On a clear Tokyo day, amidst the slow-moving sea of cars, Kaito peered out from a large dark vehicle, dressed in his signature loose navy pants, dark sneakers, and black sweatshirt, lost in the rhythm of his music. A familiar figure caught his eye through the window—a close companion, Anthony, accompanied by another young man.
"Stop here," Kaito directed the driver.
The car eased onto the sidewalk, and with a nod of thanks, Kaito stepped out, heading toward the familiar faces. As he neared, he extended his hand to Anthony.
"Hi," Kaito greeted warmly.
"Hey, what's up?" replied Anthony'.
Kaito turned to the new face—a Japanese youth of about fifteen or seventeen, with an unassuming air, standing at 5'6", clad in simple attire: black pants and a dark blue plaid shirt, sleeves rolled up. He offered a friendly smile and handshake.
"Hi," Kaito greeted, his smile easy.
At that moment, Anthony introduced them, "This is Kaito, the one I mentioned," before turning to Kaito, "And he's Hideo."
"Pleasure to meet you, Hideo."
"Likewise."
"So, where are we headed?" Kaito inquired of Anthony.
"Not far—a spot in the parking lot beneath the mall."
"Are we planning to perform there?" Hideo asked Kaito.
"Perhaps, but for now, I just want to see what it's like," Kaito replied calmly.
"But is it worth it? If you get caught, you could have trouble getting in." Hideo pressed.
"If," Kaito replied shortly, recalling how Mirko had risen to become one of Japan's top ten most beloved heroes despite her inability to conceal her identity well. He considered himself a far more adept deceiver and dismissed the concern entirely.
"So which mask did you choose?" asked Anthony to Kaito. One mandatory rule in underground fights is to hide your face with a mask.
Kaito nodded at Anthony's question, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "Yeah, I found one online. It's a simple half-mask, black with gold accents. Should do the trick," he replied confidently.
As they walked towards the mall, the conversation shifted away from the underground scene to more common interests.
"Hey Kaito, you aim to become a pro hero, right?" Hideo inquired.
"Yep," Kaito responded succinctly.
"What hero inspired you to it?" Hideo probed further.
"Honestly, none of them."
"What? None at all?"
"Even in childhood?" Anthony chimed in.
"Nope, I've always liked the whole superhero concept in general," Kaito explained.
"Huh, I've been a die-hard fan of the same hero since I was little," Anthony revealed with a grin.
"Who?" Kaito asked curiously.
"Take a guess," Anthony replied playfully.
"Is he in the top 10?"
"Yeah."
With a mischievous grin, Hideo interjected, "It's gotta be All Might or Hawks."
"No-o." replied Anthony.
"So, who?" calmly asked Kaito.
"You're not even gonna guess?" Anthony teased.
"Endeavor?"
"That's the one!"
"Wait, seriously? Endeavor?" Anthony's choice took aback Hideo.
"Yeah, what's wrong with that?"
"Just don't like him… to me, he's kind of an asshole," Hideo bluntly stated.
'Ha, well. There's a reason, even though he doesn't know about the--' a thought went through Kaito's head.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
Kaito turned his head towards Hideo and asked, "Then which is your favorite?"
"Um… Well, it is Mirko," Hideo admitted hesitantly, his eyes darting away.
Kaito chuckled, "Haha, I see," a grin spreading across his face.
"No, it's not for the reason you think," Hideo clarified nervously.
"Ha, don't worry, we get it," Anthony said, waving his hand dismissively.
"No, really. When I was a kid, she saved me and my mom from a villain," Hideo revealed, catching both Kaito and Anthony off guard. Their eyes widened in surprise.
"Oh wow, villains attacked you? What kind of villain was it?" Anthony inquired, leaning in with curiosity.
"Well, it was just some crazy person trying to rob my mom and other people."
In due time, they arrived at their destination—the mall. The building was a typical Japanese mall, bustling with shoppers and adorned with colorful banners announcing various sales and promotions.
Anthony turned sharply to Kaito. "You downloaded that app?"
"Yes."
"Nice, because they won't let you in without it," Anthony replied with a smirk.
They circumvented the main entrance of the mall, opting instead for another route that led directly to the underground parking lot. As they approached, they were greeted by two men stationed at the entrance. One was of medium height, with a stout build, while the other stood tall and athletic.
"Show your phones," the shorter man demanded.
"Sure," said Anthony. All three retrieved their phones and accessed a specific app, opening the barcodes needed for entry. The man scanned each barcode meticulously with his phone's camera. After verifying, he nodded in approval and granted them access.
They were met with a surprising sight when they descended into the underground parking lot. The vast expanse meant for vehicles had been transformed into an underground fighting venue. The space was devoid of cars, replaced instead by a throng of people donning various masks, their identities concealed. At the heart of the makeshift arena stood a large octagon, where two men were engaged in a fierce battle, cheered on by the surrounding spectators.
Kaito surveyed the scene, his anticipation palpable. This was the environment he sought—a place to test his mettle and hone his abilities before embarking on his journey to UA. He glanced at Anthony, who wore an expression of cautious excitement.
"So, this is it," Anthony remarked, eyes fixed on the spectacle unfolding before them.
"Let's find a good spot," Kaito suggested, leading the way through the crowd toward the closest place to the octagon. Anthony and Hideo followed closely, navigating the sea of masked onlookers.
"And how often do you go to places like this?" Kaito asked, returning his attention to Anthony.
"Not often, just once this year. I used to come a lot, but when I lost 5k dollars in two nights, I banned betting for myself, and without betting it wasn't as interesting to watch," Anthony replied, his tone tinged with a hint of ruefulness, a small sigh escaping him.
"Yeah, about two years ago we were here every month," Hideo chimed in, his voice filled with nostalgia.
"Bets?"
"Yeah, the app handles all of that," Anthony explained, a hint of bitterness in his voice.
"Got it," Kaito nodded, absorbing the information.
"Actually, betting is one of the main reasons why people come here. These fights are pretty popular on the internet," Hideo added, sharing insights into the underground scene.
They halted about 15 meters away from the octagon, their attention drawn to the ongoing fight. Two imposing figures battled within the arena—an immensely built man with brass knuckles on his hands and iron-plated boots, pitted against an even larger opponent, standing at a towering 190 centimeters and resembling an anthropomorphic gray-red wolf.
"Listen, how strict are the rules here?" Kaito inquired, mindful of the environment.
"There aren't many rules, well, almost none. The key is to keep your fight entertaining for the audience," Hideo explained, positioned to Kaito's left.
"Yes, you can put up a tough fight as long as the audience likes it. But if your style scares off the crowd, you'll risk getting banned," Anthony elaborated, gesturing towards the raucous spectators.
"I see," Kaito summarized.
The clash between the two fighters was a spectacle of brute strength and skill. The man, adorned with knuckles and iron-clad boots, moved with surprising agility despite his bulky figure. His blows were thunderous, each one precise and aimed to incapacitate.
In contrast, his opponent, a tall figure resembling an anthropomorphic wolf, utilized his size advantage with calculated ferocity. He lunged and dodged with the grace of a predator, delivering sweeping blows and grappling maneuvers to demonstrate his beastly strength.
The crowd roared with delight, their masked faces illuminated by the flickering lights above their heads. The atmosphere was filled with anticipation and adrenaline as the fighters traded blows within the confines of the octagon.
Kaito watched intently, studying the various techniques and strategies employed by his opponents. It was a clear demonstration of fighting prowess, every move calculated to gain the upper hand.
The wolf-man tried to lunge with a swinging claw strike. But at that moment, standing in a stance, the man stepped forward and, minimizing the damage from his opponent's blow to himself, retaliated with a strong sidekick to the liver. He then stepped his foot hard on his opponent's foot, which was not pleasant, the soles of the boots are designed to leave cuts on the feet of the victims.
By this action, he prevented his opponent from retreating, for if he had tried to pull his foot out he would have skinned himself. At that moment a flurry of incredibly strong blows to the face of the wolf-man followed, and even despite the block, after 7-9 blows he fell down. But the Man didn't stop, he took a dominant position to finish the fight by putting his knee on the chest of the enemy, and making 4 punches to the face, the referee stopped the fight and took the fighters away from each other.
Rising victoriously, the man greeted his triumph with cheers of approval, leaving his opponent with an eerie sight. Kaito, keeping his eyes on the battered fighter, muttered: "Those blows..."
"With that much force, he could have died," Hideo remarked, looking at the blood-drenched marks.
The man walked over to the netting and climbed onto it shouting, "I'm the fucking king here. I'm the king. Come on, somebody wants to challenge me. Come on bitches, who wants to come to my domain and fuck in front of everyone?"
"What's he talking about? Is that allowed?" - A puzzled Kaito asked his buddies.
"It's the norm. If a fighter defeats another daredevil, he gets a bonus after the fight, also those who accepted the challenge get money after the victory and are credited with a winning record," Hideo gave a detailed answer.
Upon hearing this information, Kaito sank into thought. Finally, the fighter heard a response from the audience. "I challenge you," came the voice of a young man from the audience.