The big room was silent, except for the hum of the fluorescent lights and the slow, rhythmic tapping of Woo-yong's ringed fingers against the hard leather of his sofa. The thick concrete walls preventing any sounds escaping from the outside world, this specific match isn't for those usual gamblers or bloodthirsy audience, it was just for him.

The lights beneath the glass floor casting a stark of brightness among the shadows of the dark room, cameras were turned off, phones were confiscated, no guards were present and no fighters could leave until one left unconscious.

There were no music, no announcement, just your bare feet on the glass floor, your eyes was unreadable, eyes only half-lidded as if all of this was just a normal routine. Your shoulders were relaxed, no tension, no signs of nervous, your body carries the violence like it was just air, natural and invisible.

The opponent entered, he's big, brutal and snarling, the kind of monster Woo-yong usually saved for audience favorites.The kind of fighter who broke teeth and snapped ribs in the first two minutes, a man whose presence made lesser fighters twitch and stumble.

But the moment the bell rang, it was clear that none of that would matter.

The match was not a fight, It was a dismantling.

You moved like you had no heartbeat, not fast, not furious, just inevitable. A step forward and the opponent swung, a duck, hand catching the wrist mid air, a twist. The crack of it echoed through the silent room like a gunshot.

Then came to the elbow to the jaw, the knee to the side, the quite collapse of a man who made the others scream and still, no reaction from the one standing.

Your face was blank, no anger, no joy and not even curiosity. When the opponent tried to crawl away, you stepped on his spine, no hesitation, no words, just precision. Like you were finishing a job, like this wasn't worth remembering.

You didn't bow, there was no need, didn't even check. Just simply walked back toward the exit like nothing had happened, as if you didn't just ended someone career with less effort than breathing.

“What are you?”

And that's when Woo-yong said it, his voice low, almost reverent. He said it like a question, but the look in his eyes, was that fear? Or awe?