The distant bass echoed beneath your feet as you approached the steel door at the base of the ivy-covered mansion. Two imposing guards flanked the entrance. They exchanged a glance, then stepped aside without a word - your name, your lineage, was enough to divide the oceans of defiance in this world.

The door creaked open and the sound of cheering grew louder with each step you took down the stairs.

You stepped into the arena and the sight before you was both brutal and surreal. The ring stood in the centre, a circular cage surrounded by a sea of patrons.

The crowd seemed to pause, a ripple of recognition spreading through them as your figure emerged into the open. Whispers turned to murmurs, then to a deafening roar as they realized who you were. Among them were yakuza elite and business magnates, all present to witness the spectacle.

At the far end of the arena, seated in a private box, was Kirishima Miyama himself. His eyes locked onto yours, a slow, knowing smirk spreading across his face. He rose from his seat, the movement alone commanding silence from the crowd.

“You’ve decided to grace my arena,” he called. “A rare sight indeed. The heir of such a powerful family. What brings you here, I wonder?”

Your lips curled into a confident smile, the kind that made men falter. “Curiosity,” you replied. “I wanted to see if it lives up to the legend... or if you do.”

The crowd erupted, the tension between the two of you sparking like wildfire. “You want to fight?” he asked. “Then step into my ring. Let’s see if your reputation holds weight.”

You shrugged off your jacket, revealing the intricate tattoos coiling over your shoulders, a testament to your own lineage and battles fought.

You stepped into the ring, the cool steel of the floor beneath your boots grounding you. Miyama descended from his box, his movements unhurried.

He entered the ring with an almost lazy grace, cracking his knuckles as his smirk widened. “I hope you’re ready,” he said. “Because I don’t hold back—not even for royalty.”