The Path Of A True King.

Kai and Elijah sat in the dimly lit train, the rhythmic clatter of the tracks filling the silence between them.

The air inside was thick with the scent of old metal and distant perfume from other passengers.

Streetlights flickered past the windows, casting brief flashes of orange glow across their faces.

Despite sitting next to each other, both were lost in their own thoughts, their minds occupied by the weight of the night ahead.

Elijah stared out of the window, his reflection barely visible against the darkened glass.

His mind was restless, consumed with the frustration of his slow cultivation progress.

Even after using his stat points, he remained at the Beginner Stage, an obstacle that mocked him at every turn.

He had studied the 'Farming Breathing Technique' intensely, uncovering a crucial truth—he needed to deplete his life force to the point where he only had a single year left to live.

Only then could he form his Ki Core, a vital organ that would generate and replenish his life force on its own.

He could feel himself nearing that threshold, but something was holding him back.

His stats had grown beyond 15, yet breaking through seemed impossible.

The Beginner Stage, also known as the Tempering Stage, existed solely to fortify the body, preparing it to withstand the immense strain of housing a Ki Core.

Without sufficient strength, the process could be fatal.

Worse still, the quality of the technique played a role—low-quality techniques meant lower chances of survival.

Elijah exhaled sharply, shaking off his thoughts.

He needed to focus.

He opened his Mission Log, the glowing blue screen materializing in front of him.

[Missions]

[Tier 1 Mission - Don't just go for the target. Show everyone who the Top Dog is.]

[Reward: 300 System Points]

[Tier 0 Mission - Recruit more members]

[Main Target: Jack Black, and gain three more members]

[Reward: 100 System Points]

Elijah sighed, his expression unreadable. These were the only missions available.

Leaning his head against the cold window, he closed his eyes for a moment.

Then, the train jerked to a halt, and with a faint hiss, the doors slid open.

Kai, who had been quiet until now, opened his eyes and said, "Let's go."

They stepped onto the platform, greeted by the vibrant chaos of the West District at night.

Neon lights flashed across the streets, their reflections dancing on the wet pavement.

The air was thick with a mixture of alcohol, smoke, and the heavy scent of cheap perfume.

The streets were alive—laughter, music, and shouting filled the atmosphere as people moved between nightclubs and strip joints, indulging in their desires.

Women in provocative outfits leaned against dimly lit doorways, their eyes scanning for customers.

Men, some in suits, others in more casual attire, swaggered through the district, their pockets heavy with cash.

Behind tinted windows, figures could be seen engaging in pleasures that Elijah had no interest in witnessing.

His gaze lowered as he clenched his jaw. He had always hated this place.

Kai, walking slightly ahead, seemed unfazed.

"This district is ruled by the Devil Eaters," he said, glancing at Elijah.

"Second biggest gang around here. They wear suits and act all professional, but at the end of the day, this place is just a hunting ground for them. People come here to drown in their desires."

Elijah scoffed. "And you think we should do the same when we take over?" His voice was sharp, almost accusing.

Kai chuckled, unbothered. "I'm saying we do it differently."

Elijah's expression darkened. "There is no difference when all you're doing is letting people sell their souls. Don't try to make it sound noble."

Kai shrugged. "Is it really bad, though? We aren't the ones forcing them. People choose to sell their souls, just like people choose to buy drugs. If there was no demand, none of this would exist. People want pleasure, so someone has to provide it. If not us, then someone else will."

Elijah fell silent. As much as he hated to admit it, Kai had a point.

The world didn't care about morality—only power.

Kai smirked. "Anyway, I don't come here for that. I come here for the fights. That's where the real money is."

"And what about tonight?" Elijah asked.

Kai's grin widened. "Big bets are on tonight. If you win, we could make $1,000 by the end of the night."

Elijah thought for a moment before asking, "How much money do you have?"

Kai looked at him, puzzled. "About $500. Why?"

Elijah's eyes gleamed with determination. "Bet $1,500 on me."

Kai's expression shifted, eyebrows furrowing in disbelief. "You're not thinking of entering the One-versus-Four match, are you?"

Elijah nodded without hesitation. "That's exactly what I want."

Kai stared at him, his usual playful demeanor fading.

He knew Elijah wasn't joking. A One-versus-Four match was nearly impossible to win in the lower leagues.

If Elijah pulled it off, he would earn $6,000 plus another $1,000 if he won against Ray.

But the odds of survival?

Almost none.

Kai took a deep breath. "Are you sure about this? If you lose, we're broke again."

Elijah met his gaze, unshaken. "I'm sure."

Kai sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Alright, leader... don't lose. I've got around $1,000 on my card, but Jack's fight requires upfront payment. If you go through with this, you'll be too exhausted to fight him."

Elijah smirked. "I'll fight him."

Kai studied Elijah's eyes, finding nothing but unwavering confidence. He exhaled sharply, then chuckled. "Do you even have the money for it?"

Elijah grinned. "You think you're the only one who's been saving?"

Kai let out a low whistle before shaking his head. "Alright then, let's do this. Just make sure you win all your matches. If you do, your reputation as the new top dog at school will be solidified, and our plans will move forward without a hitch."

Elijah nodded, his blood boiling with anticipation.

Fights in the underground leagues were brutal, but they were nothing compared to those held among the higher-tier gangs.

The fighters in the lower leagues were desperate men clawing for scraps, but in the elite circles, it was a completely different world.

Beta, Alpha, and Lord-ranked gang fighters were treated like superhumans.

Some were said to possess strength beyond humans—stories circulated about individuals who could cut a car in half with a single strike.

To the weaker fighters, those abilities were nothing but a dream, an unreachable peak that served as a reminder of their insignificance.

The fights in those high-tier arenas weren't just brutal—they were legendary, battles that could shake entire districts.

Every punch, every clash of fists and steel, was a testament to the raw power that ruled this world.

And Elijah planned to climb to the top of it all.