Pain was the first thing he felt. A dull pounding in his skull, a ringing in his ears, the metallic taste of blood in his mouth. Niran slowly opened his eyes. The sky above him was still dark, a heavy shroud of low-hanging clouds.
He pushed himself up, his body protesting with sharp aches. The ground beneath him was rough, covered in dust and damp grime. His clothes were stiff with dried sweat and blood. He ran his fingers over his temple, feeling the swollen lump where Jirapat had struck him.
Jirapat...
The name echoed in his mind like a curse. He was real. He had stood right in front of him, and he had taken Niran down with humiliating ease. But more than that, what haunted him was the fact that Jirapat had let him live.
Why?
He leaned against the alley wall and forced himself to stand.
"I need to get back to the dojo."
The streets were empty, silent. His body moved on autopilot, muscles heavy with exhaustion.
The dojo entrance looked just as he had left it, but something caught his attention immediately.
A small figure was curled up near the door, huddled against the cold. Kao.
The monkey lifted his head as soon as he heard Niran's footsteps, his eyes glinting in the dim light. He didn't make a sound, didn't move, he simply stared, as if he had been waiting all this time.
Niran crouched beside him, placing a hand on his head. He knew something was wrong.
There were no words. Kao climbed onto his arm and settled on his shoulder, gripping onto him as if afraid he might disappear again.
Niran stepped inside the dojo and shut the door behind him.
He needed sleep.
Sunlight filtered through the dirty dojo windows when Niran woke up. The pain in his body remained, but his thoughts were sharper. Kao was curled up beside him, his small chest rising and falling steadily.
The quiet was interrupted by the sharp chime of his communicator.
Suda.
He accepted the call, and her blunt voice filled the room.
"You're alive. Good. I have your winnings. Come pick them up."
Niran exhaled slowly. "I'll be there."
The meeting place was a small, smoky backroom far from the arena. When Niran stepped inside, Suda was already there, sitting on a plastic chair, legs crossed, an unlit cigarette between her fingers.
"You look like shit." She gestured to the cut on his temple and the stiffness in his movements.
Niran ignored the comment and stepped closer.
Suda tossed a small envelope his way. "Your cut."
He caught it and weighed it in his hand. It wasn't much, but enough to keep moving forward.
Suda studied him carefully. "When do you want your next fight?"
Niran was silent for a moment, then clenched the envelope in his fingers.
"I need to take care of something first."
She raised an eyebrow but didn't press for details.
"Alright. Let me know when you're ready."
Niran gave a short nod and left, stepping into the cold air outside.
As he walked back to the dojo, his mind was a storm of thoughts.
Jirapat's attack, his presence, his words. Their encounter wasn't a coincidence.
He clenched his fists, his nails biting into his palm. Jirapat had taken everything from him, their master, his pride, the life he once knew. And yet, when they met again, Niran had been powerless.
Was it just a difference in skill? Or was there something deeper that he lacked?
He thought back to the moment Jirapat struck him down. The way he moved, it was precise, effortless, as if he had already foreseen every possible reaction Niran could have had. It wasn't just power. It was mastery.
Niran exhaled sharply, forcing the bitterness down.
If he didn't close that gap, he wouldn't stand a chance the next time they met.
Niran wasn't strong enough.
Not yet.
When he stepped inside the dojo, Kao was waiting by the entrance, awake this time. Niran crouched in front of him, watching him quietly.
"I need to get stronger."
Kao tilted his head, watching him with sharp eyes.
Niran stood and walked toward the training area.
"Sakchai. Teach me a technique."
From the shadows, the retired champion's voice carried a calm weight.
"Are you ready for that?"
Niran nodded. "I don't have a choice."
Before Sakchai could answer, something else caught Niran's attention.
Kao had moved toward the door, pushing a small piece of paper toward him.
Niran picked it up, turning it between his fingers. A handwritten address.
His expression darkened.
"Before training, I need to see who's waiting for me."
Fate had placed another puzzle in his path. And he had no intention of ignoring it.