Han exuded confidence naturally. It was also part of his combat style, drilled in by Anita because of his Dragon's Pride. Dragons found it hard to feign emotion or put on a front, and the same held for Han, whose Black Dragon Bloodline was his alone.

For that reason, Han's bearing oozed confidence, even in battle.

Dragons were instinctive beings. The way Dragon's Pride swayed Han was proof enough. In those first days of training, he had to fuel his Dragon's Pride and sharpen his instincts so he could feed them with knowledge.

Then his instincts would carry him in close combat.

BANG!

Smiling, Han blocked another attack. He circled his enemy to gain more combat experience and finished him off with a claw thrust. The enemy plopped down like a puppet with its strings cut.

Han locked onto the third foe. The man had no weapon, just his fists. He raised his guard. They closed and traded, each blocking the other's blows and kicks. Han grew excited at the exchange and sped things up a little, and paid for it with a blow to the chest.

Time seemed to stop.

Han's smile vanished. He tapped his chest where the blow had landed and turned around.

"Well, you did hit me. I won't kill you," he said flatly, walking to Bellatrix's side.

The man lowered his guard and nodded. As he turned to go, four maids converged and skewered him from all sides with thick black needles. His eyes widened, his head arched back, and he muttered his last words.

"Disgraceful…"

Han didn't care. Hearing an assassin talk about disgrace almost made him laugh.

He turned to Anita. "How was it? I pushed it for fun and took things up a notch, but it backfired and the fool still managed to hit me."

"You fought well, Master. It's natural to try new things against such weak opponents, especially after learning so much. I could see that Dragon's Pride affected you a lot, so perhaps it's best to focus on shaping that pride for melee combat?" Anita asked.

Han nodded. "I was too influenced by it, and that got me hit. Just like women find jewelry and dresses cute, men find combat fun, I guess. I'll put more thought into it."

Anita nodded. "Commendable."

Then Denver pulled up at the clinic. He saw the three assassins' bodies, yet no worry or fear crossed his face. He only glanced at them before hopping off the driver's seat. Even his horse seemed unbothered now.

"Assassins, eh? This one seems to have pissed you off," Denver said, eyeing the third corpse, punctured with holes that bled into a dark pool.

Han smiled. "He was dead the moment he came to me. He couldn't possibly piss me off."

"Is that so? Well, let's have fun! I see you're in peak shape, and so is your company! It's going to be fun!" Denver chuckled, looking at Han and Bellatrix. The duo stood out even with masks and a blindfold in place.

The two climbed onto the carriage's driver's seat with Denver.

The maids spread out to keep things safe and orderly.

The journey to the Arena Pit began.

—

Han's carriage pulled up at the Arena Pit. Carriages and crowds packed the approach, yet the Arena Pit's exterior still dominated the view. It reminded him of the the Colosseum on Earth, except this one was on a different scale, big enough to house all the gladiators inside and let them brawl and eat over and over for years.

Han followed the main pathway toward the colosseum with Bellatrix and Denver. His merchant friend pulled him aside, and they took a different route reserved for people who brought their goods into the colosseum. Of course, those goods were slaves, and now Han was on his way to see them again.

As he walked down the path into a space that felt like a prison, he saw countless slave owners and their goods. Each slave received a weapon, armor, and even a little stimulant. It intrigued Han, but he guessed anything went in the Underworld.

Once he reached their room, one of the slaves approached him.

"Master Han."

"Yeah?"

"I was given this."

He handed Han a small vial of greenish liquid. It looked like a doping agent, but Han still asked what it was and whether he'd been told anything about it. The answer was simple: drink and win. The person who gave it to him had promised everything would go smoothly and that all parties would be satisfied, a sketchy claim but the kind someone in a slave's position might want to hear.

It's obviously some kind of doping. I've seen it somewhere… ah, on that monster who attacked my Maid Restaurant. In other words, there's some shady business going on. I could use it to my advantage.

"Well done reporting it to me," Han said to the slave.

The man nodded. "Master Han's spells are far better and not harmful at all. I will prove myself in the Arena Pit and break this fate as a slave, just like you said."

Han was impressed. "Good luck."

The man bowed with clear reverence and thanks.

After that, Han consulted Denver about it.

"It must be those fuckers from Aster's Hand," Denver said, furious. He didn't want anyone meddling with his business and goods, especially since he now had Han by his side. He didn't want any misunderstandings, either.

"That's your guess, hmm? There's a good chance you're right, but I won't bother with them. Let it go, too. Let's take seats in the colosseum and have some fun."

"Sure, but you don't want to bet? I'm confident in our goods, so I'll bet a lot on them tonight!" Denver asked.

Han considered it. "I need money, so why not? Let's have fun."

Bellatrix couldn't understand the allure of forced battles or gambling, but she swore to understand, as her new resolution was to learn about others.

And so, the fun night began.

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