"Step."
The sound of approaching footsteps echoed just as they arrived at their destination. The next second, Kiara emerged from the study room, her dark blue hair swaying slightly with each step. Her obsessive gaze immediately locked onto Mikael, her dark blue eyes gleaming with unmistakable intensity. Smudges of paint stained her pants, a clear sign that she had been immersed in her art before their sudden arrival.
For a brief moment, she stood still, her expression unreadable. Then, without hesitation, she strode toward Mikael, her lips curling into a soft smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.
"You're back," she murmured, her voice gentle yet carrying an undertone of possessiveness.
Before either Amelia or Lyra could react, Kiara closed the distance between them, wrapping her arms around Mikael's waist and pressing herself against him. She rested her head against his chest, her body molding against his as if declaring her claim before their very eyes.
Her grip tightened slightly, her fingers clutching his shirt with subtle urgency. "You were gone for quite a while, Mikael…" she continued, her voice laced with something between longing and quiet reproach. "I missed you."
The words, though sweet on the surface, carried an unspoken message: 'He's mine.'
Amelia and Lyra exchanged glances, both noticing how Kiara subtly pulled Mikael closer, her presence unwavering and unyielding.
After a long moment, Kiara finally turned her gaze toward them, her expression once again unreadable. She tilted her head slightly, her eyes trailing over them with eerie calm before her lips parted in an almost playful tone.
"So…" she finally spoke, amusement dancing in her voice. "These are my sister wives?"
The way she emphasized the last words sent a slight shiver down Lyra's spine, while Amelia's green eyes narrowed ever so slightly.
Kiara, however, remained unfazed. Instead, she chuckled softly, her fingers still loosely gripping Mikael's shirt. "I suppose I should introduce myself properly, shouldn't I?" Her gaze flicked between them before her lips curved into a smile—one that was beautiful yet unsettling.
"Kiara Dreyfus. Mikael's first."
The weight of those words lingered in the air.
Her dark blue eyes gleamed as she finally loosened her hold on Mikael, though she remained close, as if daring them to challenge her position.
"I hope we'll get along," she added smoothly, her tone unreadable.
Mikael sighed internally. 'This will be… interesting.'
After the relatively tense initial greeting, the group of four moved into the living room and took their places on the couch. Kiara clung to Mikael, unwilling to leave his side, openly declaring her 'possessiveness.'
Mikael took the lead in the conversation, as Kiara didn't seem inclined to talk, content with simply hugging him. However, he wanted the girls to at least maintain a proper relationship, which is why he kept the conversation going, engaging all of them and encouraging them to talk to each other.
Lyra, true to her personality, remained quiet, which didn't surprise him. What gave him a headache, however, was the constant clash between Amelia's headstrong nature and Kiara's yandere tendencies.
Like now, for example—Kiara was hugging him, but Amelia had taken a seat to his right and was currently leaning against him, all under Kiara's piercing glare. She clearly didn't appreciate that Amelia was getting so close to HER Mikael.
Noticing Kiara's gaze, Amelia flashed a small, almost mocking smile before tightening her embrace around Mikael, pressing her D-cup breasts against his body. At the sight, Kiara gritted her teeth and responded by hugging him even tighter.
"Can you hug me, Mikael? I'm still a little sore~ from yesterday," Amelia said, her voice coquettish, laced with a teasing undertone.
Kiara didn't appreciate those words. Not at all. She understood exactly what Amelia was implying.
"Tsk—don't listen to this bitch. If she's sore, I'm not, so we can go spend some ALONE time together in OUR bedroom!" Her words were directed at 'Mikael,' but her sharp gaze remained locked on Amelia.
Their eyes met, and sparks flew between them. Mikael sighed, already feeling a headache forming. Rather than letting the tension escalate, he quickly changed the subject, not wanting them to antagonize each other any further.
When he spoke, both girls responded happily, but that didn't stop them from occasionally throwing subtle jabs at each other.
Seeing this, Mikael let out a relieved sigh. While they were still exchanging barbs, their interactions weren't outright hostile—it was more of a 'playful rivalry.' Both of them knew he loved them, and neither wanted to upset him by creating real conflict with another of his women.
The group continued their conversation for a while, and by the end of it, Amelia and Kiara had reached an 'unspoken' understanding. They weren't throwing jabs at each other anymore… or at least, not as frequently.
At that moment, Mikael spoke up. "Why don't we go to the Arena? Something is happening there in 15 minutes. Want to check it out?"
Amelia and Lyra were interested in seeing more of the Records and agreed. Kiara, on the other hand, was simply happy to be with Mikael and didn't care where they went as long as she was by his side.
With their decision made, the group of four left the apartment and reappeared in the Hub they had visited earlier. This time, the girls weren't as focused on observing their surroundings and instead made a beeline for the staircase acting as a teleporter.
During their short walk, they attracted some attention. A group consisting of one handsome man and three stunning women was bound to stand out, but no one did more than steal a quick glance. After all, attractive people weren't uncommon in the Records.
As soon as they climbed the staircase, they were teleported.
The instant they arrived, the deafening roar of a cheering crowd caught them off guard.
They found themselves in what appeared to be a massive medieval-style stone arena. The stands, though made entirely of stone, had a surprisingly refined design that made them look almost comfortable. The arena was moderately crowded, with spectators seated across the tiers, eagerly watching the fight taking place below.
The battleground was a vast stage constructed from an unfamiliar white stone that appeared incredibly durable. Two fighters were engaged in combat—one wielding a shortsword and a shield, while the other fought with a spear. Their movements were swift and precise, or at least, that was how it might have seemed to an untrained eye. However, Mikael could easily tell that both were inexperienced, their movements clumsy.
After briefly scanning their surroundings, the group of four moved to a nearby empty section of the stands and took their seats.
Kiara settled beside Mikael, draping herself over him as if staking a claim. Lyra took position on his other side, her gaze wandering on the fight with a certain disinterest. Amelia sat slightly apart, arms crossed, her sharp eyes scanning the stage below.
The current match ended before any of them could even get invested, the spearman delivering a decisive blow that sent his opponent sprawling onto the stone floor. The crowd erupted into cheers and boos, some clearly pleased with the outcome while others cursed under their breath, likely having lost a bet.
Just as the defeated fighter was being carried off the stage, a loud, authoritative voice boomed through the arena, amplified by an unseen mechanism.
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! THAT WAS JUST A WARM-UP, BUT NOW... THE MAIN EVENT IS UPON US!"
A murmur spread through the crowd, excitement palpable in the air.
"As you all know, this event was PROMOTED using the Records! And let me tell you, it's going to be one hell of a fight! A battle of POWER! A battle of DESPERATION! A battle where EVERYTHING is on the line!"
The audience roared in anticipation.
Mikael arched an eyebrow, intrigued. Earlier, he had used the Records to check if there was anything interesting to do with the girls and noticed that a special fight was taking place in the Arena. It had piqued his interest, but he hadn't bothered to look into the details. Now, witnessing the announcer's exaggerated theatrics, he realized that this fight was far more serious than he had anticipated.
"NOW THEN! LET ME INTRODUCE OUR WARRIORS! FIRST, A MAN WHO STANDS ALONE AGAINST A NIGHTMARE HE CANNOT ESCAPE! A WARRIOR FORCED INTO A DEADLY GAMBLE, FIGHTING NOT FOR GLORY, NOT FOR HONOR, BUT FOR THE ONLY PERSON HE CARES ABOUT! TONIGHT, HE WIELDS HIS BLADE IN DESPERATION... RAYNOR!"
A man stepped onto the stage. He was muscular but looked worn down, his face hardened by anxiety. His expression was grim, eyes burning with restrained fury. His hands clenched tightly around a longsword, and his armor, though sturdy, bore numerous signs of wear and tear.
The crowd reacted with a mix of cheers and jeers, already aware of the reason behind this fight. Some sympathized with his plight, while others mocked him.
"AND NOW! HIS OPPONENT! A MAN WHO TAKES WHAT HE WANTS! A MAN WHO BELIEVES THAT MIGHT MAKES RIGHT! A PROUD MEMBER OF THE NOTORIOUS SHADOW FANGS—A DARK GUILD THAT SPREADS TERROR ON EARTH, A DEN OF RAPISTS, MURDERERS, AND MONSTERS IN HUMAN FORM! A TRUE PREDATOR WHOSE HUNGER KNOWS NO LIMIT... VORIK THE DEVOURER!"
A tall, broad-shouldered man walked onto the stage, clad in dark, ornate armor. His expression was one of arrogant amusement, his eyes scanning the audience as if basking in their attention. In his hand, he held a massive greataxe, the weapon resting casually on his shoulder.
The crowd erupted into cheers, though there were just as many disgusted looks thrown his way. Some clearly supported him, reveling in the chaos he embodied, while others viewed him with pure loathing.
The announcer's voice echoed once more.
"AND NOW, LET'S TALK ABOUT WHAT'S AT STAKE!"
A sinister silence fell over the arena.
"THIS FIGHT BEGAN LONG BEFORE THEY CAME TO THIS PLACE! BACK ON EARTH, RAYNOR AND HIS WIFE WERE CAUGHT BY THE SHADOW FANGS, HELPLESS AGAINST THEIR POWER! HE HAD NO WAY TO FIGHT BACK, NO HOPE OF ESCAPE! BUT THEN—A CHANCE! A DEAL OFFERED BY VORIK HIMSELF! INSTEAD OF TAKING WHAT HE WANTED IMMEDIATELY, HE GAVE RAYNOR A CHOICE! WIN... AND LEAVE WITH HIS WIFE! LOSE… AND SHE BELONGS TO VORIK FOREVER!"
The reaction from the crowd was immediate—some gasped, others laughed, a few even jeered at Raynor's situation.
Mikael remained impassive, though he could feel Lyra tensing beside him. Amelia's face had darkened slightly, her fingers clenching on her lap. Kiara, on the other hand, looked utterly indifferent, as if the entire thing was nothing more than background noise.
Amelia exhaled sharply. "Disgusting," she muttered.
Lyra, unusually vocal, added, "How can they allow this?"
'Fuck, I really should have checked what was happening today and what this "arena" was before bringing the girls to "break the ice,"' he mentally cursed. But even as he inwardly grimaced, he didn't let it show, his expression remaining unreadable as he observed the scene unfolding before him.
He understood the Records' rules well enough. While inside the Records, they were protected by its laws, but outside? Everything was fair game. Raynor had accepted the bet, no matter how unfair the circumstances, and he was bound to honor it—otherwise, the Records would punish him…
The announcer let the tension hang for a few moments before roaring again.
"NOW THEN! YOU'VE HEARD THE STAKES! YOU KNOW THE PLAYERS! IT'S TIME TO PUT YOUR LP WHERE YOUR MOUTH IS! BETTING IS NOW OPEN! WILL YOU PLACE YOUR FAITH IN RAYNOR, THE MAN WHO BET EVERYTHING? OR WILL YOU BACK VORIK? THE CHOICE IS NOW YOUR!"
Instantly, the crowd burst into motion, people pulling out their interfaces to place their bets. Some debated furiously over the odds, others placed their bets without hesitation, their eyes gleaming with either excitement or greed.
Nobody in the group was interested in betting so they simply watched with a certain morbid curiosity. A few minutes passed as people finalized their bets. Then, the announcer's voice rang out one last time before the fight.
"LAST CHANCE TO PLACE YOUR BETS! ONCE THE FIGHT STARTS, THERE'S NO TURNING BACK!"
A final rush of activity took over the audience, before the arena fell into expectant silence.
The announcer's voice thundered through the air.
"LET THE FIGHT... BEGIN!"
A bell rang, and the battle commenced.
Author Note:
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