Chapter 8: Blood Ties
The underground chambers of Beast's Maw were colder than usual. Ryo's breath turned to mist as he stepped into a narrow hallway dimly lit by flickering overhead bulbs. His bruised knuckles ached with every pulse, and the dull pain in his ribs reminded him of Gorath's bone-shattering strength. But none of it compared to the weight pressing on his chest—the memory of what his mysterious ally had whispered just hours ago.
"I know where Ren is."
The voice still rang in his ears. The man, shrouded in shadows, hadn't given a name—just a battered face with one eye shut and a scar that traced his jaw like a crooked signature of survival. He'd fought with strange precision in his last match, but it wasn't his skill that caught Ryo's attention—it was what he knew.
Ryo's fists tightened. He was closer than ever to finding his brother, yet a dark unease stirred inside him. His gut told him the truth wouldn't come easy—and it wouldn't be clean.
As he turned a corner, the corridor opened into a confined room lined with rusted lockers and benches bolted to the concrete floor. Taro stood near the back, arms crossed, eyes on Ryo.
"You look like you've seen a ghost," Taro said.
"I might have," Ryo muttered.
Taro gestured for him to sit. "You're not scheduled for another fight yet. Use the time wisely."
"I need answers, not rest."
Taro's brow furrowed. "Answers will come at a cost. Everything here does."
Ryo sighed. He was tired of riddles, tired of secrets. He needed truth. He needed Ren.
Later that night, Ryo found himself back in the fighters' quarters, unable to sleep. The whispers of the man—who now went by Kaito—played over and over in his head.
"Ren didn't disappear. He was taken," Kaito had said, his voice a low growl. "And not just by chance. He was chosen."
"Chosen? For what?"
Kaito had glanced around nervously. "For something bigger than this tournament. Your brother… he helped build the very thing destroying these fighters."
Ryo had frozen at those words. "You're lying."
"I wish I was."
The next day brought no clarity—only more chaos. As Ryo waited in the bleachers for his turn in the ring, he kept his eyes on Kaito, who was leaning against a nearby pillar, motionless. Every few minutes, their eyes would meet, and Kaito would offer a slight nod—as if confirming what he'd told Ryo the night before.
Ryo's thoughts raced. Could Ren really have been involved in the creation of the Fang Serum?
The serum was a monster in liquid form. It twisted fighters into frenzied beasts, stripping them of identity, humanity, and memory. But it was also the cornerstone of the tournament's violence, the source of every unspeakable act committed within the Maw's walls.
If Ren had played a role in its birth…
Ryo couldn't finish the thought.
Later that evening, Kaito finally approached him.
"There's someone you need to meet," he said without preamble.
"Who?"
"The man who trained Ren."
They left the quarters quietly, avoiding the prying eyes of guards. Kaito seemed to know the layout of the Maw better than most, weaving through back corridors and descending staircases that groaned under their weight.
Eventually, they reached a sealed metal door, guarded by a keypad and retinal scanner.
"You're going to need to trust me," Kaito said, pulling out a metallic card.
The door slid open with a hiss, revealing a dim, candle-lit chamber filled with old equipment, books, and a large cylindrical tank filled with thick red fluid. Inside the tank, a man floated—unconscious but alive. Tubes snaked into his arms, and his chest rose and fell with slow, mechanical precision.
"Who is he?" Ryo asked.
Kaito's eyes didn't leave the tank. "His name is Dr. Yusuke Arai. He was once a respected biochemist—a genius. He's the man who designed the first version of the Fang Serum. Ren was his apprentice."
Ryo's stomach twisted.
"No," he whispered.
"Yes," Kaito said softly. "Your brother joined the research team after your parents died. He wanted to end the wars between the fighting clans. He thought he could create something to level the playing field—a controlled enhancement serum."
"But it didn't go that way."
Kaito nodded grimly. "Someone else got involved. The syndicate that owns this tournament. They twisted the formula, made it into a weapon. Ren tried to stop them. When he failed, he ran."
"So the Ren I knew... he's still in there?"
Kaito turned to face him fully now, his expression unreadable. "Maybe. But if he is, he's buried beneath a lot of blood and guilt."
Ryo stepped closer to the tank, staring at the unconscious man. The flickering light danced on the glass, casting reflections that made it look like the man inside was shifting, breathing more deeply.
"What happened to him?"
"He tried to expose the truth. They silenced him before he could speak. I found him half-dead, dragged him here, and kept him alive ever since."
Ryo was silent for a long moment. Then he turned to Kaito.
"Why are you helping me?"
"Because your brother saved my life," Kaito replied, his voice laced with memory. "And because I see the same fire in your eyes."
The days that followed blurred into one another.
Ryo's matches became more brutal, his body pushed to its limit each time. But his mind wasn't on survival anymore—it was on unraveling the truth. The deeper he dug, the more he uncovered a vast network of lies, betrayal, and corruption.
The tournament wasn't just about blood sport. It was a testbed. A controlled environment where enhanced fighters were studied, documented, and modified. Each dose of the serum was recorded. Each transformation cataloged.
And Ren's name appeared again and again in the early stages of the project.
Sometimes as a researcher. Sometimes as a test subject.
Ryo's heart broke each time he saw it. His brother had been trying to play both sides—to fix the problem from within. And somewhere along the way, he'd gotten lost.
The final straw came when Ryo found an old recording, buried deep within the archive files Kaito had managed to access.
It was Ren.
He looked thinner, more tired than Ryo remembered. But it was undeniably him.
"If you're watching this, I've either failed or I've disappeared. Either way, I need you to understand… I never meant for it to become this. I tried to stop it, but they were too powerful. The serum wasn't supposed to destroy lives—it was meant to protect them. But I couldn't stop them in time. If Ryo ever finds this… I'm sorry. I never wanted him to follow me into this hell."
The video ended with static.
Ryo stood frozen in front of the screen. His hands clenched, tears threatening to fall—but he blinked them away. There was no time for grief.
Only resolve.
Ren hadn't abandoned him. He had been fighting his own war all along.
And now it was Ryo's turn to finish what his brother had started.
That night, Ryo returned to the ring for his next match. The announcer's voice boomed through the speakers, hyping up the bloodthirsty crowd.
But Ryo didn't hear any of it.
He was already staring down his opponent, a snarling, hulking brute laced with serum-induced muscle and rage. Another mindless pawn in the system's cruel game.
Ryo raised his fists.
He wouldn't just fight for survival anymore.
He would fight for the truth.
For Ren.
For every soul twisted by this nightmare.
The bell rang.
And the war continued.