The chanical groan of the Floor 13 arena was like the death rattle of a giant. The jagged, rusted swords of the Ghost-Iron Graveyard began to retract into the earth, and the thick, swirling smog was sucked away by massive ventilation rifts. The landscape flattened, shifting into a singular, vast circle of obsidian-like stone that shimred under the artificial sun of the Tower. The translucent mana do that had obscured the fight finally turned crystal clear, revealing the two final contestants to the hundreds of thousands of spectators in the stadium.
The crowd’s roar was a physical force, a tidal wave of sound that shook the very foundation of the platform.
-FINALLY! The visibility is 100%! -
-Look at them... they’re both on their last legs. -
-That’s the ’Failure’ vs the ’Strear’. This is the battle of the bottom-feeders. -
-I’ve never seen a Battle Royale end with two low ranks. What is happening? -
-If they made it this far, they’re not low ranks now are they -
Yechan’s fingers were white where they gripped the maroon hilt of the blade known as Libra.
Su-been’s daggers were trembling, his knuckles bloodied.
"I can’t... lose," Su-been whispered, his voice cracking.
"Not to soone like you."
Without another word, Su-been vanished.
He pushed his body past its biological limit, his boots thudding against the obsidian with a frantic, rhythmic beat. He was a blur of ragged fabric and notched steel.
Yechan raised the maroon blade, his vision blurring from the blood dripping into his eye. ’He’s fast. Too fast.’
Su-been reached him in a second, his left dagger aiming for Yechan’s throat while the right swung in a low arc toward his liver. Yechan pivoted, the movent clumsy but desperate.
He used the length of the maroon blade to parry the high strike, the sound of clashing tal ringing out like a bell.
The force of the impact sent a jolt of pain up Yechan’s arm, but he didn’t let go.
He kicked out, his foot catching Su-been in the shin, but the strear didn’t even flinch. Su-been used the montum to spin, his daggers dancing in a chaotic, unstructured frenzy.
*Clang! Shink! Clang!*
They were no longer using the elegant techniques of players.
Yechan swung the maroon blade in a wide, desperate cleave.
Su-been dropped to the floor, the blade whistling inches above his head, and lunged forward, driving his shoulder into Yechan’s chest.
Both n went down, rolling across the obsidian floor.
Su-been was the first to scramble up, his eyes wild.
He grabbed a handful of pulverized stone from a previous impact and flung it at Yechan’s face.
"Argh!"
Yechan recoiled, blinded for a split second.
Su-been didn’t hesitate.
He dived through the dust, his daggers leading the way.
Yechan, acting on pure instinct, swung his sword blindly.
The maroon tal connected with Su-been’s shoulder, a shallow cut, but Su-been’s dagger found its mark as well, slicing through the at of Yechan’s thigh.
They separated, both limping and bleeding.
’Libra...’
Yechan called out in the depths of his mind, his breath coming in ragged, agonized gasps. ’I can’t keep up with him. Give sothing. Use a skill. Anything!’
The maroon blade humd, a cold, vibrating resonance that echoed in his marrow.
「No.」
The voice was ancient, feminine, and utterly indifferent.
「My full power is required to manifest the laws of the contract. My current form is but a shard. You are the wielder. You must win this with your own marrow. Win, and the relic will bridge the gap.」
"Dammit!"
Yechan spat, a mouthful of blood hitting the obsidian.
-Who tf is he talking to? -
-Look at his leg! He can barely stand. -
-Su-been is charging again! End it! -
Su-been didn’t give him ti to breathe.
He launched himself off the ground, his body spinning like a top.
He used the obsidian floor’s slickness to his advantage, sliding beneath Yechan’s guard and aiming a twin-stab at his groin.
Yechan slamd the hilt of his sword down, eting the daggers mid-air.
The shock of the collision rattled his teeth.
He grabbed Su-been’s wrist with his free hand, his fingers digging into the bone.
"Get... off!"
Su-been scread, slamming his forehead into Yechan’s nose.
*CRACK!
Yechan’s world went white.
His grip loosened, and Su-been delivered a vicious knee to his stomach.
Yechan fell back, his sword clattering against the stone.
Su-been raised both daggers for a final, downward execution.
’I’m going to lose.’
The thought flashed through Yechan’s mind. ’I’m going to...just like the failure I am. I’m still pathetic even now...tsk...’
No.
Yechan’s hand shot out, grabbing a jagged piece of rusted iron that had been left over from the arena’s shift.
He didn’t wait and thrust the scrap tal upward with everything he had left.
The rusted spike pierced through Su-been’s forearm just as the daggers were inches from Yechan’s face.
Su-been shrieked, his montum breaking.
Yechan didn’t let him recover and lunged forward, his hands finding the maroon hilt of his sword again.
He drove the tip of the blade into the ground, using it as a lever to launch a heavy, mud-stained kick into Su-been’s jaw.
Su-been went flying, his daggers skidding away across the arena.
He tried to scramble for them, his fingers clawing at the stone, but Yechan was already there.
Yechan brought the flat of the maroon blade down across Su-been’s back, pinning him to the floor.
The weight of the sword seed to increase tenfold, anchored by the weight of Yechan’s desperation.
"Yield."
Yechan wheezed, his nose crooked and bleeding, his vision swimming.
The holographic counter froze.
[WINNER: KIM YECHAN]
The stadium erupted, but it wasn’t a cheer of celebration.
It was a roar of confusion, shock, and disbelief.
The "Failure" had won.
The safety charms flickered on, glowing with a soft gold light as the combat phase ended. Su-been lay on the ground, his body shaking with silent sobs.
Then, the silence broke.
"FUCK!"
Su-been scread, his voice raw and echoing through the silent stadium.
He rolled onto his back, staring up at the holographic screens displaying Yechan’s victory.
"YOU PIECE OF SHIT! WHY? WHY YOU?!"
Yechan stood over him, leaning on his sword, his face a mask of exhaustion.
"It’s over, Su-been."
"Over? OVER?!"
Su-been scrambled to his feet, his safety charm preventing him from attacking, but his words were like acid.
"You don’t need this! You’re Kim Jin’s brother! You have everything! You have a penthouse in the upper districts, you have the White Stars backing you, you have a fucking god for a brother!"
Su-been stepped closer, his face inches from Yechan’s.
"I have soone I love dying with nothing I can do about it!
You’re a selfish, privileged prick! You took the only thing that could save them just to prove a point? You fucking loser! You’re just playing at being poor, playing at being a ’failure’ while you have a safety net made of gold!"
The live chat was exploding.
-Damn, Su-been is going off. -
-Is he right? Yechan is a Kim. He probably doesn’t even need the money. -
-That’s cold. Taking the relic from soone who actually needs it. -
-Privilege wins again, I guess. -
Yechan didn’t move.
He stood there, taking the insults, until Su-been reached out and shoved his shoulder.
"Answer ! You think you’re special because you won? You’re just a leach! You’re living off Jin’s na, and now you’re stealing from people who have NOTHING!"
Yechan snapped.
He reached out, his hand moving like a snake, and grabbed Su-been by the collar of his shredded shirt.
He jerked the strear forward, forcing him to look into his bloodshot, manic eyes.
"You think I have shit?"
Yechan’s voice was a low, terrifying growl that silenced the crowd.
"You think because my last na is Kim, I’m eating off gold plates?"
He shook Su-been violently.
"I don’t have a penthouse! I don’t have a contract! I live in a small apartnt unit because Jin won’t even look at without feeling like I’m a burden!
Do you know what it’s like to have the entire world compare you to a god and find you wanting every single day of your life?"
Yechan’s grip tightened, his knuckles turning white.
"Jin’s money isn’t mine! Jin’s fa isn’t mine! I don’t have a safety net, Su-been.
If I fall, I hit the concrete just like you.
I’m not a leach.
I’m just a fucking guy who is tired of being left in my own younger brothers shadow!"
Su-been tried to pull away, but Yechan held him firm.
"I want to build sothing that belongs to !"
Yechan hissed, his voice trembling with years of suppressed rage.
"I want a na that isn’t a shadow! Is that so fucking wrong? To want to exist as myself? To want to win sothing with my own blood and my own hands?"
He shoved Su-been away, the strear stumbling back and falling onto the obsidian.
"I’m sorry about whatever you’re goin through to want this..."
Yechan said, his voice dropping back into a cold, hollow flatline.
"I truly am. But don’t you dare tell I didn’t earn this."
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