed the drug from his system.
He kept his expression steady and met Big Dog’s gaze.
Big Dog grinned. “Not bad. Most amateurs scream and turn red when they take that. Maybe you’re not as weak as I thought.” He nodded once, then walked past them. “Bob, get my chair.”
“Right away, Boss.” Bob hurried off.
Shelly, who had been holding Big Dog’s hand, tugged his sleeve. “Go ahead. I need to tie my shoelaces.”
“You don’t have to. I can have one of these losers do it.”
“It’s fine honey. I’ll be quick.”
Big Dog shrugged and walked away.
Shelly stepped beside Joe and slipped something into his pocket. “Use this for your injuries.”
Joe didn’t need to check. The container felt like ointment. “What about you?”
“I’m lending it to you. Give it back later.” She knelt to tie her laces.
“Are you worried about me?” Joe asked with a grin.
“Not really,” she said coldly. “If you walk around looking like that, people will think you’re weak and pick on you.”
“So you are worried.”
“I’m repaying yesterday’s favor. That’s it.”
“Thanks. I’ll use it.”
“What happened to your face? Did you get into a fight already?”
“Yeah. Something like that.” Joe knew it wasn't much of a fight as Steve dominated their encounter throughout but he wasn't about to tell her that.
“And you were talking big about beating Michael. If you can’t even handle the small fry, you have no chance against him.”
“I wasn’t talking big. I could’ve beaten him.”
“Sure. Michael would destroy you.”
“I’ll prove it by winning this tournament.”
“You must be high on that pill already. Keep those words to yourself or next time you’ll suffer more than bruises.”
She stood to leave. Joe grabbed her sleeve. “Wait. Aren’t we going to talk about it?”
“Talk about what?”
His cheeks flushed. “The kiss.”
“What about it?”
“Are we just going to pretend it didn’t happen?”
“Sure. Why not? I only did it to thank you. It’s no different from bowing your head.”
Joe knew that, but the disappointment still showed.
She scoffed. “You didn’t think I’d fall for you over some ointment, did you? I need someone strong enough to protect me. That’s not you.”
She walked away.
‘Why did my first kiss have to be with someone like that?’ Joe thought.
Bob returned and pointed to the ring. “You should get in. It’s about to start.”
“Aren’t you participating?”
“I was eliminated,” Bob admitted quietly. “The tournament's been going on for a week. Over a hundred started. Now there are about thirty left. You and Old Man Charles are the only ones from our cell.”
Joe blinked. “How did the old man last a week?”
“He didn’t. This is his first time participating. He probably ran out of Smiling Devil.”
Joe watched Charles step into the ring. The other fighters eyed him like prey.
“I’m going in. Wish me luck.”
“Good luck. I’m rooting for you.”
As Joe approached the ring, a notification appeared.
[New Skill Acquired: Detoxification]
The skill allowed him to purge harmful substances from his body by manipulating his essence. It was classified under his Specialty abilities. Joe smiled as he stepped into the ring.
The fighters turned toward him. He stood beside Charles, who remained isolated.
Big Dog sat on a wooden chair at the northern edge of the platform, Shelly on his lap.
“You know the rules,” Big Dog announced. “Ten minutes. Knock as many people out of the ring as possible. If more than one remains when time’s up, the one with the most eliminations wins. The victor gets a week’s supply of Smiling Devil and a spot in the Elite 5 tournament against the other section champions. Win that, and you challenge your section leader. Understood?”
“Yes, Boss,” the competitors shouted.
“Begin.”
The moment it started, everyone targeted Charles.
Joe stepped in front of him and cracked his knuckles. “If you want the old man, you go through me.”
They ignored his words and charged.
Joe exhaled and moved.
Three seconds later, bodies flew out of the ring. He struck three times. Each blow sent over ten men crashing into each other and tumbling off the platform. The crowd fell silent, staring at the pile of groaning inmates.
Joe turned to Charles. “You can step out now. You’re safe.”
Charles didn’t move.
Joe frowned. “Didn’t you hear—”
The old man vanished from his spot and appeared in front of him. A fist flew toward his face.
Joe raised his forearms to block, but the impact drove him backward. He skidded across the stone and dug his boots in, stopping a centimeter from the edge. His arms throbbed in pain and his bones were rattled from the force. He couldn't see them because of his sleeves, but he was sure his limbs were bruised.
Charles stood in a solid stance, eyes sharp.
Joe stared at him.
“What the hell?”
