The underground fight pit in the abandoned Pacifica shopping mall was thick with the stench of blood and drugs.
Harsh lights poured down over the octagon ring enclosed by iron bars. The head of the pit, Mammoth, gripped the VIP railing hard enough to look like it might snap and snatched up the microphone.
He was wrapped in gray synthetic hide like a rhinoceros, pacing back and forth like a caged beast. The steel implant set into his broken jaw from years ago rattled with a grotesque metallic clank, and the sound rolled heavily through the speakers.
"Kwahahahaha! You beasts! Today, some very interesting bastard rolled in here all by himself!"
Above the crowd screaming like madmen for blood, Mammoth’s eyes flashed with savage delight.
"On this ring, the only law is violence earned through sweat, blood, muscle, and drugs—nothing else! Prove who’s really strong, and who’s just a dead dog! Begin!"
A heavy bell rang out over the octagon.
The cold echo spread through the pit, but Ji-hwan’s first opponent, Bruiser, didn’t rush in right away. He stomped forward at an easy pace, his filthy eyes clouded by illegal stimulants sliding over Ji-hwan’s bare upper body with a greasy stare.
"Heh... Hey, pretty boy. I thought you were all bones, but up close you’ve got a nice, firm body on you."
He licked his lips with a thick tongue and let out a disgusting laugh. Unlike the usual meatheads, the Animals had a twisted taste for lean, well-defined men.
"You’re exactly my type. Do you know how badly I’ve been looking for a juicy piece of meat like you in this shithole?"
Bruiser slammed his thick fists together with a crack of bone.
"Don’t worry. I’m not gonna turn you into minced meat. I’ll just break your arms and legs so you can’t put up a fight, then make you cry nice and pretty in my bed all night long. Kwahahaha!"
The courtship of a three-meter giant who wasn’t just trying to crush him, but openly flaunting horrifying lust as well. Ji-hwan’s facial muscles froze coldly at the filthy nonsense he was forced to hear head-on.
Haa... Everyone I meet in Night City is like this.
Ji-hwan glared at him like he was looking at a bug, disgust boiling up inside him, but the black tiger-fang mask hid his expression, leaving only an unreadable stare in Bruiser’s eyes.
"Come here, pretty boy! I’ll take good care of you..."
Before the bastard’s disgusting mouth could even finish closing, Ji-hwan shot forward like a ghost into the empty space of his embrace.
His shoulders were completely relaxed, his body loose and heavy in a cold, efficient stance.
"You talk way too damn much."
Ji-hwan’s voice, filtered through the mask, was colder than ice.
"I’ll tear that filthy mouth apart first."
The moment Ji-hwan’s shoulders released, the rotational force from his hips and the push from the ground surged cleanly through his extended fist and slammed into Bruiser’s jaw.
With the sound of teeth cracking, Bruiser’s head snapped sideways. He clutched at his split lip, his murky eyes burning red with rage.
"You little shit!"
Bruiser roared like an animal and swung both log-thick fists in a windmill, unleashing a crude barrage that seemed to sweep across the entire octagon.
But Ji-hwan didn’t even need to draw on any special technique to slip through that savage arc. Even as the rough wind pressure brushed past his nose and chin, he calmly stepped into the empty blind spot created by the missed swings and unleashed merciless blows.
"You’re too slow. You think size is all that matters?"
Joints, ribs, the pressure points under the thighs. Ji-hwan’s precise, heavy fists rained down on the bastard’s body like a storm.
"Aaaagh! Fuck!"
No matter how much his body had been pumped full of drugs, in front of Ji-hwan’s fighting sense, which struck straight through bone and nerve, he was nothing but a giant punching bag. No matter how wildly he flailed, he couldn’t even touch a hair on Ji-hwan’s head, and the one-sided beating continued like someone hammering a tied-up dog.
"That’s all the skill you had while running your mouth? I’m getting bored enough to yawn."
Ji-hwan’s cold mockery made Bruiser, now a bloodied mess, lose the last shred of reason.
"I’ll kill youuuuu!"
Spitting blood and rolling his eyes back, Bruiser spread both arms wide and charged with everything he had, trying to crush Ji-hwan and the iron bars together.
A terrifying bear-like rush.
At that instant, Ji-hwan’s silhouette slipped smoothly into the center of the bastard’s empty embrace, planting both feet firmly on the floor.
Back when he had fought life-and-death battles against enemy bosses, Ji-hwan’s foot strike had been a self-destructive technique that burst through bone and organs alike. In the midst of horrific pain, it was a narrow miracle—his body unconsciously releasing tension at the moment of impact just to survive.
But now, instead of forcibly squeezing out power, Ji-hwan had learned the trick of emptying his muscles completely, turning his body itself into a flexible channel.
At last, he had pulled that instinctive sensation into the full control of his own will.
All unnecessary tension flowed out of his body like water. Instead of clenching a fist, Ji-hwan spread his palm wide toward the bastard’s chest.
As the crowd’s frenzy and the beast’s roar shook the octagon like it was about to collapse, a cool whisper echoed quietly inside the mask, heard only by Ji-hwan.
"[Instant Strike]."
The energy driven up from the ground passed cleanly through Ji-hwan’s supple torso without any loss, condensing sharply into the center of his open palm.
Ji-hwan’s hand touched Bruiser’s solar plexus.
A soft, almost secret touch without even the sound of an explosion. But the shockwave compressed into that instant passed straight through the bastard’s thick, drug-swollen muscles.
"Kuh... Hk... Ugaaaagh!"
Horrific pain, as if his veins and nerves were burning alive. Bruiser’s enormous three-meter frame rolled white-eyed and convulsed like a lightning-struck old tree. Sickly foam spilled from between his torn lips.
The body that had been spouting arrogant flirtation only moments ago collapsed face-first onto the floor.
It was a chillingly silent strike that brought down the ruler of the octagon without a single rough impact sound.
"That monster bastard! He finished it in one shot!"
"Did you see that?! That three-meter Bruiser got dropped by one palm strike!"
"Holy shit, a real monster rookie just rolled in!!"
The gang members filling the pit clung to the iron bars and roared like maniacs. They let out savage cries of respect toward Ji-hwan, who had shattered an opponent three times his size with nothing but raw technique.
The crowd’s ecstatic praise shook the arena, but Ji-hwan only looked down indifferently at the giant foaming on the floor.
He opened and closed his bloodied palm, and a cold thrill spread across the corner of his mouth.
The sensation of emptying tension from the muscles through sheer will. A miracle that let him control killing power at will while perfectly cutting off the backlash of destruction. Ignoring the cheers pouring down on him, Ji-hwan flicked the blood from his hand, opened the iron gate without hesitation, and stepped into the dark corridor.
Even as he moved away into the darkness, his fingertips kept clenching and relaxing in tiny motions. It was a fierce repetition, trying not to forget that cool, razor-sharp flow of power.
"Hey, rookie."
As Ji-hwan walked through the narrow passage, wiping blood from his face with a towel, a huge shadow blocked his way.
The head of the pit, Mammoth, in his synthetic hide. Behind him stood his guard, Bison, trembling all over. Mammoth blew a long stream of cigar smoke straight into Ji-hwan’s face.
"Heh... That was one hell of a show. Toying with that bastard like that. I’ve never seen movement like that before."
Even in front of the giant, Ji-hwan answered without a trace of concern.
"I kept my promise and got in the ring. I proved my worth."
"Hah! I like that!"
Mammoth burst out laughing, his eyes flashing with ferocity.
"But what’s your name? If you want to get beasts screaming on the ring, you need a proper banner."
The three-star bounty in Night City. He couldn’t use his real name, Kim Ji-hwan. From behind the tiger-fang mask, a cool voice slipped out short and dry.
"K."
"K, huh... Short and sharp. I like it!"
Mammoth turned with satisfaction and shouted,
"Bison! Take our guest to his room right now. If you make even a single hair on his head uncomfortable, I’ll twist your neck off first!"
"Y-yes, sir! Understood!"
Bison hurriedly bowed and led Ji-hwan away.
When the heavy iron door closed, Ji-hwan was left alone in the deep basement of Pacifica, tangled with old pipes. He let his tension go and tossed off the blood-soaked anti-slash mask.
"Kgh..."
Once the adrenaline drained away, pain like his whole body had been ground down came crashing in. His regeneration, which had fallen all the way to the bottom, finally began to recover the wounds, barely sending up a faint red haze.
Ji-hwan collapsed onto an old leather sofa stained with blood, caught his rough breathing, then slowly forced himself upright again. His whole body throbbed, but he had to carve that sensation from the ring into his body before it faded away.
He planted his feet firmly and took a stance, very slowly and smoothly. He let all unnecessary tension flow out of his joints like water, then gathered his energy again through his fingertips.
In the dark basement, only Ji-hwan’s quiet breathing remained, as he danced alone to perfect his unarmed combat.
Tatatatang
At the same time, in a back alley of Night City’s Watson district.
Unlike the quiet basement, the alley drenched in acrid acid rain was filled with gunfire and flashes.
"Die, you bastards!"
Pilar and Rebecca were locked in a fierce firefight against the remnants of the Tiger Claws. Under a hail of smart rounds, Pilar, crumpled behind a trash can, screamed in panic.
"Hey! Kid! What are you spacing out for? Shoot already!"
Pilar yelled, but Rebecca, half-exposed from behind cover, wasn’t pulling the trigger. Instead, she stared blankly at something else. Her red-and-green eyes were fixed on a giant news screen mounted on the wall of an abandoned building.
"Die, you brat!"
Taking advantage of the brief lull in gunfire, one of the gang members raised a blue katana and splashed through the rain as he charged Rebecca’s flank.
"Shit, Becca!"
As Pilar gasped in horror and squeezed his eyes shut, Rebecca didn’t even look away from the screen. She casually extended the pistol in her hand with one arm.
Tang-!
A perfect headshot. The corpse with its skull blown apart dropped to the ground. But Rebecca’s pupils were already dilating wildly toward the screen.
"Shut the hell up, you idiot brother... how is that even real...?"
Rebecca’s trembling fingertip pointed at the news display. On the screen, a red emergency bulletin flashed with a blaring siren.
[ Emergency Bulletin: Assassination of a high-ranking Biotechnica executive and large-scale terrorist attack on a research facility ]
[ NCPD Priority Wanted / Threat Level: 3 Stars ]
[ Suspect: Real name unknown / Asian male ]
Above the sensational captions, a security camera photo of the indifferent "uncle" who had bought them beef noodles on a rainy day a few days ago was displayed. At the bottom was an astronomical bounty.
"Huh...? Isn’t that the guy from last time?!"
Pilar’s jaw dropped all the way to the floor as he poked his head out from behind the trash can.
"Holy shit! Hahah! I told you the universe was on our side, right?!"
Not understanding the weight of the wanted notice, Pilar was actually thrilled and bouncing with excitement.
"That guy’s some kind of huge shot! If we hand his info over to that old hag Wakako and get in good with her, we’re shooting straight into the major leagues! Hahahaha!"
Before his delusion could even finish.
Kwaang
"Agh!"
Rebecca’s merciless knee drove into Pilar’s solar plexus. He let out a frog-like scream and sprawled into the muddy ground.
"You brainless noodle-filled idiot! Do you not understand the situation?!"
Rebecca grabbed her brother’s collar roughly, her face pale with shock as she panted for breath.
"Shut up, you moron! Major leagues? What the hell are you talking about? If we get tangled up with a first-class criminal who’s become the top target of a giant corporation, we’ll die without even leaving bones behind! That guy is a walking bomb now, being hunted by every hound in this city!"
Stung by that brutal reality check, Pilar finally realized how serious this was and rubbed at his solar plexus in grievance.
But even after kicking her brother down, Rebecca stood in the cold acid rain and stared blankly up at the photo on the screen for a long time.
Rainwater ran down her cheeks. In this ruthless city, he was the only adult who had ever shown kindness without asking for anything in return. Rebecca was cursing up a storm, but she was also genuinely worried that man would escape the hounds and survive somehow.
Dammit... Uncle... what the hell did you do to those bastards?
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