Carol's menacing smile sent shivers down Taguchi's spine, her eyes gleaming like shards of glass, cold and merciless. She exuded confidence, a predator sizing up its prey.

Taguchi stood frozen, every muscle in his body betraying him. Sweat dripped from his forehead, tracing lines of fear down his pale face. His heart thundered like a war drum, the sound deafening in his ears.

The arena was a cacophony of whispers, the crowd watching with bated breath, waiting for him to falter further. Their judgment hung in the air, sharp and unforgiving.

"Is he scared of her?"

"Pathetic!"

"How did he even make it this far?"

Each word stung, like daggers stabbing into his already trembling heart. He felt the weight of their scorn, their pity pressing down on him, suffocating him.

Carol began to move, her steps deliberate, her boots echoing ominously against the stone floor. Her movements were slow, mocking, as if savoring the moment before the kill.

Taguchi instinctively stepped back, his breath coming in shallow gasps. He tried to steady himself, but his knees threatened to buckle beneath him.

Then, without warning, his vision blurred—not from fear, but from a memory clawing its way to the forefront of his mind.

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A Memory of Pain

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A younger Taguchi sat on the floor, screaming at his father, his small fists pounding helplessly against the man's lap.

"WHY, DAD? WHY CAN'T I GO OUT AND PLAY LIKE THE OTHER KIDS? WHY DID I HAVE TO BE BORN LIKE THIS?!"

Tears streamed down his pale cheeks, his body trembling with frustration and despair. His father, a man once full of strength and laughter, now looked weary and broken. He said nothing, only wrapping his arms around his son in a futile attempt to offer comfort.

Taguchi had been born frail, his body ravaged by a rare illness that left him teetering on the edge of death for most of his childhood. His immune system was a shadow of what it should have been, rendering him too weak to live a normal life.

His mother had passed away during childbirth, her body too weak to endure the strain of labor. Her final words to his father were a plea to protect their son at all costs.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

Taguchi grew up confined to a bed, his world limited to the four walls of his room. His father abandoned his career, spending every waking moment caring for him, calling in doctors from across the globe. But no cure could be found.

By the time Taguchi was five, he had given up hope. He spent his days staring at the ceiling, waiting for the inevitable. He hated his frailty, hated the pain it caused not just him but his father as well.

One evening, as the sun set and painted the sky in hues of gold and crimson, Taguchi turned to the window. Outside, children were playing, their laughter carrying on the warm breeze. It was a sound that cut him deeper than any blade.

He clenched his jaw, bitterness boiling in his chest. It wasn't jealousy—it was hatred. Hatred for the futility of life.

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The Turning Point

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That night, as he drifted into a fitful sleep, a figure appeared in his dreams—a woman with kind, familiar eyes and an aura of peace.

"Mom?" he whispered, his voice trembling as tears welled in his eyes.

The woman smiled, her arms outstretched. Without thinking, Taguchi ran to her, burying his face in her embrace.

Her voice was soft yet unyielding, carrying a weight that shook him to his core.

"Live, my child. There is beauty in this world—beauty you must see for yourself. Do not let fear or pain define your life."

Her touch was warm, her words a lifeline.

"Even though my life was short, I experienced moments of joy and sorrow. That's what life is—a collection of moments, both light and dark. And it's worth it, Taguchi. Every second is worth it.

But you must learn to love your life. The more you curse it, the more life will turn away from you. Embrace it, my son. Only then will it embrace you back."

When he woke, tears streaked his face, but his heart felt lighter than it had in years. He vowed that day to fight—not just for survival, but for a life worth living.

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The Present

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Taguchi's eyes snapped open, his gaze now steady, burning with an inner fire. The whispers of the crowd faded into the background as his clenched fists began to tremble—not with fear, but with a raw, untamed power rising from deep within him.

The ground beneath the arena began to shake. Fine cracks spiderwebbed across the stone floor as energy coursed through his veins, making them glow with an otherworldly light.

The spectators gasped, their judgment turning to awe.

Carol froze mid-step, her smirk faltering for the first time. Her eyes narrowed, not with fear, but with something akin to excitement.

"Well, well," she purred, her voice dripping with anticipation. "Looks like you've finally decided to fight."

Taguchi took a step forward, his voice booming across the arena, silencing the crowd.

"CAROL JOHANSSON! TODAY, YOU WILL PAY FOR LOOKING DOWN ON MY LIFE!"

His words hung in the air, a declaration of defiance not just to Carol, but to the world.

The energy around him intensified, the cracks in the ground spreading as dust rose into the air. Carol's grin returned, wider than ever.

"Finally getting serious, huh?" she said, her voice laced with thrill. "This is going to be fun."

Taguchi's determination burned brighter than ever. This wasn't just a battle—it was his ultimate test.

He wasn't fighting to prove himself to Carol or the crowd.

He was fighting for the life he had once despised but now cherished.

And he would defend it with everything he had...