Junpei leaned against the wall, his arms crossed as he watched Lucia. "Do you have any idea who the requester could be?" he asked, his voice calm but with an edge of curiosity.

Lucia looked up from her apple, a playful smile tugging at her lips. “I’ll look into it. My broker probably knows something,” she said casually as she stood up, stretching her arms above her head. “He lives in Tokyo.”

"By the way, did you-" Junpei began but was cut off by Lucia.

"You finally noticed? Yeah, I did unlock the power of my soul." She said with a smile on her face.

"Congrats." Junpei said.

"Just a congrats? What about a party?"

"..."

His eyes followed her as she moved, but his attention shifted when she suddenly pulled out a small concealer from her pocket. She began dabbing it onto the tattoo on her thigh, carefully covering up the familiar markings.

“What are you doing?” Junpei asked, his brow furrowing.

"Concealing my identity," she replied nonchalantly, not bothering to look at him.

Junpei sighed, his eyes narrowing slightly. "Why are you even wearing a short skirt then?" he asked.

Lucia, still focused on her tattoo, replied promptly, "They're best for movement."

"They can't be that practical." Junpei scoffed, raising an eyebrow. "Why not wear shorts? I'm sure you're wearing them underneath, anyway." He clearly didn’t buy her excuse.

"Nope," Lucia said with a smirk, not missing a beat. She started to lift her skirt slightly. "See?"

Junpei quickly averted his gaze as he turned around, muttering under his breath, "Don’t pull this bullshit with me."

"Chill, old man," Lucia laughed, her voice teasing. "I'm not going to show my goods to you again."

Junpei felt a wave of exasperation wash over him, his face heating with frustration. Why am I even dealing with this girl? he thought to himself as she finally turned and left, her laughter echoing down the hallway. He felt nauseous. Memories of the torment he had previously faced resurfaced.

Two days later, as Junpei was sitting at his desk, his phone buzzed. He picked it up and heard Lucia’s voice on the other end.

"I’ve got a lead," she said, her tone more serious than usual. In the background, Junpei could hear the unmistakable sound of someone screaming, mixed with shuffling and muffled voices.

“What the hell’s going on over there?” he asked, his curiosity piqued by the chaotic noises.

Lucia chuckled darkly. "Let’s just say I’m... motivating someone to talk."

***

Junpei stood motionless, his eyes still locked on Lucia as she gracefully exited the fighting ring. Her long black hair with streaks of yellow shimmered under the arena lights as she walked away, her posture relaxed yet commanding. The crowd buzzed around him, their cheers slowly fading as the next fight began in the background. Junpei couldn’t shake the daze that had settled over him. There was something surreal about seeing Lucia again, especially in a place like this.

"Yo, Junpei!" Eiji’s voice cut through his thoughts, jolting him back to the present.

"Huh?" Junpei blinked, turning his attention toward Eiji, who was pointing toward a figure standing amidst the crowd.

"There’s my guy," Eiji said, his voice filled with confidence as he gestured to a shady-looking man standing a few rows down. The man was nondescript, wearing a baseball cap pulled low over his face, but Eiji seemed sure of his identity.

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"Right," Junpei muttered, still shaking off his daze. He glanced at Rika, who had been quietly observing everything. "Let’s go."

The group made their way through the bustling arena, weaving between excited spectators and vendors hawking drinks and snacks. The arena itself was a mix of flashing lights, roaring crowds, and the scent of sweat and blood that hung thick in the air. Junpei could feel the weight of every step as they approached the contact Eiji had pointed out.

When they finally reached the man, Eiji stepped forward and exchanged a few hushed words. The man barely looked up, just nodded, and passed a slip of paper to Eiji before melting back into the crowd.

Eiji grinned, holding up the paper. "Kazuki’s match is in Arena 7. The betting’s already started."

Junpei’s brow furrowed as he took in the information. "Let’s get going then. We’re running out of time."

Without further delay, Junpei and Rika made their way toward Arena 7, the sound of roaring crowds growing louder with each step. The atmosphere in this part of the arena was even more intense, with fights happening simultaneously on multiple stages. Junpei caught glimpses of brutal battles as they passed by: a hulking man smashing his opponent to the ground, a slender woman deftly dodging strikes before landing a sharp kick to her foe’s jaw. The entire place reeked of violence, the air charged with adrenaline.

But as Junpei and Rika advanced toward their destination, Endo and Eiji lingered behind.

"We’ll catch up," Endo said, flashing a smile. "We just need to hit the restroom real quick."

Junpei shot them a look but nodded, assuming they’d join later. He and Rika continued down the corridor toward the arena, but as soon as they were out of sight, Endo and Eiji snuck off in the opposite direction.

"We’re not missing this chance," Eiji muttered with a sly grin.

The two of them made their way to the betting station, which was swarming with people. The air here felt different — thick with tension as gamblers shouted out their bets, eyes glued to the displays showing the odds for the upcoming fight.

They squeezed through the crowd, their eyes scanning the board. The bets were overwhelmingly stacked against Kazuki. His opponent, a massive brute known as the Fat Bastard, was clearly the favorite. The odds painted a grim picture, and the murmurs around them confirmed that few believed Kazuki had a chance.

"Look at that," Endo whispered to Eiji, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Everyone’s betting against him."

Eiji smirked, his confidence unwavering. "All the better for us." He slapped some money onto the counter. "Put it all on the Bank Robber."

The attendant raised an eyebrow, clearly thinking they were either brave or stupid, but took the money anyway. Eiji and Endo stepped back, sharing a conspiratorial grin.

"Easy money," Endo said with a wink. "Kazuki’s got this in the bag."

Back in Arena 7, Junpei and Rika arrived just in time to see the final preparations for Kazuki’s match. The crowd was already buzzing with anticipation, but Junpei’s focus was laser-sharp. He scanned the area, searching for any signs of his student. His heart pounded in his chest as he tried to shake off the unease that had settled over him.

Rika nudged him gently. "He’s strong. He’ll be okay."

Junpei nodded but didn’t say anything. His gaze shifted to the center of the arena, where the Fat Bastard was already waiting, a hulking figure of muscle and menace. The sight of him only deepened Junpei’s concern.

***

The building's interior was swallowed in shadows, lit only by the harsh spotlights casting an eerie glow over the brutal fighting stages. The air was thick with tension, reeking of sweat and blood, while the guttural roars of the crowd formed a twisted chorus, their shouts of bets and bloodlust filling every corner. This was Shoda's infamous fighting ring—a shrine where violence was the ultimate deity.

A commentator's voice pierced through the madness, shrill and disbelieving. "He took down the Fat Bastard!"

For a moment, the chaos stopped. The crowd fell into an almost unnatural silence, as if collectively holding its breath. Then, every spotlight swung toward the central stage, bathing the scene in stark, unforgiving light. There, standing alone amidst the carnage, was Kazuki.

Dressed in a ragged tracksuit and a torn ski mask, he looked like a shadow brought to life. His chest heaved with each labored breath, sweat and blood dripping from his battered knuckles. The audience stared in disbelief for only a second before erupting into frenzied chants.

"Bank Robber! Bank Robber!" The name reverberated off the walls, growing louder, more feral, as the reality of what they had just witnessed sank in.

At Kazuki's feet lay the massive form of the Fat Bastard, twisted and lifeless. His head was a grotesque mess, the result of Kazuki’s final, brutal blow. Blood pooled beneath the body, spreading like a dark stain across the stage, a silent testament to the violence that had just occurred. The sight didn’t repulse the crowd; it inflamed them, pushing them to the edge of hysteria.

Kazuki stood in the center, still as a statue. His muscles screamed in pain, his mind struggled to catch up. The adrenaline that had fueled him only moments ago was now a fading whisper, leaving him drained, hollow. His eyes, once blazing with the fire of survival, had dulled, the light in them dimming to nothing but exhaustion.

After witnessing what Kazuki had done, Junpei also screamed “Bank-Robber!” with pride. He felt great.