In the dark of night, a silhouette slowly slid out of his bunk. Silently the figure moved on to another bed, then poked the man sleeping there. The man tossed around for a bit, then woke up.

  “Are we really doing this? We’ll get thrown into the arena,” the second figure asked groggily.

  “Not now. We’ve gone through this. With a bounty of 1 million credits, we’ll have enough to get us both out of here,” the first figure whispered back.

  “Is it really true though? A bounty that high sounds like it's out of a dream!”

  “Shhh, I got the intel straight from Argus’s men myself. It’s good.”

  The two men, both wielding a makeshift knife, made their way over to a sleeping figure. They looked at each other, nodded, decisively raised their shivs, then stabbed down.

  “…”

  Ronin may have gone to bed, he may have looked to any normal discerning gaze, to be a perfectly normal 18-year-old, sleeping soundly without a care in the world.

  He was not.

  Having made up his mind on being careful of Marvin, he'd stayed awake, waiting for him to make a move. He’d naturally heard the silent whispers of his fellow cellmates as they approached, aiming to take his life. He thought back on everything that had happened today, and it became clear:

  So, it's come to this… News of my bounty has reached so far out, even the prisons on Exodon now know of it. I’d hoped it wasn't true, but it seems Marvin’s been plotting against me from the very beginning.

  As the two shivs were raised, then began descending, he was ready. He erupted from within the bedsheets, then grasped both of his attackers' wrists, immobilizing the knives. Swiftly, and with great strength, he squeezed tight, twisting his hands until a sharp SNAP! signaled the breaking of bones.

  Before his assailants, now with wrists bent and misshapen, could begin to scream, he silenced them, striking both their necks with carefully calculated strength. Not an easy feat whilst handcuffed, but if they screamed, the guards would be alerted. For what Ronin had in mind, he needed time.

  Snapping the neck of one of his attackers, he turned to Marvin, his so-called mentor in this hellscape:

  “Now now Marvin. I really hoped you’d be a genuine man. That fake persona of yours was actually quite pleasant. I liked being around that version of you. After the "incident" with the mask though…” Ronin heaved a sigh, “perhaps you had a hand in the attack on me when I moved through the life gate as well.”

  He waited for Marvin to catch his breath, then gently placed a hand on his shoulder. “Well, it doesn’t matter now anyways… Now, tell me more about this man named Argus. I’ve heard quite a lot about this man lately. You said something about a bounty, right? 1 million credits?”

  Marvin looked at Ronin with fearful eyes. It seemed he’d been under a grave misconception all along. This kid was not some innocent youngster. That level of strength, the ruthlessness by which he broke the neck of his friend Pracksus…

  “M-Monster…” He managed to croak out.

  Just what had he gotten himself involved with?!

  At the center of the Ironglades Space Force Academy, in a sacred room designed to look like the bridge of a star destroyer, sat 5 figures. Covered in beautiful paintings of historical ships, the room gave off a feeling of age and honor. Numerous shelves lined the walls. On them, were several carefully crafted, functioning models of spaceships. From fighters, shuttles and corvettes to battlecruisers and motherships, the only thing these ships had in common, was that they were all designed by citizens of Concordia.

  In the middle of the room, spaced evenly around a circular table, the cohort of statesmen were engaged in a vibrant discussion:

  “Concerning the current annual budget, we should prioritize all students. This habit of spending more and more funds on a few selected candidates may increase our reputation when one of them succeeds, but it has severely weakened the support staff which, if I may add, Concordia is entirely dependent upon.” Continued Bladia Ungtari, Tar's Minister of Education.

  Dressed in well-worn white and black official clothing, the gray-haired woman had an air of regality to her, as if she filled her high station more than it filled her.

  “If only a single of our candidates makes it to a higher star system, that single candidate can do more for Concordia's strategic interests than thousands of support staff — not to mention the generous return we’ll receive on our investments,” Petrov Bjerksson, Head of ISFA ship design, answered back.

  Perking up at the mention of more investments, Antova Li, head of the pilot program, broke in: “And on that note, we should increase our funding into Cadet Haraken's training immediately! He's the best pilot we've had in 70 years and with the current state of our flight simulation equipment, we're practically wasting away his talent!”

  “Before we go any further, we'll have to address the report sent to us on this new potential genius,” Principal Armstrong interrupted. “Raverus Ravent, seeing as you’re the one who wrote the report. Why don’t you bring us up to speed?”

  Raverus was not supposed to be here of course, but recently, an anonymous tip had been sent to nearly every member of staff working in the ISFA. With the revelation of some very unsavory details concerning the planetary guard, and the subject of his own report, he’d been forced to attend.

  Sighing, he accessed his implant, and with a swipe, he sent the report up to project over the center of the table before them. A few seconds passed while the board members studied the hologram on the table as it slowly spun around, depicting Ronin as well as his associated information.

  “The student, Mr. Maximus is a first year and the majority of my report concerns the very first practical exercise he did. During a KGC-fusion reactor repair session, his team did not know that you're supposed to run a diagnostic check first before disassembling the engine,” Raverus said, pausing as the others started chuckling.

  “Yes, I know. Typical first year mistake. What makes this different, is what happened afterwards.” Raising a finger into the air for emphasis, Raverus continued: "They repaired it. Perfectly at that.”

  “How!?” Exclaimed Petrov, confusion apparent on his face.

  Raverus Ravent gestured towards the hologram: “Mr. Maximus here, after reading the blueprint, compared it to every single parameter obtained from the multiscanner. Let me remind you, this specific engine has a total of 11501 different components.”

  “How much of the multiscanner data can you actually compare to the blueprint though?” Petrov asked, seeking clarification.

  Raverus raised his brows, then slowly spoke: “13.”

  “Over 10 thousand components, 13 variables for each...” Petrov began. “It would be like finding a needle in a scrapyard, no, it would be even harder than that! But there are all kinds of tools for this, surely—”

  “I’ve already accounted for that,” Raverus interrupted. “He didn’t use any tools. If you’d bothered to read the report you’d know.”

  A hint of a shock spread through the room before it was quickly suppressed.

  Principal Armstrong had been waiting for this. “Too bad he's been kidnapped,” he broke in.

  “What? How could this happen!?” Minister Bladia said.

  “This, in part, is why Mr. Ravent here, was called in,” replied Armstrong. “We had to be sure this kid is actually a genius, like the report states. You see, not long ago, we received an anonymous tip concerning the Planetary Guard. The tip details how they deliberately framed this potential genius after receiving bribes from a known crime lord. Not long ago, according to the report, the Guard saw fit to ship this student of ours away. All the way over to Prison Planet Exodon.” The principal cleared his throat, then gestured to the perfectionist in the room: “Mr. Ravent, if you please.”

  “Thank you... I know of the man who allegedly signed off on this. This Wing Commander Julius. Working in landbound transport for many years has led to quite a few interactions between us. I can tell you that, if this tip is credible, Julius is one of the first names I would suspect. There's been rumors about how dirty this man is since the very first day I met him.”

  Minister Bladia Ungtari's face began to change as realization dawned on her. “And you’ve brought this up to me because I can tell the mayor…”

  The principal gave her a steady gaze. “Every genius is a strategic asset to Tar, Minister, I’m only bringing this up because I’m concerned about our national interests. We have here, a candidate which could significantly strengthen the kingdom—”

  “Enough.” She cut him off. “I will call him.”

  "Thank you,” Principal Armstrong said, tilting his head in appreciation.

  The ringing alarm, once again, boomed through the complex, announcing the beginning of a new day.

  Ronin, however, was not awoken by the alarm this time, in fact, he hadn’t slept at all since the incident. After some enhanced interrogation of Marvin, the reason for his apartment blowing up and his imprisonment... had finally been revealed.

  The 5 men he’d killed in district 101 apparently had a boss. Argus was the face of their organization, but Marvin had speculated that there was someone else in charge. Called a myth and a legend due to his elusiveness, the man targeting Ronin was practically a ghost. All Marvin knew of him was a name and a title.

  “Specter, The ghost butcher.”

  If I ever get out... Heck, I won't even bother with placing a bounty on him. I'll go find him myself, Ronin grumbled.

  “Those are some big black bags under your eyes, fish!” Bulkster, still tired, spoke over the alarm. The big man, thick as he was, had still not realized what had happened tonight, seemingly sleeping through the entire thing.

  But that could not be said about the others. The man with the CLM tattoo looked at Ronin nervously as they walked onto the gangway. “You're not who I thought you were… There’s no bad blood in between us, right?” He asked, pointing towards the cell.

  As the cuffs began lifting him above the railing, Ronin made his stance clear. In as loud a voice as he could manage, he spoke for the entire complex to hear:

  “Marvin and his friend made their move against me! If you mean well, I shall treat you well! If you mean ill, I will not hesitate! Just as with Marvin, anyone who moves against me, I will strike down — no exceptions!”

  Ronin knew he couldn’t hide what had happened in that cell, and there would be consequences. Someone had to take the blame.

  Better that I take the blame, than an innocent, he thought. I did it, time to own up.

  At this point, even Bulkster caught on. “Holy void of beginning fish— no, Ronin! You’re a savage! You should have told me.” Bulkster wasn’t fearful though, it looked more like he was... happy?

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  Ignoring the loud giant, Ronin was relieved to find the nanites in his body acting like normal. It had been one of his fears the moment he tore off the cuffs and began training yesterday. Fortunately, neither the act of tearing them off, then putting them on again, nor the death of his two cellmates had triggered the nanite ejection.

  But that didn’t mean there wouldn't be consequences…

  As he began lowering towards the ground, the magnetic fields of the complex shifted, aiming him directly into the arena.

  It is as I thought, since the arena and death by ejection are pretty much the only two direct forms of punishment here, it had to be one of the two.

  He knew this was a possibility, but this could also be a good thing. He had a big bounty, and inmates would be aiming for him left and right. If he was ruthless enough in the arena, his brutality should scare off anyone hoping for an easy payday.

  Besides… his battle lust was acting up again and it needed an outlet...

  “…”

  As he landed in the arena, several people began running towards it. They didn't even bother with the life gate.

  That's a lot more people than yesterday, Ronin thought.

  There had to be at least 50 inmates on their way here — all of them looking at him.

  “I told you that butt was mine. Go back if you don’t want to die!” One of the men shouted.

  “I’m here for the bounty you pervert!” Another voice rang back.

  Shouting and bickering, the inmates entered the blood-stained cage, then walked up to Ronin.

  “We all know the show won’t start before the enclosure is lifted. That's 10 hours from now,” Ronin scoffed at them. “There is no use in acting tough, save that for the battle. I will warn you guys though… The moment you guys entered this place, your fates were already sealed.”

  “You, what!? Arrogant!”

  A flurry of insults and displays of bravado poured out from the men surrounding him, but Ronin tuned it out. There was plenty of time before the battle would start. He should spend that time wisely. And as the metal cage began enclosing the arena, protecting it from the coming acidic air, Ronin accessed his mind palace.

  I should really get a handle on the Potentia Panorama, I don't even know if what I'm doing is reasonable right now. From strength, my ability to fight, to self-control, the alien artifact affects everything. If I am to make it, I'm going to need more control...

  Ronin walked along the corridors of his mental spaceship, passing from gate to gate. He began counting, organizing the gates into various sizes. None of them looked the same, but some of them were gigantic compared to the others. In this vast technique, he'd only opened one of these gates — a small, insignificant one at that. Those bigger gates probably contained a lot more knowledge.

  He organized the useful information he had into a table:

  He was still not sure how much the Near-Death-Sight technique slowed down time, but based on his experiences, it should at least be to about half of how time normally moved.

  As for his enhanced instincts? They just seemed to make him better somehow. He had better balance, reacted inhumanly well to threats, but beyond that? No, these instincts seemed to work on autopilot. He’d have to experiment more in the future to figure them out properly.

  Next, Ronin tried to sense what was behind the gates. With how he'd reacted after opening the first gate, he would probably need to wait in-between each and every one he opened. If he could figure out whether or not the information these gates held was actually useful, it should save him a lot of time.

  Ronin leaned up against them, then gently stroked his fingers along their fractal patterns. Going from one gate to another, he did get something, but it was only from the smaller of the gates. It also wasn’t exactly accurate. Vague impressions of concepts nibbed at his mind, but none of the concepts felt like anything related to combat.

  Nevertheless, two of the gates still stood out.

  The smaller of the two gates, felt like it contained something related to the mind, but it was very esoteric and foreign. The larger one, also relating to the mind, had a different quality, giving off an impression of mental strength, resilience and flexibility.

  The question was, which should he choose?

  Forget it, Ronin sighed.

  If the gates didn't contain combat techniques, he could do this later. Right now, he needed to prepare for the approaching battle. Focusing inwards, Ronin entered a semi-conscious state as he began to sharpen his will.

  “...”

  Time passed as Ronin sat there, aware of his surroundings, but actively ignoring them. He'd entered a sort of flow state where he visualized his opponents, then made moves against them. In other words — shadowboxing. His experiences fighting the rooftop bandits fit this situation the best, so, in his mind's eye, he recreated fights involving iron rods, knives and batons. However, just as he was about to conjure up another opponent to fight, there was a loud sound of shrieking metal.

  SCREECH!

  Cut out of his flow state, Ronin opened his eyes.

  The metal cover protecting the arena, was moving.

  So, it's finally begun, he thought.

  Rising up, he winced in pain. Apparently, his laser-burned leg was still acting up. It didn't matter. He cracked his neck, then let out a deep breath. He was ready enough.

  The same could not be said about his competition though. As Ronin gazed over the arena, he spotted several inmates looking frightened and weary. Some shared a look of despair, likely having lost all hope.

  He shook his head.

  Only one person here would leave this place, but they’d all still rushed in. And for a bounty at that? What were the odds they’d even survive? If even he, with his superhuman body felt a little nervous... how bad would it be for a normal person?

  As the surrounding metal cover fully retracted, the speakers activated:

  [We’ve got ourselves a very special battle today fellow heroes! A grand total of 51 men have chosen life through combat, but only one can claim the right! Among these 51, there is even a traitor who chose to take the lives of two fellow cellmates in the black of night! In order to rectify this, Inmate 5348 will be banned from using weapons! In addition, as a bonus price, the one who removes this traitor first will be given free food for a month!]

  As weapons began descending, Ronin's complexion turned rueful. No weapon huh? They really don’t want to make this easy on me.

  The combatants armed themselves then grouped up into teams. And whereas the more lively of the inmates formed a large group of about 20 people, the others formed more scattered groupings, ranging from 4 to 5 men. Throughout the entire thing, Ronin was barely even spared a glance.

  They must fear getting targeted by others if they kill me... He reasoned. I guess when everyone is poor, nobody wants to be the rich man. Still, should I stay in the shadows, just because I can? No. Every single person in this prison is currently watching this. There will be no better time for me to show them just how costly a bounty I am.

  The familiar, dark, bass-filled voice of the speakers, sounded out across the complex:

  [Combatants prepare…]

  The prison turned silent, and the anticipation built.

  [Ready, steady… Combatants Fight!]

  Pandemonium was unleashed, and Ronin ran straight into it.

  Sliding feet first into the largest group, he narrowly avoided a sword strike as it passed above his head. While still sliding, he rolled out of the way of yet another sword, this one aiming to stab him from above.

  Quickly bolting to his feet, Ronin saw his attacker: Short, sharp-nosed and with deep-set eyes, the man looked devious and greedy.

  Ronin positioned his feet, the right foot in front of the left, and as the man swung the sword again, Ronin leaned right, letting the attack pass him by.

  It almost felt like the sword was moving in slow motion.

  No, it’s not the sword, it’s me, Ronin thought. The near-death-sight must have activated.

  Carefully maintaining his balance, while still leaning, Ronin dashed in. He punched the man in the solar plexus, and he balked over, heaving for breath. It was over, a paralyzed diaphragm left no room for the man to fight back.

  A thought then occurred to Ronin:

  They refused me the use of a weapon, but then what about another person? They said nothing about that!

  Grabbing the heaving man, Ronin lifted him up, then positioned him as a shield.

  “...”

  Meanwhile, along the gangways of the prison, several of the watching inmates became confused. Exodon had a higher gravity than Concordia, so people normally moved around slow. The fact that a spindly kid, just over 1.7 meters could move this fast didn't make sense. When that same spindly kid, however, lifted another inmate, then proceeded to use the man as a shield, that confusion changed to shock.

  Ignorant of the watching crowd, Ronin moved his new shield right, blocking two batons from striking his head.

  “Hey! Let me down you bastard!” The sharp-nosed man squirmed. “Ugh! Stop it you two! We’re on the same team!”

  Unexpectedly, Ronin's new shield had begun talking.

  Spotting an opening, he threw the sharp-nosed man at his attackers, knocking the two men over. With haste, Ronin ran up to them, then knocked the two men out. If he waited too long, the surrounding inmates could overwhelm him. It had almost happened once already.

  He picked up the sharp-nosed man again, but as he was about to leave—

  “You’re dead you hear!?” The man screamed. “I know who you are Ronin! I know who you care about!”

  So, it's like that huh, Ronin thought, switching his grip. I guess I can do a lot more with this guy than just use him for defense.

  Now dragging the man by the ankle, he jogged up to another pair of inmates, then planted his feet. He strained his muscles, then swung the talker in a wide arc above him.

  BOOM!

  The sharp-nosed man struck one of the combatants so hard, the man's neck broke!

  Following up, Ronin circled, spinning the man-club in a counterclockwise direction as he struck the other combatant in the chest. A loud CRACK sounded out, signaling the breaking of bones and the man flew across the arena.

  [Fatality!] The speakers resounded, causing the crowd to erupt in fervor.

  Ronin's cellmates, their jaws down to the railing at this point, just stood there in silence, gaping. Even Bulkster was tongue tied.

  As Ronin continued swinging the man-club around, even the crowd began displaying mixed signals. Only half of them were cheering now, the rest just stayed silent. What was happening down there was just too abnormal…

  [Fatality!] The speakers rang out again.

  Ronin charged from battle to battle, ending fights as quickly as they started. The disruption was so large that, at some point, the inmates in the arena stopped fighting each other.

  Ronin had revealed himself to be too much of a threat. He was faster, swung harder, had more reach and didn’t get exhausted. An unspoken agreement seemed to form amongst the other inmates. This man… this variable, couldn't be allowed to remain on the field anymore.

  They had to work together.

  “...”

  More and more men began surrounding him, and Ronin picked up speed. His injuries from a few days ago still slowed him down, but if he got encircled now, he'd end up dead. No matter how skilled he was, he still had blind spots.

  The man-club he’d been using, had now turned into a big loaf of blood and meat. But with Ronin being kind of busy at the moment, there wasn’t much time to switch weapons.

  Encircled again, Ronin quickly advanced, mindful of keeping his balance as he swung the meat-club in front of him.

  Argh!

  A sword strike reached him, digging deep into his waist. Momentarily distracted, Ronin suffered a hard blow to the shoulder.

  He needed distance. Reaffirming his grip onto his meat club’s ankle, he swung with all he had. Spinning around, he completed a full circle, knocking down two combatants before finishing with an overhead strike, pulverizing the head of the bastard who’d struck him with a sword.

  The crowd was silent now.

  This was not how arena fights were supposed to go. In the arena, anyone could die. It was a chaotic field of temporary alliances, betrayals and if you were deemed as one of the weaponless, you died. Never had an inmate been refused a weapon and lived. Never had an inmate fought not one, but everyone. And that was before even getting into the grotesque way it was being done.

  Ronin kept accumulating injuries, but the combatants kept dropping. He may have slowed down a little, but the other combatants seemed to have slowed down even more.

  [Fatality!] The speakers rang again, but no one cheered.

  Having swung around the man for what must have been the 100th time, the man-club broke. Ronin, now only left holding onto a leg, picked up a new inmate by the ankle, then set out to bring the remaining men down.

  Out of the 51 inmates at the start of the battle, only 5 remained. They weren't charging him anymore. They were running away. And as Ronin was about to corner another man, blackish red mist erupted from the man's back, and he screamed in agony.

  Ronin looked around. Black-red mist began erupting from the other 3 combatants as well.

  Nanite ejection. Guess the prison guards aren’t very fond of people fleeing, he sighed, exhausted, and in more ways than one.

  [Winner… Inmate 5348!]