“You want me to do what?” I asked, my voice thick with disbelief.

  It had been more than a week since the farcical preliminary exam, and my life had settled back into the grim routine I’d grown somewhat used to: wake up, train, lose, train some more, and occasionally, when my body couldn’t go any longer, sleep. The bruises I collected in those hours were becoming familiar companions, while the elusive hope of improvement continued to dance just out of reach.

  That routine, for all its soul-crushing monotony, had become almost comforting in its predictability. Until today.

  It started like any other. I was in the middle of another grueling round in the training room, trying to chip away at my limits when Enzo’s assistant appeared, expression hard as ever.

  She wasted no time, telling me that Enzo had a task for me. A task. What the hell could that mean? Naturally, I agreed. What choice did I really have? The Underground wasn’t exactly a democracy. Also, her scowl gave me the distinct impression that defying her would only end in pain, and I didn’t fancy finding out how bad that pain could be.

  On the way to Enzo’s office, we passed two hooded figures in the corridor. They moved in eerie silence, but even under their cloaks, there was something about their movements that set my instincts on edge. One was smaller, more compact, while the other loomed like a tower, but I’d learned that size didn’t mean much down here in The Underground. Underestimating someone could get you killed.

  As they brushed past, the smaller figure nudged me, and for a fleeting moment, I caught sight of a smile—a sly, knowing curve of the lips—before they continued on their way. The taller one’s eyes lingered a second longer, burning into me with unsettling intensity before they both vanished around a corner.

  The assistant snapped her fingers in front of my face, dragging me out of the fog that brief encounter had pulled me into. She didn’t say a word, just pushed me into the office with an impatient shove.

  Inside, Enzo lounged on his oversized couch, nursing a familiar bottle of truth serum. He waved for me to sit, which I did, though not without a rising sense of unease. As I settled into the chair across from him, he did something unexpected—he put the drink away. It was an odd move, not because I thought he was an alcoholic, but it was a gesture that suggested he didn't need the drink. Which was far scarier than him actually using it.

  Was he trying to make me feel more comfortable? Or was I about to get into something way over my head?

  “So,” he began, and I braced for whatever insanity was about to spill out of his mouth, “you’re a really shitty fighter.”

  I blinked. “Thanks, Enzo. Great pep talk.”

  He chuckled, the sound thick with amusement. “You’re improving, sure, but what did you expect when you came here? This is the largest underground fighting ring on this side of the territory, kid. You didn’t seriously think you’d be up against a bunch of weaklings, did you?”

  That stung, though I couldn’t argue with him. I had, somehow, in my desperation, imagined there would be fighters closer to my level. That delusion had died quickly after my first beating. Still, I wasn’t exactly in a position to do much research before signing my life away to The Underground.

  “I didn’t have a lot of options,” I muttered, avoiding his eyes.

  “Probably not,” he agreed, leaning forward with a gleam in his eye that set off all kinds of alarms in my head. “But you’re in luck. I’ve got a perfect opportunity for you.”

  The smile that followed sent a chill crawling down my spine. Enzo’s "opportunities" definitely couldn't be good news.

  “What kind of opportunity?” I asked, trying and failing to keep the nervous edge out of my voice. A desperate hope whispered in the back of my mind: Please don’t make me do something illegal. Please don’t make me do something illegal.

  He stood up, a predatory grin spreading across his face. “Ever heard of The Hunters?”

  I blinked again. The Hunters? I’d been expecting him to rope me into some under-the-table job for cash, not whatever this was.

  “No,” I said, shaking my head slowly.

  “The Hunters,” he said, pacing now, “are an illegal organization of rogue Azenci and other high-class fighters. The world governments despise them. But I have to admit, they’re damn good at what they do. I’ve even hired them a few times.”

  Illegal, but not that illegal.

  His explanation left more questions than answers, but I wasn’t about to ask. I had a feeling I didn’t want to know too much about them.

  “So… what does this have to do with me?” I ventured, wary of where this conversation was heading.

  Enzo stopped pacing and sat down next to me, his breath heavy with the scent of alcohol. The serum was scentless on its own but by god did it smell horrendous coming out of his mouth.

  His sudden proximity made my muscles tense.

  “You’re a great fighter, kid. I mean, people come just to watch you get your ass handed to you. It’s entertaining. But don’t you think your talents are wasted here?”

  I frowned. Was that supposed to be a compliment? The way he said it almost sounded like he pitied me, which only deepened my suspicion. I didn’t respond, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

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  “They need someone for a job,” he said, his voice low and conspiratorial. “I told them I’d send my best man.”

  That sent alarm bells ringing in my head. His best man? That definitely wasn’t me. I wanted to bolt, but before I could open my mouth to refuse, he raised a hand.

  “Hold on, don’t say anything yet. It’s simple. You’ll join a five-man squad. There’s a simple tournament, and your job is to enter, fight, and gain the trust of one very important and evil man. That’s it.”

  Evil?

  I opened my mouth to protest, but he pressed on, cutting me off.

  “And before you start thinking this is too much, listen to this. If you do this for me, I’ll sponsor your first year at the Academy. Full scholarship. You won’t have to worry about a single thing—food, gear, Heartile enhancements—all taken care of.”

  That stopped me cold. A full ride at the Academy. No debt, no scraping by. Freedom to focus entirely on getting stronger, without the gnawing fear of where my next meal was coming from.

  My resolve cracked. “Deal!” I blurted, thrusting out my hand before I could stop myself.

  Enzo’s grin widened as he shook my hand, sealing the deal. “Knew you’d see reason. Go tell Ria you’re in. She’ll give you the details.”

  ‘Ria. That’s a surprisingly nice name for such a cold woman,’ I thought, watching her approach with that ever-present scowl etched into her features.

  She stood waiting for me outside of Enzo’s office, clutching a sleek black briefcase in her hand. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Enzo had known all along I’d agree to his offer. The moment he mentioned money, I’d been as good as sold. Greed had a funny way of convincing people to take chances, and I wasn’t offended by that—hell, I was living proof. I had to survive, and survival didn’t exactly leave room for principles.

  Wordlessly, Ria handed me the briefcase, her eyes scanning me like a machine sizing up its next task. She didn’t bother to explain what was inside, and I didn’t bother asking. Knowing the way this place operated, it was probably better not to know until the moment I absolutely had to.

  “Follow me,” she said, her voice as cold and direct as ever.

  Without another word, we started walking through the narrow, dimly lit tunnels of The Underground, the air thick with the scent of damp stone and grime. I had grown used to these tunnels, the twisted labyrinth beneath the city where whispers of illegal deals and brutal fights echoed through the darkness. But today, there was something different about this walk. My gut twisted with unease, and the briefcase felt heavier in my hand with every step we took.

  After what felt like an eternity, Ria broke the silence. “A car is waiting for you outside. You’ll be driven to a private hangar. From there, a ship will take you to the mission site.”

  I raised an eyebrow but said nothing, letting her continue.

  “You’ll be briefed more thoroughly on the ship by the rest of your team. But here’s what you need to know now.” She didn’t look back at me as she spoke, her voice calm and detached as if she were listing off mundane tasks. “You’ll be entered into a high-stakes fighting tournament. The prize is access to a very powerful man’s inner circle. Your mission is to gain his trust as quickly as possible, get close to him, and then... isolate him.”

  Same explanation I got from Enzo? What was the point in her telling me? Though that last part stuck out like a sore thumb.

  Her eyes flicked over to me briefly, confirming what I’d already suspected: this wasn’t just a con job. It was setting up for an assassination. My mouth went dry.

  Once she saw the realization hit, she continued, “After that, you’ll be relieved of your duties and returned here. It’s simple enough. Play your role, don’t screw it up, and you’ll be back before the Academy exams.”

  My stomach churned as she spoke. The words sounded easy, but I knew better than to trust anything about this plan. Nothing was ever as simple as it seemed in The Underground. Especially not for me.

  I nodded, but doubt gnawed at my insides. Sure, I’d agreed to the job, but hearing the full scope of it now, the stakes felt higher. It wasn’t just about gaining some criminal’s trust—it was about survival. And the biggest issue? I was supposed to win in a fighting tournament. The one thing I thought I would be good at had become the bane of my existence. I hadn’t won a single match in The Underground, yet somehow I was supposed to succeed in a more dangerous arena?

  It felt like a death sentence.

  We emerged from the tunnels into a dingy alleyway, the air thick with the smell of rotting garbage and stale rain. Ria pointed towards a black, nondescript car idling near the curb, its windows heavily tinted.

  “That’s your ride. Hand the driver the briefcase when you get inside,” she instructed, her tone as clinical as ever. Without another word, she turned on her heel and disappeared back into the shadows of the tunnel, leaving me alone in the alley.

  I stared down at the briefcase in my hand, still unsure of its contents. ‘Didn’t even tell me what’s in here,’ I thought, but shrugged it off. Curiosity could get you killed faster than ignorance in this world. I think.

  With a resigned sigh, I approached the car, tapping on the door in the specific rhythm Ria had shown me. After a brief pause, the door clicked open, and I slipped inside. The drivers side hadn't opened, so I held onto the briefcase. It was probably nothing important anyway.

  The interior of the car was unnervingly sleek, like the kind of luxury a person could only dream of—or afford with dirty money. The back half was long and lined with leather seats, and the middle space was fitted with an empty drink stand. A tinted partition separated me from the driver, giving the whole space a claustrophobic feel. The windows were so dark that no light penetrated, and I broke into a nervous sweat almost immediately.

  Two figures sat across from me in the back—hooded and silent. The same two who had bumped into me earlier. My pulse quickened, but I kept my expression neutral, hoping they couldn’t hear the thudding in my chest.

  After a tense silence, the larger figure finally spoke. “You’re too weak,” she said, her voice a low growl, though distinctly feminine. “If you endanger this mission in any way, I’ll kill you myself.”

  The cold certainty in her voice made my stomach clench. There was no bravado, no empty threat—it was a promise. I nodded, my throat too tight to form words.

  “I assume the assistant briefed you on the basics?” the larger figure continued, her voice still laced with the same cold authority.

  “Yeah,” I managed to croak, my voice barely above a whisper.

  “Good,” she said, leaning back into the seat. “We’ll arrive at the hangar in two hours. Rest while you can.”

  “Rest?” I frowned, confused. “What do you—”

  Before I could finish my sentence, the smaller figure moved like a blur, lunging at me with startling speed. I barely had time to register what was happening before I felt the sharp sting of a needle piercing my neck. My hand shot up instinctively to yank the syringe out, but it was too late. The drug hit me fast, my limbs turning to lead as my vision started to blur. I tried to speak, to protest, but my words slurred into incomprehensible sounds.

  Panic surged through me, but I was helpless against the drug’s effects. Darkness clawed at the edges of my sight, and within moments, I was gone—plunged into the void.

  The world disappeared around me, swallowed by unconsciousness, leaving me in the grip of whatever nightmare awaited me next.