Evolution of the Ruined Heir - Chapter 200

Chapter 200: Street Rat
As Malakai entered the space, all eyes turned toward him. One of the guards in black suits approached.

“You’re mandated to wear this.”

Malakai looked at the object in the man’s hand. ‘A regulator.’

He wasn’t surprised. Rhett had already told him this would happen. To make things interesting, all contestants had to fight at Genesis level strength.

He nodded and slipped it on, immediately feeling his strength drop to the Genesis stage.

‘I still have my Vita sense.’ Despite the regulator, he could still feel the flow of Vita around him.

“Wait here and go through that door when your name is called.” The guard gestured to the biggest door at the far end of the room before turning and walking away.

Malakai shifted his gaze across the room.

Some contestants stood, hunched against walls. Others were crumpled on the floor, bruised and bloody, struggling to breathe. A few sat comfortably on side benches, unbothered.

‘Other contestants,’ Malakai calmly identified, moving toward an empty wall and resting against it.

Not even a second passed before his eyes glinted.

‘Killing intent.’

He couldn’t mistake the feeling.

‘Who?’

While it was normal to intimidate newcomers, Malakai could tell this was different. Someone genuinely wanted to kill him.

His gaze turned, and landed on a ripped man looking at him with open hostility.

As their gazes met, the man stood, flanked by what Malakai assumed were his minions, and began approaching.

“This little runt’s the one they used to replace me?” the man scoffed, the disdain clear in his voice.

He spat at Malakai’s feet as he reached him, towering over him with menace.

“Brat, the main event tonight is mine. Quit now, or I promise you… you’ll regret ever stepping in here.”

Malakai raised his eyes and met the man’s gaze. Then, without a word, a wave rippled from him. Cold.

Killing intent.

A shiver shot through the man’s spine. He took a step back before he even realized it.

A second passed. Then another. And when his actions registered… his eyes widened.

‘Did I… move backwards?’ He looked down at his foot in disbelief.

‘My heart?’ His heartbeat was racing.

His arms… were trembling.

‘I’m… scared… of him?’

The thought chilled his blood. A flush of red burned through his face as the shame settled in.

“You bast—” he began to snarl, taking a step forward, but a voice boomed through the underground space.

“Ladies and gentlemen! I hope y’all are sitting on the edge of your seats, because it’s time for the main event!”

Roars and cheers erupted, silencing the confrontation.

“Get ready.”

The guard had addressed Malakai directly, sending a warning glance towards the man.

The man gritted his teeth, glaring at Malakai for a long moment before backing away along with his minions.

‘Looks like it’s time.’

Unlike the man who was glaring holes into him, Malakai wasn’t even looking at him. They were all wearing regulators, their powers lowered to the Genesis stage. He didn’t see any of them as a threat.

Malakai walked over to the large door, just as the announcer’s voice boomed again, calling the first participant.

“Ladies and gentlemen, prepare yourselves!” the voice was filled with energy. “This next warrior once crushed a darkness creature with his bare hands during a breakout in the Murkroot district! He’s a one man earthquake! A walking demolition! I give you… Gorath the Crusher!”

A large man with steel like muscles stepped confidently onto the arena, and the crowd erupted in thunderous cheers.

“Make us rich, Gorath!”

“I’ll bet my whole money on you!”

“Crush his skull!”

The shouts were endless, and Gorath seemed to bask in every second of it.

He walked proudly around the stage, raising his massive right arm, muscles rippling as the crowd chanted his name over and over.

“GORATH! GORATH! GORATH!”

The announcer’s voice rang out once more, silencing the crowd.

“And his opponent…”

There was a pause. The announcer cleared his throat.

“Well… this is interesting. According to the card, a kid from the streets of Kaer Thorn…” He looked again at the paper, frowning in confusion before blinking twice.

“…He’s got no prior fights on record, no achievements to his name… and—” he paused, exhaling in disbelief, “Ladies and gentlemen, I give you… Valentine!!”

The gates opened.

Malakai walked onto the stage with a steady gait. Eyes focused, demeanor unflinching.

The booing came almost instantly.

BOOOOOOOOO!!

The crowd screamed at the top of their lungs, hurling jeers and cold insults.

“Go back to the streets, you little runt!”

“Crush this idiot’s skull, Gorath!”

The announcer cleared his throat awkwardly, struggling to maintain the energy.

‘What is the Fourth Fleshling thinking…’

Never in all his years working here had anyone been booed this badly. It was as if the crowd themselves wanted to storm the stage and tear Malakai to pieces.

“Looks like your… warrior isn’t well favored, Captain Rhett,” Whiteshade said coolly beside him.

But Rhett only smiled.

“That’s fine. Not many people can spot talent like I do. I told you, didn’t I?” He grinned, eyes locked on the stage. “The instant I set eyes on him, I saw myself becoming a fuckton rich.”

His eyes remained fixed on Malakai, who stood below in complete silence. Utterly calm and untouched by the chaos around him.

Whiteshade narrowed his eyes slightly. He couldn’t understand why Rhett trusted him this much. But more than that… there was something off.

‘What was that feeling?’

Earlier, when he had stared into Malakai’s eyes… there was something there. That wasn’t the gaze of a street rat.

‘Still… it doesn’t matter.’

He shook the feeling off. ‘Gorath’s a long standing champion. There’s no way a child like that can beat him.’

He’d already had his guards run a scan on Malakai earlier. Only two nodes formed. That meant he was basically still a novice.

‘This’ll be an easy win.’ Whiteshade smiled under his mask and gave a small nod to the announcer.

The announcer nodded back and cleared his throat, his voice rising once more.