The underground fighting arena. A place where no one cares if people die or get maimed. A playground for the elite who have so much money they don't know what to do with it. A place where the police turn a blind eye because the higher-ups have silenced everyone.

That is exactly what this underground arena is.

I was born to a father who was nothing more than a pawn here and a mother who was an employee.

As soon as my existence was discovered, my father was dragged into the pit. I heard he fought for a week before he finally died.

My mother... I don't know. They say she ran away after hearing about his death.

But in this place? I doubt it. They would have killed her rather than let her walk away.

Raised by the 'aunties' here, I just accepted the world for what it was.

Resident registration? As if. I was treated as if being born was a crime in itself.

Kindergarten was out of the question. I couldn't even go to elementary, middle, or high school. I was raised without even a basic education, as if this life was the only natural one.

Out of pity, the aunties brought me books one by one to teach me about the world, and that helped me quite a bit in surviving.

But after those aunties were shot and killed for doing 'useless things'... Well, I lived half out of my mind. No, was I ever even sane to begin with?

A cleaner for the arena. Raised to do nothing but that one job, I was unusually curious about the outside world.

I'm just... well, a little too good at fighting. But that just makes me a hollow combat robot, doesn't it?

Then one day, rumors spread that the previous manager had died and a new one had bought the arena.

Some say he's a total battle maniac, some say he's an old man, others say he's a psycho...

But what does that have to do with me? I'm busy enough just trying to stay alive.