Kleave was someone I knew from my original timeline. He had lent me a helping hand when I had lost everyone and everything. I was at my lowest point, having just had two fingers cut off for attempting to steal a loaf of moldy bread when Kleave found me and offered me a job.

Whether he had saved me or brought me down further into the abyss, however, I couldn't really say. The line of work he introduced me into brought me into a whole new dimension of filth within Adovoria. My nightmares and reality became interchangeable, with the only cure at the bottom of many bottles. But at least thanks to him, I managed to survive and see the next day each morning.

My eyes slanted with disgust towards the glass of champagne offered to me.

"This champagne came from the Daylan Dynasty's southern valley vineyards. This bottle was one of only a hundred produced," the smiling waitress explained.

"I prefer to stick to tea," I told her and shooed her away.

I didn't need a drink or two to stir up those gruesome memories back up to the surface.

My eyes turned to the thin young man with faded pink hair standing inside the cage. Kleave and The Ogre walked in a circle in their arena, each observing their opponent. The Ogre towered over the small Kleave, who was a good head shorter than me.

Despite knowing the outcome, I gripped my hands together and leaned forward in my seat. I knew Kleave would win, but I couldn't help but feel concerned.

Kleave had questionable morals and was quite the conniving bastard. But at the same time, he had earnestly looked out for me in my original life. He saved my neck on countless occasions. And unfortunately, I couldn't do the same for him. My last memory of him was of his slender body swinging in the cold dawn morning. His thin neck was wrapped in a tight noose. A swarm of black crows feasted on his limp, hanging flesh.

My hands tightened seeing The Ogre make his first move in the arena. He lunged at Kleave and swung a massive club embedded in nails and spikes.

Given its massive weight, one might think it would swing slowly. However, The Ogre moved it as quickly as if it were a regular branch.

SMASH!!

The arena shook from the impact, and a cloud of dust lifted from the floor.

Kleave had twirled away just in time and avoided impact. His large blue eyes, slightly hooded by his eyelids, maintained a steady gaze towards The Ogre. If there was any nervousness within him, it was impossible to read from his face.

“AAAAAAAAMAZING! Our contender, Kleave, has managed to evade The Ogre's 'death-smash.' However, will he be to do the same for next time?" The announcer's voice boomed.

On cue, The Ogre swung his club sideways at Kleave's head.

However, Kleave dropped into a split just as the club passed the area where his head had been. He rolled away and stood up. His expression looked unfazed.

A smirk filled my face seeing The Ogre's displeased expression. A vein seemed to protrude from his forehead.

No, rather than unfazed, Kleave looked bored.

I remembered how that same expression drove his opponents mad and made them lunge forward to wipe it off his face.

"WOWWW! Would you look at that? Kleave the Kid has managed to evade yet another attack!"

I choked on my black tea, hearing the commentary.

"Napkin?" Henry offered me as I laughed and coughed.

I nodded in thanks and accepted it. I wiped the spilled tea away and looked over at Kleave.

Kleave was two years older than me. At this point in time, he was twenty-one. Unfortunately, because of his small stature and short height, he was often mislabelled to be far younger than he actually was.

In the arena, I saw Kleave's large eyes roll up towards the speaker before gazing back at The Ogre.

Kleave hated being called a "kid." It was a sore spot for him. He never lashed out if called one; he simply rolled his eyes and seemed to ignore it. However, a few drinks in him was a whole other story. In that situation, calling him a "kid" was equivalent to asking if he could kindly push you into your next life.

The Ogre took advantage of the slight distraction and lunged at Kleave, swinging his club diagonally at his neck and torso. Or at least he attempted to take advantage of the situation.

Kleave simply stepped left and evaded the attack. He let out a giant yawn.

I laughed to myself seeing The Ogre's bald head gain a new protruding vein. His jaw clenched.

He must have assumed Kleave was bored and not taking the fight seriously. But, in reality, Kleave was just tired. He was perpetually sleep-deprived and often would fall asleep in the most extraordinary of situations.

BANGGG!!

The Ogre swung his club at Kleave's head and hit the caged stage. However, Kleave had done another split and roll to another part of the stage. It was hard to see, but I saw his left hand flick something.

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The cage rang from the impact of the club against it. Meanwhile, Kleave let out another massive yawn from where he stood up.

"Kleave the Kid has managed to evade The Ogre's attacks not just once, twice, or thrice…. BUT FOUR TIMES NOW!! Incredible!"

My eyes moved toward the other booths in the circular area. A murmur of voices emanated from them. Interest in the first round had taken hold of them.

They probably thought The Ogre would pummel Kleave into a paste by now, but he didn't have so much as a scratch on him.

A shrill woman's laugh caught my attention from the booth on the fifth floor. I couldn't see her, but I recognized that laugh.

I rolled my eyes.

Of course, Anastasia Genuiver is a patron of such bloody entertainment.

"YOU!" The Ogre roared in the arena at Kleave. "Stop running away from me and FIGHT ME!"

"Who says I'm not fighting you?" Kleave's voice came out deep. It had a thick raspiness that one might not have expected given his appearance.

"You are just running around and dancing in the arena! Now fight me!" The Ogre lunged forward and swung his club up diagonally.

However, Kleave twirled under his massive arms, and I saw him flick something towards The Ogre again. This time I saw what left his hand. A matte silver needle.

Needles and poison. They were Kleave's favorite types of weapons.

In my original life, I recalled him explaining his preference for them. 'I can't, in practicality, lug around a heavy sword. And daggers are still too conspicuous. But needles? I can have hundreds of them, and no one would notice.'

The needles he used weren't the same as those one sewed with. They had a slight curve on one end to allow for his fingers to grip them easier. It was a design his girlfriend came up with.

And the poison was never the same. Some might kill you on the spot. Others might paralyse one part of the body. Another might make you believe that your teeth are full of maggots.

They were all lovingly developed by Kleave's girlfriend as well. Not that I had ever met her. She was killed during the period that Kleave was stuck in jail. This was a year or so before he met me.

What kind of poison do these needles have?

My eyes evaluated The Ogre and any changes in his demeanor since the fight had started.

The only noticeable effect was that he was increasingly frustrated at Kleave's apparent disregard for their battle. He continued to swing his club towards Kleave, gradually reducing the stage to broken bits of stone and dust. However, he had yet to land a single blow on Kleave.

Perhaps it's a slow-acting poison? Or enabled only after the turn-key needle struck the victim?

I rubbed my chin in thought. I saw Kleave toss more needles inconspicuously at The Ogre, who himself had not yet noticed them yet.

Maybe they have some sort of numbing poison?

"ARGHHGGG!!!" The Ogre whacked the arena floor repeatedly in anger, attempting to pound Kleave down, but Kleave stepped aside at the last moment, evading each attack. A cloud of smoke drifted up from the arena.

Or maybe whatever it was brought out his opponent's extra anger and irrational behavior?

"He's been able to evade all of his attacks, but if just one attack from The Ogre lands on him, he'll be squashed," Henry commented.

"None of the attacks will land." I picked up a few freshly cut apricots and peaches with a fork and slipped them between my lips. Their sweetness enveloped my mouth.

It may have appeared divinely lucky to the casual observer that Kleave had managed to evade all attacks so far. However, I knew that apart from the usual arsenal of poisoned needles, he also had a stash of substances to help improve his own performance.

He probably used one that improves his reflexes.

Kleave had let me try it once. It made the world seem to move at a snail's pace; it was almost comical watching someone attempt to throw a punch at me.

There was a price, however. I threw up the entirety of my stomach the next day. Each substance had its own adverse reaction.

"FIGHT ME, YOU SHRIMP!!" The Ogre yelled out. His face was bright red, and his bare chest glistened with sweat.

Kleave, on the other hand, looked perhaps a little dusty from all the flying debris, but otherwise, he looked unfazed. His hands remained in his shorts' pockets, only coming out to toss a needle when The Ogre was distracted.

The Ogre leaned against the cage and glared at Kleave. He seemed to deem it necessary to take a break and think through his next move.

Kleave took this pause in the fight to pull out a pink glass perfume bottle and spray himself down. In my opinion, he might as well have poured the entirety of the bottle over his head. It would have been more efficient than his fifty or so pumps.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING???" The Ogre roared. "WE'RE IN THE MIDDLE OF A FIGHT! YOU—"

The Ogre lunged at Kleave but reverted back. His club dropped with a heavy thud as both hands moved reflexively towards his nose.

His eyes bulged out. "WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU SPRAY??"

I sniffed the air and smiled.

"It's just jasmine, isn't it?" Henry asked.

"Indeed. It's a jasmine perfume," I agreed.

However, to The Ogre, it was something else entirely. My suspicion was that the poison that Kleave inflicted on him was one that drastically changed one's perception of a smell.

I recalled Kleave's description of how this type of poison worked. 'Imagine the foulest smell possible. Now make it a hundred times more potent. The horror is unimaginable. You have to experience it to understand.'

Whatever The Ogre was smelling must have been mind-bogglingly horrendous.

"Get–away–don't come closer!" The Ogre barely managed to get the words out between coughs. His back was pushed against one of the cage's walls; his voice sounded desperate as Kleave got progressively closer.

The announcer and the rest of the audience stared at the spectacle in stunned silence.

Meanwhile, Kleave pulled out a white handkerchief and doused it with the remaining jasmine perfume. Then, he held the wet handkerchief in one hand and continued to walk towards The Ogre.

"GET ME OUT!" The giant man roared. He turned his back to Kleave and ripped apart the thick steel cage. The shriek of metal bending filled the arena. Looking at the black strengthening mana stones embedded throughout the cage, I could tell it had been built strong enough to withstand even someone like The Ogre, but a cornered rat can gnaw through the hardest barrier.

Unfortunately, the cat that cornered the rat was fast approaching. With each of Kleave's steps towards him, The Ogre made additional gagging noises and sounded like he might throw up any moment.

A confused murmur went through the audience. The only smell any of us could percieve was a charming jasmine fragrance.

"Ladies and gentlemen… This is my first time seeing a battle such as this. I am as confused as you are," the announcer spoke for the first time in a while.

Despite the unusual fight, none of the casino guards went to stop The Ogre from attempting to rip apart the cage nor reprimand Kleave for his unique tactic. I gazed over at a nearby concierge. Her red lips were in an excited smile as she whispered something into the ruby mana stone on her sleeve.

The reality was that this was entertainment for the guests here. It didn't matter what the entertainment was. The more unusual and exciting it was, the better it was for The Gilded Siren's business.

"Get me…Out!" The Ogre's words came out slurred. He managed to rip off a few mana-strengthened bars, but Kleave was now just three steps away. The Ogre turned with fearful eyes towards Kleave.

Kleave lifted the white napkin and flicked the handkerchief towards The Ogre's face.

It was as if a magic trick was performed before us.

THUD.

The Ogre's eyes rolled back, and he fell to the ground, crumbling into a giant mass of flesh. A massive cloud of dust filled the arena one final time.

Everyone stared down in stunned silence. A giant grin formed on my face, knowing the killing I had made on this one bet.