The underground arena buzzed with energy. The last match of the second round was about to begin. Spectators roared in anticipation, their eyes locked on the fighters standing in opposite corners of the ring.

On one side stood Reaper X—a man of eerie calmness, his piercing gaze cutting through the distance like a sharpened dagger. His movements were slow, deliberate, like a predator measuring its prey before the inevitable strike. He was a master of precise, deadly efficiency.

On the other side was Howler—an embodiment of chaos. His body twitched with raw, unchecked energy, his breath coming out in sharp, animalistic pants. He hunched forward, his fingers curled like claws, his eyes wide with a manic glint. He wasn’t here to fight; he was here to tear apart anything in his way.

The referee barely had time to step out before Howler lunged.

The Beast Unleashed

Howler was a whirlwind of motion, closing the distance within a second. His clawed hands lashed out in a furious frenzy, aiming straight for Reaper X’s throat. The audience barely had time to react before the first clash erupted.

Reaper X sidestepped, narrowly dodging the first strike. Howler grinned, his teeth bared like a wolf finding an opening. He twisted mid-motion, his knee shooting up toward Reaper’s ribs.

Reaper X blocked the blow with his forearm, but the force sent him skidding back. Howler didn’t let up—he pounced, his fists a relentless storm, each strike a savage attempt to break his opponent down. BAM! BAM! BAM!

Reaper X was calm. He deflected each attack with precise movements, waiting—studying.

And then he struck.

A sudden palm strike to Howler’s temple. The impact was sharp, sudden, making Howler stagger back. But instead of retreating, the crazed fighter howled, shaking his head before leaping forward again. He was completely unpredictable.

Precision vs. Madness

Reaper X ducked under a wild hook, countering with a knee to the gut. Howler coughed but latched onto Reaper’s shoulder with an iron grip. He twisted, dragging him forward before slamming his forehead straight into Reaper’s nose.

CRACK!

Blood sprayed from Reaper X’s nostrils. The crowd erupted in cheers. But the assassin barely flinched. He wiped his nose with the back of his hand, then exhaled slowly.

His eyes sharpened. Howler had landed a blow, but now he had revealed his fatal flaw—recklessness.

Howler snarled and attacked again, a rapid flurry of uncoordinated yet vicious strikes. Reaper X, however, had already adjusted.

He shifted his stance. Every move now had intent.

Howler lunged—Reaper X twisted, his foot hooking behind Howler’s leg, disrupting his balance.

Howler swung a wild elbow—Reaper X leaned back, barely dodging, and retaliated with a vicious strike to Howler’s exposed ribs.

Howler roared, his patience wearing thin. His attacks became desperate, more aggressive, his own energy working against him. His fists flew, but they were slower now. Sloppy. Predictable.

And Reaper X punished him for it.

The Finishing Blow

Reaper X dodged left, narrowly avoiding Howler’s clawed swipe. Before Howler could react, Reaper X’s knee drove into his stomach, knocking the air from his lungs.

Howler staggered, eyes widening in shock.

Reaper X stepped forward, grabbed his opponent’s arm, and in a single fluid motion, twisted his body—SLAM!

A perfect shoulder throw, sending Howler crashing onto the cold, unforgiving ground.

The arena fell silent.

Howler tried to rise, his body trembling, his breath ragged.

Reaper X stood over him. Cold. Unshaken.

One last move.

Reaper X spun and delivered a devastating roundhouse kick to Howler’s temple.

CRACK!

Howler’s body went limp before he even hit the ground.

The referee rushed in, checking for signs of consciousness.

“Winner: Reaper X!”

The crowd erupted into cheers, some roaring in triumph, others in disappointment as their bets were lost. Reaper X, as always, remained emotionless.

He wiped the blood off his cheek, exhaled slowly, and walked out of the ring.

The second round was over.

Now, the winners had only one thing left—to fight each other.

And Reaper X? He wasn’t done yet. Not by a long shot.