Prologue

Tokyo, Japan
2014

Voices. Roaring out loud. A thousand? No, there were more. Roaring. Roaring out loud. Shouting, hoarse. The stomping of feet. So intense, the very ground seemed to quake. They pounded away in unison, set to a rhythm. Getting faster now, slowly building up. As if in sync with it, the lone woman sitting in the dark room felt her heartbeat speed up. It was drumming in her chest now, vibrating fit to burst. Blood pumping through her veins. She felt light, brittle. Each hammering thud of the feet from the stands above felt as if it were shaking her like a leaf. Her stomach felt tense, and an electric sensation filled her. She had experienced it before. A nameless, powerful something that always gripped her at times like this. Equal parts fear and excitement. A constant chatter of thoughts flowed through her head, and she ignored it. Giving heed to them would be a fatal mistake. She tuned it out, something she had gotten used to doing. Instead, she decided to roll her shoulders a few times, checking to make sure they weren't stiff. Her body shone slightly from the thin, almost invisible film of sweat that coated her. She was nice and warmed up.

There was a single door into the room she was in, and it was right in front of her. That door opened now, and the light from outside fell on her. She kept her eyes trained on the floor, giving them time to adjust to the change in illumination. A voice spoke, directed at her.

"It's time. Get out there!"

Without a word, she rose to her feet, jumping lightly on the balls of her feet twice, before walking forward. The man at the door, an old greying one, face lined from all the things he had seen, stared at her, unable to look away. He stared with morbid fascination, akin to that which people must have had in times of old, when prisoners were sent into the arena, to be fed to the lions for sport. He stared with that same feeling, but with something else too. Something maybe only a few men in history have had the privilege of experiencing. Unable to hold back his thoughts, he spoke out.

"Hey, are you really going to do it?"

The woman didn't even stop. She walked right past him, head held high. The old man's jaw dropped open, as he hurried to keep up.

The light grew brighter as the woman ascended the stairs in front of her, and the sounds of screaming voices grew louder too, until at last, she stood in the open. She stepped on the elevated mat in front of her. Circular, it was reminiscent in a way of the arenas of old. As soon as she set foot on the battleground, the chatter in her head ceased. The butterflies in her stomach were stamped out, replaced by firmness. She felt power in every fibre of her body, and a primal urge in her growing. She allowed it to flood her, allowed that familiar feeling to consume her, allowing that savage urge to take over, making the switch from the woman she was on the streets… to the being she was in the ring.

Roaring out loud, she raised her arms up high, facing the crowd, and was greeted with explosive applause. They loved seeing her, and she loved feeding off their emotion. The ring announcer's voice rang out, loud and clear.

"Ladies and gentlemen. She is the one you came to see. Fighting out of Chiba, Japan, at a height of 5 feet and seven inches, weighing in at 60 kilos. She is the reigning, defending, undisputed vale tudo champion of the world. Ladies and gentlemen, I PRESENT TO YOU, DEATHMASK!"

Deafening roars flooded the arena, and the woman screamed with them, throwing out a primal roar that sent shivers of fear through everyone in her vicinity. Clad for the ring, her vest and tights showed off a body that, despite being feminine, was lean and muscled. Most unnerving of all was the paint that covered her face, black and white, turning it into the likeness of a grinning skull. Her hair was cut short, further accentuating her otherworldly, almost predatory aura.

"And her opponent. Fighting out of Tokyo, Japan. Standing 7 feet tall, and weighing in at 150 kilos. Ladies and gentlemen, you are in the presence of the living monster himself: the man with a confirmed kill count in this very ring. He is, VLAD "THE BREAKER" TEPES!"

The man standing across the the circular mat from Deathmask was indeed monstrous, towering over everyone else in the building, with a musculature that belonged in artbooks or horror stories, and not real life. He seemed like he could bend steel with his bare hands, and was even more terrifying because all 7 feet of him knew how to move; was trained, to decimate opponents, painfully.

He now approached the woman, who likewise, strode up to him, showing no hint of fear. The crowd, though excited, quieted down by themselves, each person on the edge of their seat, unwilling to throw either fighter off their game by making noise. They wanted to see these two collide, at their very best, and so, they held their breath, ravenously awaiting the fight to begin.

The two stopped roughly five feet away from each other, and waited for the signal. There was no referee. The fight was over only when one competitor submitted… or was unable to continue. There were no restrictions, aside from a ban on weapons. No gloves, headgear or footgear was allowed. No holds were barred. There were men stationed around the mat, and others behind cameras, to stop the fight immediately should one fighter become unable to fight back. But aside from that… there was nothing to hold either of them back.

The ring announcer, standing to the side, looked at each fighter.

"Are you ready?"

A nod.

"Are you ready?"

A nod.

"THEN DESTROY!"

Right away, the giant burst into motion, charging towards the woman with a speed that shouldn't have been possible for someone his size. When she was inches from his grasp, she sidestepped, barely avoiding being taken off her feet. Not giving him a moment, she swung her leg low, catching him in the back of the knee, right in the joint. The Breaker's incredible muscle mass and power weren't of any use when he was hit here, and his leg buckled, just for a moment. Without letting up, the woman hammered in another low roundhouse, this time succeeding in getting him to stagger. His hand instinctively reached for the attacked knee, a reaction to pain. However, he was able to catch himself, and attempted to jab the woman. Instead of guarding, she moved to one side, turning on her axis, allowing the blow to miss her. Grabbing the extended limb, she slammed her knuckle into the hollow of its elbow, causing the man to scream in pain.

Within ten seconds, faced with an opponent twice her size, she had damaged one of his limbs, and completely obliterated another. The effect of having an arm and leg taken away had more than halved his ability to fight back. More than the pain, it had dulled his mind. Made it slower to react. Taking advantage of this, the woman attacked with a weapon capable of truly incapacitating a giant: a knee strike to the head, delivered with the full range of motion, and the momentum of a jump behind it. It connected with a thundering impact.

However, she had miscalculated. Because of his tremendous skeletal size, he was sturdier than most, and the impact wasn't enough to knock him unconscious. And it was now too late to back away.

Using his remaining arm, she gripped her head. His hand felt like it was made of metal, and she felt as if he might crush her skull with his grip alone. He lifted her off the ground, and she covered up, lifting her legs up to protect her body while raising her arms to cover her face. She felt a knee collide with her arms, and felt one of the bones in her left forearm break. Immediately after that, she felt herself rising higher, and knew she was going to be slammed into the ground. Given the giant's power, that would mean a certain broken back. Grabbing onto his arm quickly with both her own, she swung her body up like a pendulum and got her legs around it too. Adjusting her position so that she was along the back of his arm, she pulled, while thrusting her hips forward. At this point, she didn't even care about getting him to tap out. She just wanted to disable his remaining arm. Her explosive pull didn't succeed, however. The giant had twisted his arm, so that she was no longer pulling against the elbow's natural direction of movement. He swung violently, managing to throw her off. It wasn't a proper slam, but she hit the ground hard.

Getting to her feet, she backed away, creating distance between them again.

And for the first time in many years, she felt fear during a fight.

There was a monster in front of her, hellbent on hurting her. He was bigger, stronger, and refused to go down no matter how much punishment she dished out.

In that moment, she knew that submitting would be pointless. He would not let go. He was out for blood.

Her only option was to fight.

It took her less than a second to realize this.

And as soon as she did, she acted.

Channelling her fear, and her drive for survival, she looked the monster in the eye, and even as the terror flooded her, she laughed.

It was something she had done in the ring before. Laughed during exchanges of blows, or when she was caught in submission holds. Over the years, it had become a potent psychological weapon. At first, because it was downright unnerving to any opponent to face someone who laughed at pain. And in time, she'd come to believe in the persona behind the laugh: Deathmask. A figure that revelled in pain, and did not know fear or quit. And with that belief, the laugh had gotten more and more twisted.

Right now, her laugh sounded almost like a hacking cough, mixed with drool, spiralling out of control.

She made sure to maintain eye contact as she did so, and noticed the almost imperceptible twitch that told her… he was shaken.

They were both afraid.

As long as they were both feeling fear, she was in control.

The two of them dashed in at the same time. She knew now that she couldn't hope to grapple him or put him in a joint lock or chokehold. He was too strong, and would end up reversing it. That left only one option: to beat him at striking, and knock him out.

When they were both in range, he pushed a leg forward in a straight kick, which she parried. Moving closer, she once again delivered a roundhouse to his weakened knee. Before she could follow up, however, the man swung his remaining arm in a vicious counter hook. She desperately raised her arms to block, but part of the blow managed to clip her in the head. She saw stars, and felt her legs nearly give out, as her senses grew faint. Right at the last moment, however, she was able to hold on, and stay conscious.

The man attempted another punch. Fear bubbled inside her, but she managed to stay calm, blocking the body blow with her elbow, before countering with a final, devastating roundhouse that completely destroyed his knee.

The giant kneeled at last, and she knew victory was within her grasp.

Leaving nothing to chance this time, she swung both her palms at his temples, rattling his skull, disorienting him. As she wound back her knee, she looked into his eyes, and this time, saw the fear in them clearly. It was vivid, had taken hold of him. He knew he was about to be knocked out. Knew he was too injured to react. Knew there was no way he'd survive another impact to the skull.

This was her doing.

She had gone up against him, chosen to face him, when no one else would. She had systematically attacked his weaknesses and avoided getting caught by his strength. One by one, she had taken away his weapons, left him defenceless, and now, she would land the finishing blow.

What have I become?

Her body was already in motion. The movements embedded through years of training, the motions ingrained in her, as natural as breathing. It happened on its own. She swung her hip, smoothly, powerfully, catching him clean in the chin with a perfectly executed knee strike. She felt the vibration, as his head shook from the blow; felt his jaw break, and saw his eyes roll up into the back of his head.

She took a step back, and he fell forward, unconscious.

It was all over.

The focus that limited her consciousness to only the fight, to the opponent, to that which could hurt her, and that which she could use to hurt him, faded away, and the sounds of the people around her reached her once more.

They were screaming out loud, nearly insane. It was a garbled, incomprehensible mess, multiple voices drowning each other out, but she was able to make out bits and pieces of what they said.

"Deathmask is immortal!"

"She took down that giant. God damn it, I've never seen anything like that!""Deathmask does not fucking die, baby!"Her head felt like it was afloat. It was ringing, jolts of pain shooting through it at intervals. Her arm was numb, throbbing. With the adrenaline rush gone, she was finally feeling the effects of the battle. She might have taken down Vlad, but the giant hadn't gone down without a fight.

What felt like electricity shot through her skull, and she closed her eyes, wincing in pain. And once more, an image flashed in front of her.

The giant, breaking free of her hold like it was nothing, ragdolling her.

Breaking her arm with a single strike.

And finally, the moment before she had finally brought him down. The absolute fear in his eyes.

The crowd had broken into a chant.

"Deathmask! Deathmask! Deathmask!..."

"No more," she muttered. "No more. I'm done."

In the locker room, she showered, washing off the facepaint as well. Under the black and white skull, most people would agree she was exceptionally beautiful. That face was now marked by the vicious blow that had glanced against it, leaving one eye swollen. It wasn't the first shiner she had received, but there was something different about this time. After she finished washing herself, she got dressed, putting on a simple pair of cargoes and a t shirt, and slipping a hoodie on over it. She packed up her things and slung her bag over her shoulder, ready to leave.

As she made her way towards the way, she found her path blocked.

"Leaving so soon?"

There were three of them. Two were hulking bodyguards, but children compared to the giant she had just put down. It was the one in the middle who had addressed her. He was well into his fifties, but looked younger than his age despite the many lines on his face. She knew him well, and disliked him intensely.

"Yes," she said simply. She was in no mood for a fight, or even a confrontation.

He raised an eyebrow.

"Now? Now of all times? You just thrashed frigging Vlad! You know, the genetic freak, the monster? And you're leaving now?"

"Damn straight. Now if you could just move out of the way…"

The man chuckled.

"You know, you were always a wildcard. From the moment you first came here, I knew you were impossible to predict. One year. That's all it took for you to become the top fighter here. You went through everyone we threw at you, and you laughed. Deathmask has no fear, does she? Picked 'em all apart. And then, one day, you're standing at the top of the mountain. You've become a fucking legend. And you just decide to… leave. Just like that."

"Just like that."

The man frowned.

"You know something, Hiratsuka? You're fighting a losing battle. I could put any man on the planet in front of you, and you'd find a way to beat him. But walking away from this? From the blood on those fists? That's something you'll never be able to do. So you can deny it all you want… but you'll always be Deathmask."

She allowed herself a wry smile, though she was shaking.

"Deathmask is dead, John. Let her die with some dignity."

The man stared at her hard for a moment, before grunting and moving aside, signalling his bodyguards to do the same.

"The money's been transferred to your account. 100 million yen. Enjoy your retirement."

She nodded, and walked past them.

"Say, what are you going to do anyway? You don't seem like the type to sit on your ass all day."

"Heh. I don't know. Maybe I'll become a teacher or something. Sounds like a cushy job."

The man broke into loud laughter, nearly doubling over.

"A… hahahaha… a teach… hahahahaha… teacher? You? Hmph...hahahhahahaha! Forget that, I haven't laughed this hard in years! I think you've found your other talent: you'd make a great comedian."

"Fuck off, John."

And so it was, that Hiratsuka Shizuka, undisputed champion of the underground vale tudo league of the world, retired from competition. She was one of the rare few who walked away with her body intact, and a fortune in hand as well. Little did she know, her story still had plenty of excitement left to throw at her.