Chapter 240: "Thank You For Your Interest"

The referee secured the cage door, and a loud buzzer sounded through the arena.

BZZZZZZT!

The crowd erupted, the spectators nearest the cage shouting loudly enough to drown out nearly everything else.

Inside the cage, however, the atmosphere was strangely calm.

None of the fifteen fighters attacked immediately. Instead, they spread out and began circling Aren, gradually surrounding her while maintaining enough distance to avoid interfering with one another.

Their movements were deliberate, though the way they looked her up and down suggested that most were paying considerably more attention to her appearance than to her fighting stance.

It wasn’t long before the first taunts began.

"Well, look at that. They sent us a pretty little ballerina!"

"Fifteen of us and one pretty little thing? Hope you’ve got enough holes for everybody!"

"Hey, princess! How about you get on your knees now? Save us the trouble of putting you there!"

"Nah, how about you give us a private dance after this? Bet you’re real flexible in that outfit."

The men burst into laughter before Aren had even considered answering. Several glanced toward the audience, evidently pleased with their own wit, while others flexed their arms and grinned at her as though they expected the remarks to frighten or embarrass her.

Aren paid them little attention.

She’d already used the time before the bell to make an initial assessment of all fifteen opponents, and their behavior now only added to what she’d observed.

Physically, they were impressive enough. Most carried substantial muscle, and several bore old scars that suggested considerable experience with violence.

Nevertheless, the details interested her more than their size.

Their muscle development, the wear on their hands, and the way they carried their weight suggested that many had spent years performing ordinary physical labor before entering the underground fighting circuit. Whatever training they’d subsequently received, they didn’t move like professional soldiers.

That was an important difference.

She had always considered the possibility that she might eventually encounter someone with a background comparable to her own. Former soldiers and mercenaries sometimes developed a taste for blood sports, and an underground fighting circuit would be a plausible place to find them.

Such opponents tended to be considerably more troublesome, particularly when their training included combat against multiple armed enemies.

She hadn’t encountered anyone of that caliber since beginning her matches at the Pit, but she had no reason to assume she never would.

Fortunately, the fifteen men before her didn’t appear to fall into that category.

Having finished her assessment, Aren stepped closer to the center of the cage.

"Thank you for your interest, gentlemen," she said politely. "But I don’t have fifteen holes, nor do I know how to dance. I think we should concentrate on the match. There are quite a few of you. I’d prefer not to spend the entire evening here."

The laughter faltered.

Several fighters exchanged glances, uncertain whether she’d deliberately insulted them or simply failed to appreciate their attempts at intimidation.

One of the larger men took an aggressive step forward.

"What the fuck did you just say?"

Another joined him, his face twisting with irritation.

"You think you’re too good to talk to us, you stuck-up little bitch? We’ll see how polite that mouth is once we’ve knocked a few teeth out!"

A third pointed at her.

"Don’t worry, princess. We’ll get you on your knees soon enough. Then you can show us what that pretty mouth’s really good for!"

Aren gave them a flat look, already tired of the endless talking.

"I apologize if I wasn’t clear," she replied. "I meant that I would appreciate it if you attacked together. It would save time."

That finally seemed to settle the matter. For a moment, the men simply stared at her, then several faces darkened at once.

"Fucking stupid bitch!"

One fighter raised his enormous arm and swept it toward the others, signaling them to advance.

"Brothers! Let’s teach this bitch a fucking lesson right here and now! See if she can still run that mouth when we’re done with her!"

"Fuck yeah!"

"Let’s teach her a lesson!"

The men charged all at once.

The first reached Aren almost immediately, throwing a heavy punch straight at her face.

Whoosh!

Aren dropped beneath it.

Her foot struck his supporting leg, disrupting his balance so abruptly that his upper body pitched forward. Before he could recover, she rose from her crouch and drove a kick into the side of his head.

THWACK!

The impact knocked him unconscious immediately. He was still collapsing when the second fighter reached her, both hands raised for a powerful downward strike.

"DIE, YOU BITCH!"

Aren considered it.

’Well... I kinda already did.’

She turned aside before his fists descended, letting the blow miss her completely. As his momentum carried him forward, she stepped into the opening beside him and delivered a precise punch to his temple.

THWACK!

His vision flashed white. He lost his balance and consciousness almost simultaneously, falling beside his companion.

The crowd exploded.

Two fighters were down before the others had properly registered what had happened. A mixture of cheers, curses, and astonished shouting swept through the arena as spectators struggled to follow the movements inside the cage.

For the remaining fighters, the sight was considerably less entertaining.

They knew enough about fighting to recognize what they’d just witnessed.

Knocking out an opponent with a single clean strike was difficult even under favorable circumstances. Doing it twice in rapid succession, against much larger men who were actively attacking, required a degree of precision none of them had anticipated.

Worse, the woman responsible hadn’t appeared to exert herself, and she seemed unwilling to give them time to dwell on that realization.

Rather than retreating, Aren had already advanced toward them.

The sudden aggression caught several off guard. They’d expected to surround her and force her into a defensive position, not find themselves reacting to her attacks.

One man reached for her arm, aiming to seize her forearm and wrench it hard enough to break the bone.

Aren recognized his intention before his hand reached her. She slipped out of his grasp and sprang upward, driving her foot into the side of his face.

THWACK!

As he staggered, she used his shoulder to propel herself toward the next opponent, twisting in the air and striking the second man’s head with another powerful kick.

THWACK!

Both men collapsed with heavy thuds that shook the cage.

The remaining fighters attempted to close ranks, but Aren was already moving among them.

Each time someone reached for her, she evaded him and counterattacked before he could recover. One after another, men who’d entered the cage confident of overwhelming a single opponent found themselves sprawled across the floor.

Around the cage, the crowd’s mood began to change. The jeering hadn’t stopped entirely, but it was now competing with increasingly excited cheers.

People who’d arrived expecting to watch fifteen men humiliate a young woman were discovering that the rumors surrounding Ariana Lombardi’s undefeated record might not have been exaggerated after all.

"Holy shit, is she for real?"

"Any chance this shit’s staged too?"

"No fucking way. I’ve been coming here for ten years, and I’ve never seen a single rigged fight. That’s my favorite fighter in there!"

"Then what are you saying, dude? Lombardi actually won all those matches herself?"