Derek was directed towards a man sitting by the ring.
" Yo, Felix, he is up for the next match "
Derek stepped forward.
Felix smirked, leaning back in his chair. "First-timers don't last long here."
Derek shrugged. "I'll take my chances."
Felix let out a low chuckle. "Fair enough. You got a name?"
"…Derek."
"No last names here, just firsts." Felix picked up a clipboard, scanning it before tapping his pen on the paper. "Alright, Derek. You're up in ten minutes. Pay's based on how well you do. You win, you get $500 per match. You lose, well… try not to get your face caved in."
Derek's fingers curled into fists. One win and he'd already be halfway to his goal.
Felix looked him over once more, then smirked. "Since you're new, I'll give you a warm-up match. Try not to die."
Derek exhaled slowly. "Who am I fighting?"
Felix glanced at the lineup, then chuckled. "Ah. Lucky you. You're up against Mason."
Derek frowned. "Who's Mason?"
Before Felix could answer, a shadow fell over Derek.
He turned.
Mason was massive.
A towering figure built like a tank, covered in tattoos and old fight scars. His knuckles were wrapped in bloodstained tape, and his expression was one of pure, apathetic menace.
"Oh," Derek muttered under his breath. "Great."
Mason cracked his knuckles, smirking down at him. "Fresh meat, huh? Hope you don't cry when I break you."
Derek forced a calm smirk onto his face, though his heart was already hammering. This was going to be rough.
But he had already made his choice.
There was no turning back now.
The crowd gathered quickly as Derek and Mason stepped into the roped-off section of the warehouse. The concrete floor felt cold under Derek's feet, but he barely registered it, his mind hyper-focused on the opponent before him.
Felix's voice rang out. "Alright, you two know the rules—no weapons, no killing, and if one of you taps out or gets knocked out, it's over. Understood?"
Mason grinned. "Yeah, yeah. Let's get this over with."
Derek just nodded, rolling his shoulders. He could feel his muscles responding faster than before. His strength, his speed—it was all different now.
The bell rang.
Mason charged.
Derek dodged to the side instinctively, faster than even he expected. Mason's fist swung past his face, missing by inches, and Derek felt the rush of air from the sheer force behind the punch.
Shit.
If that had hit him, it might have broken his jaw.
Mason didn't let up. He swung again—Derek barely managed to duck, rolling backward as the crowd roared in amusement.
Derek knew one thing.
Mason was a brawler—all raw power and aggression. If he let this fight drag on, he'd get overwhelmed.
He had to end it fast.
Mason lunged again—this time, Derek saw the opening.
He stepped in, twisting his body.
And struck.
His fist connected with Mason's ribs, and for a moment, Derek thought nothing had happened.
Then Mason stumbled.
Derek barely had time to process it—his punch had done more damage than he expected. Mason recovered quickly, snarling as he swung again.
Derek moved purely on instinct.
He sidestepped, drove his elbow into Mason's gut, and spun, smashing a kick into his knee.
Mason staggered.
Derek pressed forward.
One punch. Two. Then a sharp, brutal kick to the jaw.
Mason's head snapped back—and with a final, sickening crunch, he collapsed.
The warehouse fell silent.
Then, an eruption of cheers.
Derek's breathing was steady. His fists tingled from the impact, but otherwise… he felt fine.
Stronger, even.
Felix stepped forward, smirking. "Well, well. Looks like the new kid's got some bite."
He tossed a wad of cash at
He tossed a wad of cash at Derek, who caught it without thinking. The weight of the money in his hand felt heavier than expected—not because of its physical mass, but because of what it represented.
"Five hundred bucks," Felix said. "Not bad for your first fight."
Derek nodded, tucking the cash into his pocket. He scanned the crowd, noticing how some looked impressed while others regarded him with narrowed eyes. Not everyone liked seeing a newcomer rise so quickly.
Mason groaned, rolling onto his side. He spat blood onto the concrete and glared at Derek. "Lucky shot," he growled.
Derek didn't reply. He knew it wasn't luck. His body was different now. The system's changes had made him faster, stronger. This was just the beginning.
Felix clapped a hand on his shoulder, steering him toward the sidelines. "Alright, you get five minutes to breathe. Then we'll see if you've got more in you."
Derek exhaled, rolling his shoulders. His body still buzzed with energy, his muscles barely fatigued. A week ago, a fight like that would've left him exhausted. Now? He felt like he could keep going.
[System Notification]First Victory Achieved: +50 EXP, +10 System Credits.Congratulations! You're officially not the weakest guy in the room. Barely.
Derek blinked as the notification flashed in his vision. The system really had a way of keeping him humble. He clenched his fist, feeling the power surging beneath his skin.
A wiry man with sharp eyes and a calculating smirk approached. "Not bad, rookie," he said. "But don't let it get to your head. Mason was a brute. You'll face worse soon enough."
Felix grinned. "Oh, he will. Derek, meet your next opponent."
The wiry man cracked his knuckles. "Name's Rico. Let's see if you're really as good as you think."
Derek took a deep breath.
One fight down.
Derek rolled his shoulders, stepping back into the ring as the crowd murmured in anticipation. Rico was different from Mason. He wasn't a brute who relied on overwhelming strength—he was quick, calculated, and had the look of someone who had fought for survival more times than he could count.
Felix stood between them, raising a hand. "Alright, same rules. No weapons, no killing, and no bitching if you lose. Got it?"
Rico smirked. "I'll try not to break him too bad."
Derek remained silent, keeping his stance loose. He could already tell Rico was a counter-fighter—one who waited for his opponent to make a mistake. If Derek rushed in blindly, he'd be picking himself off the ground in seconds.
The bell rang.
Rico moved first.
A blur of motion—Derek barely caught it in time. Rico's fist shot toward his ribs, but Derek twisted, avoiding the strike by inches. Before he could counter, Rico was already repositioning, circling him like a predator.
Fast.
Derek narrowed his eyes, watching, waiting. Rico tested him with a few quick jabs, but Derek deflected them, refusing to take the bait. The crowd jeered, some yelling for action, but Derek ignored them. Rushing in would be playing into Rico's hands.
Rico clicked his tongue. "Smart. But let's see how long you can keep up."
Then he moved.
Derek barely had time to react before Rico closed the gap. A flurry of strikes rained down—jabs, hooks, feints—all too fast for an ordinary person to process. Derek blocked most, but a sharp blow to his side slipped through, sending a jolt of pain through his ribs.
He staggered back.
Rico grinned. "Not so cocky now, huh?"
Derek steadied himself. His stamina was better than before, his body stronger, but Rico was skilled. If he wanted to win, he needed to stop playing defensive.
The crowd pressed closer as Derek and Rico stepped into the makeshift ring. Unlike Mason, who relied on brute force, Rico was light on his feet, his stance loose, ready to move at a moment's notice.
Felix raised a hand. "Same rules. No weapons, no killing. Winner takes the cash. Fight!"
Rico dashed forward without hesitation, aiming a sharp jab at Derek's chin.
Derek barely dodged, feeling the wind of the strike pass by his face. Rico was fast. Much faster than Mason.
Derek countered with a quick punch to the ribs, but Rico twisted, avoiding the blow effortlessly. The man was slippery, reading Derek's movements like an open book.
"Too slow," Rico taunted, smirking.
Derek gritted his teeth. Rico was good—too good for a straight-up exchange. He needed something extra.
[Quickstep Activated]
The moment the system notification flashed, Derek's body reacted. Energy surged through his legs, and before he could even think, he moved.
In a blur, Derek vanished from Rico's sight, reappearing at his flank.
Rico's eyes widened. "What the—?!"
Derek struck.
His fist connected cleanly with Rico's ribs. The impact sent a shockwave through the wiry man's body, forcing him to stumble sideways.
But Derek wasn't done.
[Quickstep Activated]
Another burst of speed. Rico barely had time to recover before Derek was behind him, slamming an elbow into his back.
Rico lurched forward, gasping. The crowd roared, stunned by Derek's sudden speed.
He tried to turn, but Derek was already moving.
With one final use of Quickstep, Derek appeared right in front of him and drove a brutal uppercut into his jaw.
Rico's head snapped back.
For a moment, he stood there, dazed—then his legs buckled, and he collapsed onto the cold concrete.
Silence.
Then, an explosion of cheers and shouts.
Derek let out a slow breath, his heart hammering. His fists tingled, his muscles humming with energy. Quickstep—that had been something else. It didn't just make him fast. It made him untouchable.
Felix whistled, stepping forward. "Holy shit, kid. What the hell was that?"
Derek just smirked, wiping the sweat from his brow. "Just adapting."
Felix laughed, tossing another wad of cash at him. "I like you.
Derek caught the money, his fingers tightening around it. Two fights. Two wins. He had made the money in one night.