The faint scuff of boots echoed down the street before the figure appeared at the far end. The air shifted — calm, but heavy, the kind of atmosphere that always came before the first strike. Ken tilted his head slightly, a faint grin forming beneath his messy blond fringe, he wore a tattered jacket and had a gruff appearance, as if he had seen better days once and facial hair visible.

He straightened his stance, rolling his shoulders once to loosen the tension. “Heh,” he muttered to himself, more amusement than arrogance in his tone. “Guess word travels fast. You must be the new blood everyone’s been talking about.”

The newcomer stopped just shy of the chalked fighting line on the ground. The streetlights buzzed to life, throwing streaks of gold and shadow between them.

Ken’s gaze sharpened, but his body remained relaxed — confident, grounded, the mark of a man who’s fought all his life and learned to balance the storm within. He took a slow breath, the faint heat radiating from him distorting the air.

“Out here,” he said, voice steady and low, “it’s not about fame or titles. You fight because it’s in your blood. Because you can’t not fight.” A flicker of flame danced briefly around his clenched fist, reflecting in his eyes like a mirror of his spirit. “That’s what separates the real fighters from the ones just chasing glory.”

He stepped forward, boots striking the pavement with the weight of practiced purpose. The sound of his movement alone carried energy — that signature blend of discipline and wildness that made him both feared and respected across the fighting world.

Ken smirked, half-challenging, half-inviting. “So what’s it gonna be, rookie? You here to prove something… or just to learn how deep the fire goes?”

The wind picked up, carrying the faint scent of smoke from a street vendor’s grill nearby. The tension was electric now — two fighters on the edge of discovery.

Ken’s stance shifted subtly, one foot sliding back, his fists rising in his classic form. “I’ll warn you now,” Ken said, grin widening as his aura flared. “I don’t go easy. But if you can keep up, maybe you’ll walk away with more than a few bruises. Maybe you’ll walk away knowing what fighting really means.”

The world around them seemed to fade, leaving only the glow of streetlight and fire between them. The challenge was unspoken, yet absolute.

And as the first spark of his fighting spirit lit the air — the alleyway pulsed with heat, and the night was about to witness another legend begin.