Beneath the glamorous glow and pulsing bass of Venom Nightclub, hidden behind a labyrinth of guarded corridors and locked steel doors, lay a cavernous underground colosseum that pulsed with bloodlust.

The arena was massive, carved from reinforced stone and metal, designed to hold powerful mutants. It reeked of sweat, smoke, blood, and adrenaline. Thousands packed the standing grounds, pressed against barricades that circled the pit in a tight oval. They screamed, laughed, cheered, and cursed, drunk on alcohol, high on questionable substances, and utterly addicted to the spectacle of violence.

Fights happened every night.

Some were brutal street brawls between desperate souls clawing for coin. Others were sanctioned matches between trained fighters. But the true crowd-pleasers, the ones that sent ripples of anticipation through the masses, were the mutant battles.

On some nights, they even brought out actual monsters and beasts they had captured. They threw them into the pit to face men and women with nothing but their bare hands or a thirst to survive. It was savage, illegal, and completely unregulated.

But the people loved it.

Dozens of suites ringed the upper tier of the arena, offering luxurious views to the rich, the powerful, and the depraved. The most extravagant of them all sat at the very centre: an obsidian balcony with crimson velvet banners hanging on either side, marked with the unmistakable emblem of a one-eyed hissing snake.

The symbol of the underground queen herself - Dominique Mercer, the One-Eyed Viper.

As the current fight ended with a wet crunch and the victor's scream, the lights dimmed and a hush rolled over the crowd. Then, her voice boomed through the stadium, smooth and venom-laced.

"Tonight's main event is a special one…" Her words stretched with delicious anticipation. "Of course, it's a mutant battle."

The crowd exploded into a frenzy.

Nadya raised her brow as she watched the giant woman while sipping her drink. The alcohol burned her throat, but the taste was one she was acquainted with. She watched as Dominique stood on her private balcony, towering with confidence.

"And representing us," Dominique continued, voice full of pride, "one of our most dangerous, high-ranking fighters. A close subordinate of mine… the Black Fang himself - Zeke!"

The crowd roared. Bottles shattered against the ground. Smoke filled the air as people screamed the name over and over again.

"Zeke! Zeke! Zeke!"

He didn't walk in.

He exploded onto the scene.

Zeke leapt from the shadows above, twisting in midair like a missile of flesh and fury before slamming down into the centre of the arena. The ground shuddered, dust rising from the impact, and the cheers reached a fever pitch.

Lean and lethal, Zeke stood tall, muscles tight under a black tank top. His tanned skin glistened slightly with sweat, showing off a network of scars that mapped his violent past. His messy black hair fell over half his face, but it couldn't hide the razor focus in his eyes. Brown and sharp, like a predator watching for the kill.

He cracked his knuckles once. The vibration from the motion caused a tremor through the dirt floor.

'Showoff,' Nadya thought, smirking. Still, it got the crowd riled up and would be effective against most, but the man he was facing this time wasn't one of them.

"And his opponent," Dominique purred, dragging out the moment with theatre, "a new face. A mutant from another fight club… ruthless, cold, and skilled in his own right. Ladies and gents… Red Eyes."

Nadya couldn't help but laugh, nearly spitting her drink as Kai appeared.

All eyes turned to the tunnel entrance.

But there was no dramatic entrance. No acrobatics. No lightshow.

Just Kai.

He strolled in, hands buried in the pockets of his black tracksuit. A black ski mask covered the lower half of his face, but his crimson eyes gleamed from beneath the hood like twin coals in the dark.

He didn't sprint. Didn't jog.

He walked. Slowly. Calmly.

Unbothered.

Unimpressed.

His gaze drifted over Zeke, then past him to the crowd, before circling back lazily. As if he wasn't facing one of Dominique's deadliest mutants. As if he was just… bored.

People in the crowd started murmuring.

"Who the hell is this guy?"

"Doesn't even look serious…"

"He's gonna get torn apart."

But no one left their seat. In Dominique's Fight Club, they knew that the fights were always entertaining and didn't usually end quickly.

Not unless someone died immediately...

-

Zeke stood tall in the arena, eyes narrowed as he studied his opponent.

The so-called Red Eyes.

Yet, the man before him didn't exactly scream "threat". Dressed in a plain black tracksuit, hands shoved casually into his pockets, and wearing a ski mask that covered half his face, Kai looked more like someone who got lost on the way to the gym than a fearsome mutant.

Zeke's gaze sharpened.

Where's the pressure? The aura a mutant gave off before engaging in combat.

There was none. Just the lazy flicker of crimson eyes watching him without the faintest hint of tension.

"You don't look like much," Zeke muttered, his voice carrying across the arena.

Kai tilted his head. "Neither do you."

Zeke scoffed. "You a mutant or just some guy with glow-in-the-dark contacts?"

Kai blinked, then glanced at the crowd. "That a real question, or are you trying to sound cool in front of your fans?"

Zeke's fists clenched, his brow twitching. He's not taking this seriously.

Up in her luxury suite, Dominique smirked, mic in hand. "You know the rules, people! No holding back! Only one walks out! Let the fight... Begin!"

The moment the word echoed through the arena, Zeke moved.

He surged forward like a rocket, his feet slamming into the ground hard enough to quake the floor. The crowd erupted in cheers as the Black Fang blurred toward Kai, his body light as air, moving faster than any normal man could track.

But Kai was far from being a normal man, and a small smile crept up his face beneath his ski mask...

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