Chapter 9: Beneath the Neon Veil

The team arrived at a sleek, unassuming high-rise on the outskirts of the city, its mirrored surface reflecting the vibrant lights of the surrounding metropolis. To the untrained eye, it was just another corporate building, but Vale's expression suggested otherwise. He led the group into an underground elevator hidden behind a false wall in the lobby.

The hum of the elevator was drowned out by the muffled pulse of heavy bass growing louder as they descended. By the time the doors opened, the air was alive with energy, the unmistakable rhythm of a nightclub overtaking their senses.

"Welcome to Echelon," Vale said grimly.

The scene that unfolded before them was a spectacle of chaos and indulgence. The club's interior was a sprawling mix of luxury and depravity. The main floor was packed with bodies moving in time to the relentless beat of the music, the flashing neon lights casting sharp shadows across the room. High above the dance floor, holographic projectors displayed shifting images of fighters locked in combat. Screens embedded in the walls showcased ongoing matches, each more brutal than the last.

"Not exactly subtle," Ayaka said, her sharp eyes scanning the crowd.

Vale's gaze swept the room. "It's not meant to be. This is Toren's playground, his way of flaunting power and control."

The team pushed their way through the crowd, their presence drawing a few curious glances but nothing more. The patrons here were too consumed by the intoxicating mix of music, alcohol, and violence to pay much attention.

The back of the club opened into a series of private VIP sections, each more opulent than the last. Velvet ropes separated the upper tiers from the masses below, guarded by towering bouncers with glowing cybernetic eyes. Vale led them to an exclusive balcony overlooking the center of the club.

There, seated on a high-backed chair surrounded by sycophants and security, was Dr. Mikhail Orinov. His thin frame was draped in a sleek, dark suit, his pale face a mask of calm detachment. He watched the chaos below with a faint smile, swirling a glass of crimson liquid in one hand.

"That's him," Rin whispered, her voice barely audible over the music.

Orinov's gaze shifted as they approached, his smile widening. "Well, well. The Task Force graces us with their presence. What an unexpected surprise."

"Cut the pleasantries," Vale said, stepping forward. "We're here for information."

Orinov chuckled, his voice smooth and mocking. "Of course you are. But information is a commodity, Captain Vale. And here, commodities are earned, not given."

Rye bristled, his fists clenching at his sides. "What do you want?"

Orinov's sharp eyes locked onto Rye, his smile growing predatory. "You."

Rye stiffened. "What about me?"

Orinov gestured toward the holographic displays. "Echelon isn't just a nightclub. It's an arena, a proving ground for the strongest and most ruthless. You want my help? Prove your worth in the ring."

Rye's heart sank as the crowd's roar intensified. On one of the larger screens, a brutal match was coming to an end. A towering Saiyan fighter delivered a devastating blow, leaving their opponent crumpled and lifeless on the blood-slicked floor.

"Who do you want me to fight?" Rye asked cautiously.

Orinov's smile widened. "Kane."

The name sent a ripple through the crowd as the monitors switched to display a towering Saiyan stepping into the ring. His muscular frame was augmented with glowing cybernetics, his every movement radiating lethal precision.

"He's one of my best," Orinov said, his tone almost playful. "A veteran of the Dominion's campaigns. If you win, I'll tell you what you want to know. If you lose..."

"What's the catch?" Rye interrupted, his voice firm despite the dread pooling in his stomach.

"If you lose," Orinov said, leaning forward, "your enhancements are mine. And considering the matches here are to the death, well..."

The implication hung in the air.

The team exchanged uneasy glances. Ayaka stepped forward, her voice sharp. "You can't be serious. This is insane—"

Vale raised a hand, cutting her off. "It's Rye's decision."

Rye's mind raced. He looked at Rin and Itsuki, their expressions torn between fear and resolve, then to Ayaka, whose anger was barely contained. Finally, his gaze settled on Kane, who stood in the ring below like a predator waiting for his prey.

"I'll do it," Rye said, his voice steady.

Orinov's grin was wolfish. "Excellent. The match begins in one hour. Prepare yourself, young Saiyan."

As the group was led to a preparation area, the pulse of the club's music pounded in Rye's chest like a second heartbeat. Ayaka grabbed his arm, her sharp eyes boring into his. "You're out of your mind," she hissed. "Do you even know what you're getting into?"

"I don't care," Rye replied, his voice firm. "If this is what it takes to stop Toren, then so be it."

Vale placed a hand on Rye's shoulder, his grip firm. "You've got this. Use everything you've learned, and don't let him dictate the fight."

Rye nodded, his determination solidifying. He turned toward the ring as the crowd's roars grew louder, their bloodlust electrifying the air.

Above, Orinov watched with an amused expression, his fingers steepled. The stage was set, and there was no turning back.