Arthur walked away as if nothing had happened.

  His steps were calm. Unhurried.

  Anyone watching would have thought the fight never existed.

  He assumed no one had noticed.

  That no one had seen what he’d done.

  He was wrong.

  Inside a nearby parked car, a woman had witnessed everything. She held her phone steady, recording the entire scene—the punches, the way Arthur moved, the moment the bullies went down.

  Arthur never noticed her.

  By the time he reached home, the sun was already low.

  His sister was waiting.

  “Did you hang out with your friends today?” she asked, smiling. “Is that why you’re late?”

  Arthur hesitated for half a second.

  “Yeah,” he said quietly. “You could say that.”

  Her eyes widened slightly.

  “Oh! It’s the first time you’ve ever hung out with friends,” she said, clearly surprised. “Next time, you should introduce them to me, okay?”

  Arthur forced a small smile.

  “Okay,” he replied.

  Yeah… my sister doesn’t know it yet that I don’t have any friends, Arthur thought.

  The next day, Arthur walked to school like he always did.

  The same road.

  The same world—moving without him.

  Then it happened.

  A black car suddenly pulled up in front of him, stopping so abruptly it blocked his path. Before Arthur could react, someone grabbed him from behind.

  A sharp sting shot through his arm.

  An injection.

  His vision blurred. His legs gave out. The ground rushed up to meet him as everything faded to black.

  When he woke up, there was nothing.

  Just darkness.

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  No sound. No sense of time.

  Then—footsteps echoed.

  Someone entered the room. A woman.

  She stepped closer and removed the blindfold from his eyes. Bright light stabbed into his vision, forcing him to blink.

  Without saying a word, she turned a screen toward him.

  A video began to play.

  It was him.

  Arthur watched in silence as the footage showed him beating the bullies.

  Only then did the woman speak. Her voice was calm. Almost bored.

  She showed him the screen.

  “One message. That’s all it takes for the police to see this.”

  Arthur frowned.

  “Why?” he asked. “I didn’t have any money. Why did you kidnap me?”

  The woman tilted her head slightly.

  “Okay,” she said calmly. “Let’s start with a proper introduction. I’m Rey.”

  Arthur scoffed.

  “You don’t look like someone who bothers with introductions,” he muttered. “Are you even going to tell me why you dragged me here? Or are you just wasting my time?”

  Rey smiled faintly.

  “Oh, don’t be so cold,” she said. “Let’s be friends first. Now—what’s your name?”

  Arthur hesitated.

  “…Arthur Morgan.”

  Rey nodded, as if that answer alone told her enough.

  Arthur clicked his tongue.

  “Tch. Whatever,” he said. “Just let me out already.”

  Rey stepped behind Arthur and untied his restraints.

  Before he could even move, a guard stepped forward and pressed a gun against his head.

  “Walk,” the guard said.

  “Easy… easy,” Arthur replied. “Let’s go.”

  Rey walked beside him.

  “Do you even know where we’re going?” she asked.

  “Nope,” Arthur said. “How would I know?”

  They entered an elevator.

  The doors slid shut, and the elevator began descending—lower and lower—into the underground levels of the building.

  Arthur glanced at Rey.

  “Come on. At least tell me where you’re taking me,” he said. “And don’t try to scare me with your toy guns.”

  The guard raised his weapon.

  A gunshot exploded through the elevator.

  The ceiling light shattered, glass bursting outward as sparks rained down around them.

  Rey smiled faintly.

  “See?” she said. “That’s what a toy gun can do.”

  Arthur let out a slow breath.

  “Okay,” he muttered.

  “Why am I here?” he asked.

  Rey looked at him.

  “Because you’re the chosen one.”

  Arthur frowned.

  “Chosen for what?”

  Rey smiled faintly.

  “Isn’t it obvious? It’s to fight.”

  Arthur blinked.

  “Wait—you do realize that’s illegal? And I’m not even good at that.”

  Rey smiled faintly.

  “Nah. You should just train.”

  Arthur frowned.

  “Come on. I can’t do that. I don’t even have enemies.”

  Rey didn’t reply to that one.

  She kept talking as they walked, leading him through a narrow corridor. A heavy door slid open, revealing a wide chamber beyond.

  Arthur slowed.

  It was a weapon room.

  Daggers, guns, bombs, knives—rows upon rows of weapons lined the walls with unsettling precision. Everything was clean. Organized. Deadly.

  Rey glanced back at him.

  “This is a weapon shop,” she said calmly. “We sell swords, daggers, and knives. Not guns.”

  Arthur stared at the walls again.

  “Then why the hell do you have guns?”

  “People don’t buy them for war,” Rey continued. “Mostly for decoration.”

  She paused.

  “So we give them low quality anyway.”

  “But every weapon you see here is the real deal,” Rey said.

  “Full, top-grade quality.”

  Arthur didn’t respond.

  Rey continued, her tone calm, almost casual.

  “We’re going to fight in a war,” she said. “A war between strong people. In Antarctica.”

  She paused.

  “And you won’t be fighting for free. We’ll pay you.”

  Arthur didn’t hesitate.

  “Rejected,” he said flatly. “I’m not that poor.”

  He turned around and started walking toward the exit.

  “I won’t breathe a word of this to anyone.”

  As he reached the door, Rey called out behind him.

  “We slipped a card into your pocket,” she said. “If you ever feel like fighting, come back.”

  She smiled faintly.

  “The shop’s name is X?Cuts. Okay?”

  Arthur stopped for a moment.

  “…Yeah,” he said without turning around.

  “Only if I need to.”

  He stepped outside.

  To be continued.