Riku Thanawan is a prodigy born into violence. At just seventeen, he’s already survived countless underground fights, trained under brutal street legends, and earned the nickname "The Silent Fist"—because he never speaks in the ring.

But behind the cold stare and bloodied fists is a boy who never chose this life.

Dragged into the underground MMA world by a father obsessed with power, Riku only knows one thing: fight, survive, repeat. He doesn’t care about titles. He doesn’t care about fame. All he wants is to escape the endless violence and find meaning in a life outside the cage.

That fragile hope arrives in the form of Akari Misaki, a quiet, kind classmate who doesn’t flinch when she sees his broken hands and bruised face. Her warmth begins to thaw something Riku thought was long dead.

But in a world where weakness is death, love is a luxury he can’t afford.

When a new underground tournament begins—one that pits the deadliest fighters across the city in brutal, unsanctioned combat—Riku is forced to step back into hell. His fists become his voice. His silence becomes his weapon. And his path to freedom is paved with shattered bones and spilled blood.

In this world, emotion is a weakness—but maybe, just maybe, it’s what makes him human.


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“I don’t fight to win. I fight to stop fighting.”
— Riku Thanawan

Chapter 2 – The Girl with the Red Scarf


Shoes scraped against linoleum floors. Chairs dragged. Laughter bounced between lockers.


He walked with silent steps, black hoodie pulled over his head, duffle bag hanging from his shoulder. A red bruise colored his jaw, partially hidden by his hair. His eyes were dead still—focused on nothing, like glass.


The only sound he made was the quiet thud of his bag hitting the floor when he sat by the window in Class 2-B.


"Good morning," came a soft voice beside him.


A girl was sitting next to him—she always did. But he'd never really looked at her. Today, he did.


She had long, chestnut-brown hair tied in a gentle ponytail, bangs framing her round face. Her eyes were wide and honey-colored, glowing under the morning sun. She wore a red scarf with her school uniform, delicate and clean, with a small cat pin clipped to her collar.


She smiled at him, even though he said nothing.


Later, during homeroom, he could feel her glance. Not in a nosy way—more like quiet curiosity. She wasn't scared. That was odd.


When he moved, his ribs ached. The fight from last night hadn't healed yet. He'd taken a spinning elbow to the side. CRACK—fracture or not, he hadn't checked.


The words slipped into his ear like a whisper.


He blinked and turned. She was looking at his hand—his right hand, shaking slightly as he gripped his pen.


There was dried blood in the edge of his fingernail.


"I'm fine," he muttered, voice dry and flat.


She tilted her head slightly. "Do you get into fights a lot?"


Her expression didn't change. No judgment. No fear. Just… concern.


"You know," she said, brushing her bangs behind her ear, "I used to think people who got into fights were scary. But then I realized some people fight because they have no choice."


After school, the sky was gray and soft. Drizzle tapped against the pavement.


Riku stood by the gates, his hoodie up, bag in hand.


She stood under a small red umbrella, her bag pressed against her chest. She looked up and caught his eye.


And then—without a word—she walked over and held the umbrella out to cover him.


She smiled again. That same soft, dangerous smile.


"Because you look like someone who's never been under one."


The cold rain stopped hitting his shoulders.


Chapter 2 - The Girl With The Red Scarf