RVHF chapter 6

* * *

The stage had already turned a deep red.

Both were drenched in blood, panting heavily.

Judging by the atmosphere, it seemed like the match would end soon.

“It was an electric type, huh.”

As expected, the result came not long after.

The fighter wrapped in electricity knocked down the opponent.

As more matches continued, the arena grew increasingly heated.

Amidst the almost collective frenzy, Doyoung watched indifferently.

Three fighters switched out, and then, a figure appeared on the empty stage.

“Oooh…”

“Who’s this fluffy rookie?”

“Hey, kid! Go home and drink more milk!”

The hall erupted in mockery and ridicule.

It made sense; the boy didn’t look a day over twenty.

He had a slight build, a pale, delicate face that seemed out of place here.

Even the large sword in his hand seemed too heavy for him.

But the boy standing on stage remained unfazed, not reacting.

‘Found him.’

In contrast, Doyoung’s eyes gleamed with anticipation.

Soon, another fighter entered from the opposite side.

He was at least a head taller than the boy and twice as broad, a hulking figure.

“Uoooohhh!”

The giant roared at the boy, as if trying to assert dominance.

“Good energy!”

“Finish him quickly.”

Amid the jeers and cheers, the fight began.

At first, it looked like the boy was being overwhelmed.

He was outmatched in size, strength, and skill.

“He’s got grit.”

Still, the boy persistently pressed on, attacking his opponent without giving up.

Even if he swung his sword like a club, unable to wield it properly.

Well, that was because the sword was as big as he was.

‘He’s agile, and his reflexes aren’t bad either.’

But the moment he was waiting for hadn’t come yet.

Thud. Thud. Thud, thud.

At last, the boy was grabbed by the collar and subjected to a flurry of punches.

The sword he held clattered to the floor.

Doyoung’s gaze shifted briefly to the sword before focusing back on the boy’s face.

Blood splattered with each hit, and his limp body swayed as if he had lost consciousness.

“It’s over.”

“I had some hope, too.”

“Ugh.”

The crowd seemed to share the sentiment as sighs of disappointment echoed around.

Anyone could see that the larger fighter seemed poised to win.

“Now, it’s getting interesting.”

But Doyoung was different. The corners of his mouth curled up.

“What’s happening?”

“Whoa!”

Gasps of shock rippled through the crowd.

The boy, who had been curled up on the floor, taking kicks, began to change.

“Uwooohhhh—.”

In an instant, he transformed into a wolf three times the size of his opponent.

A werewolf.

◇◆◇◆◇

After the match, Doyoung pushed through the noisy crowd toward the area where the fighters’ waiting rooms were likely located.

No one stopped him, allowing him to reach the farthest room with ease.

There, the person he was looking for sat haphazardly on the dirt floor.

“Yeo Giwon.”

A small head snapped up.

“Who are you?”

Gone was the fierce beast that looked ready to tear apart its opponent moments ago; in its place was a youthful, innocent face.

“You don’t need to know.”

Doyoung spat out, his lips curling wryly.

He thought to himself that he could act villainous enough without a system prompt as he spoke again.

“Just remember that I’m the one who’s going to pull you out of the bottom.”

Wide eyes opened in disbelief. But Doyoung didn’t intend to explain everything now.

He’d show him instead. Under one condition.

“But from now on, you must obey me unconditionally.”

◇◆◇◆◇

The western sky burned crimson.

“Stunning.”

Doyoung remarked at the scenery, which seemed almost apocalyptic.

The wide river reflected the red sky in an uncanny way.

The speeding car soon stopped in the office building’s parking lot.

“Get out.”

Doyoung commanded as he exited the car.

The back door clicked open, and Yeo Giwon stepped out hesitantly.

Without a word, just as in the arena, Doyoung moved forward.

Yeo Giwon, glancing around nervously, quickly followed to avoid losing sight of him.

“Where is this place?”

Once inside the elevator, Yeo Giwon, who stood pressed into a corner, asked. Doyoung kept his eyes on the changing floor numbers and didn’t answer.

When they reached the designated floor, the doors opened, and they walked down the hall.

Doyoung tapped a card key on a closed door.

“You’re here?”

A large figure appeared as soon as the door opened.

It took a blink for Doyoung to realize it was Beom Sinje.

“…Yeah.”

The lighting made him seem even bigger than usual, but that was the only reason.

He definitely hadn’t flinched out of surprise.

No way.

“Who’s this?”

Fortunately, Beom Sinje didn’t seem to notice anything unusual about Doyoung.

He was curiously looking behind him.

“Ah… This is Yeo Giwon. He’ll be joining you at the training school.”

Both Beom Sinje and Yeo Giwon looked at him with surprised expressions.

Why were they both staring at him like that?

‘Adorable.’

It felt like watching two dogs meet for the first time on a walking trail.

One was a Siberian husky, the other… hmm…

‘A chihuahua?’

Well, not exactly cute when transformed, but still.

Doyoung brought the two, who were awkwardly exchanging glances, inside.

While preparing dinner, he instructed Yeo Giwon to wash up and ordered new clothes over the phone.

He asked Beom Sinje to talk about what he had done that day, but instead, Beom Sinje seemed more interested in why Doyoung had brought Yeo Giwon.

“He reminded me of you.”

This drew a curious look from Beom Sinje.

“What? Why?”

“Never mind.”

When Doyoung answered sharply, he quickly dropped it.

‘Big guy but surprisingly gentle.’

Suppressing a smirk, Doyoung turned to the kitchen.

They dined as a trio.

To mark Beom Sinje’s upcoming entry into the training school, they had a toast with drinks.

Since it was both their first time trying alcohol, Beom Sinje and Yeo Giwon looked flustered, so Doyoung refilled their glasses a few times.

It didn’t take long for Yeo Giwon and Beom Sinje to get along, probably because they were close in age.

‘Good to see.’

Originally, Yeo Giwon was Na Doyoung’s subordinate and Beom Sinje’s greatest rival.

Yeo Giwon, who had awakened as an Esper, had no one to support him and ended up caught by the worst kind of people.

The brokers of an illegal fighting ring.

After enduring five brutal years as a fighter and becoming corrupted, Yeo Giwon destroyed the arena and joined Doyoung’s organization.

They were destined to die together.

‘Better to make him an ally to the protagonist.’

The boy still had a bright future.

That’s why Doyoung had tracked him down and finally found him on his debut day.

‘Good thing I did.’

Doyoung had paid a fortune to buy Yeo Giwon’s freedom from those brokers.

They hadn’t cared about his potential.

Just the money.

That had worked in his favor.

Watching the two exchange stories about their abilities and awakenings, Doyoung stood up.

“Wait a moment.”

Leaving the two who were staring up at him in confusion, Doyoung disappeared for a moment.

When he returned, he had a large sword strapped to his back and a pair of gloves in one hand.

“W-wait! Is that…?!”

It was Yeo Giwon who reacted first, recognizing the massive sword as the one Doyoung had swung like a club just hours earlier.

“It’s not for you. It’s a gift for Beom Sinjae.”

With that, Doyoung placed it next to Beom Sinjae.

He had two reasons for visiting the illegal fight ring: to bring back Yeo Giwon and to acquire this greatsword.

Made from the byproducts of a dungeon, its blade was a deep, dark color, which had led its accidental brokers to overlook its true value.

‘It might not be perfect for Beom Sinjae later, but it’s A-grade, which is more than enough.’

Bringing anything higher-grade to the training academy would just draw unwanted attention.

Even an A-grade sword was already excessive for a freshman, but Doyoung allowed himself that indulgence.

‘I can at least gift this to my favorite.’

He casually tossed the gloves in front of Yeo Giwon.

“These are custom-made. Don’t lose them.”

Overcome with emotion, Yeo Giwon quickly slipped on the gloves, eyes wide with admiration.

“Whoa… these are so cool….”

“Your choice of words….”

Doyoung felt a touch of exasperation but was reminded of their youth; they had just turned twenty.

Clicking his tongue, he turned away when he felt a sharp stare.

Beom Sinjae was watching them intently without even touching the sword.

“Just use it. It’s not that expensive. Besides, it’s better than punching.”

“Why?”

The unexpected question made Doyoung pause before responding with a brusque tone.

“Because it looks cool.”

* * *