Out of all the super traits everyone had received after going through the Vow and the special training with Aron, Na’s ability was the simplest for others to notice. In fact, it was the simplest to understand overall. There was nothing mystical, strange, or complicated about it. It didn’t require heightened senses, special awareness, or some new understanding of the body.
Na’s trait was pure, straightforward, unmistakable:
Super strength.
Na’s power wasn’t subtle in the slightest. His punches could crack the concrete floor if he swung with even a fraction too much force. His grip strength could bend metal bars. If he slammed his fist into a wall, it would break, every time. His body had become something beyond what a normal human could ever achieve.
Even so, Na’s full strength was nowhere near someone like Hercules, the veteran fighter whose power was already famous. But Na didn’t need to reach that level. His raw strength alone was enough to push him into the territory of being superhuman , and that created a very real problem.
A punch that could break concrete...
A strike that could tear straight through a building wall...
If that kind of force hit a regular human,
He would kill them instantly.
That thought terrified Na more than the fights themselves.
Ever since unlocking his ability, he had been working nonstop to control his strength. Every day he tried to practice subtlety: opening doors gently, picking up objects slowly, shaking someone’s hand without hurting them. Controlling raw strength wasn’t too difficult on its own.
But controlling it in the middle of a fight , that was a nightmare.
In a real fight, instinct took over. A person swung without thinking. Speed and strength blended together naturally. And speed multiplied power. Even if Na tried to limit the force behind his strikes, if his speed spiked even slightly, the resulting impact could become lethal.
How was he supposed to hold back strength...
while also holding back speed...
while also trying not to lose?
That was one problem.
And the second problem was far worse.
He had to manage all of this while fighting someone trying to hit him with everything they had. His blood boiled. His instincts screamed to react. His body was trained to attack back, not soften itself mid-strike.
In the end, Na had only thrown that final punch because his opponent had gone for a dirty move, aiming directly at a place no fighter should ever strike. Na had reacted instinctively, correcting his balance and countering in one swift motion.
’I managed to hold back somewhat...’ Na thought as he stepped out of the cage, breathing heavily. Staff rushed to the fallen man, checking his ribs. ’But if I keep winning fights like this, people are going to get suspicious.’
He flexed his fingers slightly, feeling the faint vibration still tingling through his bones. Even when he held back, the danger of killing someone was always there.
Sheri leaned forward from her table the moment Na walked out. Her tension dissolved into relief.
"Whoa, he did a good job!" she said. "It looks like we won, right? And he did it without getting hurt, which is good."
"That’s the least he should be able to do," Aron responded.
Sheri turned her head, studying Aron’s expression. It wasn’t the first time she’d heard him speak about Na with that tone, dismissive, cold, sharp. She knew both men were part of Max’s security, yet the way Aron talked about him made her wonder.
While they waited for the next match to begin, she couldn’t help asking.
"Is... something going on between the two of you? Is there a reason you don’t like Na?"
"A reason?" Aron repeated with a short, humorless breath. "There’s more than one reason."
He kept his eyes forward, but his jaw clenched as he spoke.
"He’s put Max in a lot of trouble in the past. In some cases, you could even say he was an enemy. I’m only telling you this now because of your own safety. Na is not someone you should trust."
Sheri’s stomach tightened.
"In fact," Aron continued, "he was part of the group, and part of the reason, why Abby ended up the way she did."
The air left Sheri’s lungs.
Her heartbeat thudded painfully in her chest.
Abby.
Whenever she thought of Abby, what happened to her, how her life had been altered, Sheri still felt something inside her crumble. A piece of her had gone missing the day she learned the truth.
She had never known exactly who was responsible. Never seen the faces of the people tied to that tragedy.
But now she had a name.
Na.
Her fingers dug into the table.
Her vision blurred with sudden anger.
Even looking at him from across the venue, even seeing him sitting quietly at another table, she felt an urge to scream. To storm over there and demand answers. To ask him why he had ever been involved in any of that. Why he did the things he did.
But she didn’t move.
She couldn’t.
She forced herself to sit still.
Across the room, Na sat at a round table with other contestants. Some drank water, others downed alcohol fearlessly as if the fights ahead meant nothing to them. Maybe they believed alcohol would help. Or maybe they simply didn’t care.
"Hey, big guy!" one fighter called out, slapping the table. "You did a good job out there! You hit him right in the ribs, I saw it! You must have one hell of a punch. I think I heard them crack from here!"
Na said nothing. He didn’t even look at the man. He just stared straight ahead, expression blank, hands still.
"Hey!" another fighter snapped. "What’s your problem? What a rude bastard. You win one fight and suddenly you think you’re some big shot? I’ve seen people like you. They always fall."
Na still didn’t react.
He didn’t want to talk to them.
He didn’t have anything to say.
And most importantly...
He didn’t want to remember.
Because having a super trait now brought back memories of who he used to be, and the vow he had made.
The vow he could never break.