Another match ended, another criminal...no...a person, killed by these small hands. Make that ten since I fight an average of 10 matches per day. At the very least. Meaning there are times when I had to fight more than 10 matches. When I first started, I could only manage one or two fights, and I pretty much ended up a sandbag before I retaliated better using the combat knowledge and experience I gained from the hellish training from Rapscallion, as well as the time I had in the wilderness.

But fighting against animals and humans differs greatly. After all, humans, much more so criminals, have no qualms about fighting dirty. They can trick you, make feints, set up traps, lures you for a planned attack, counterattack, defense, dodges and other bits. Very rare to find opponents that fight using pure technique, strength and skills (except for Rapscallion so far). Humans are crueler than animals, since they are sly and cunning beings with all the abuse and torture they relish in. Such is the twisted nature of humans.

As I limply walk down the dark street, I stared at my own small and chubby hands, conflicted. Even after washing and scrubbing my hands over and over again, in my minds' eyes, I could still see it. The blood in my hands. I continued to stare down at my open palms as I dragged my feet through the dark alleys to the place that I have been staying over the couple of months in the underworld. I have secured a small living space in an attic of an antique shop near the library. Naturally, all the items, artifacts and ancient relics in the shops were stolen.

My body ache with pain from the hits and kicks that landed on me in the matches. I only wished to arrive at the shop as soon as possible away from everything around me. Don't get me wrong. These streets and alleys aren't empty. In fact, it is bustling with activities. Ones that are as expected of an underground society. Human trafficking, illegal weapon dealings, drugs, and all that kinky stuff.

Dangerous individuals lurks in every shadows, turns and corners of streets and buildings. I may or may not have even spotted and recognized a few of the top rank criminals such as Jack the Ripper, Billy the Kid, Charles Manson, the psychopaths, and others, you name it. The place is crowded and noisy as much as it would a market place.

But instead of honest exchange of promotions and goods, the interactions with the people underground are full of deceit. Haggles, deals and negotiations can take a wrong turn to full blown violence in a matter of seconds. And they don't have the police here to stop them. A place filled with cruelty and unjust.

Two months living in this sort of society, I can't help but grew used to them. I still detest the deeds, however. I don't plan on dying so I have to adapt to my surroundings. In the first month, Rapscallion had brought me to explore the underground world, or city, whatever you want to call it. I was taught the ins and outs of the place and the secret codes involved.

Back when I hit the 800th rankings, Rapscallion finally brought me to see the infamous prime minister of the underworld. It was at that time when I found out that he's a plump man, ravishing his fingers in golden rings and adorn golden necklaces around his neck. Seeing me close in person for the second time, the man, called Jasper which I am sure not his real name as much as Emeth is to me, gave me that look which creeps me to the bones.

I could never forget the bone chilling aura I felt from the man, and I felt like I had to not let myself fall into his hands, no matter the cost. It was eerie and disgusting. He was looking at me like I am some kind of meal. Another time he looked at me like I am some kind of strange creature. All the while smiling. After that, I tried my best to avoid the man. He is strange to say the least, wearing dark sunglasses even in the dark, have shiny bald head, in an unfitting white t-shirt with black suits. If I had to describe him better, the man was the embodiment of arrogance and guile.

As I arrived at the attic, I plopped myself down on the bed. Exhausted in both mind and body, I drifted into sleep hoping that everything is just a really bad nightmare, and that I would wake up in my bed at home, to the callings of my mother and father, beckoning me for breakfast.

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But, fate is unkind to me, as I find myself waking up to this horrid reality time and time again.