Tech Hero in Another World

When Ren returned to the inn, his steps halted in front of the door to the room he had rented on the second floor. A strange feeling crept into his mind—a subtle pressure in the air, an indistinct presence that seemed to be waiting in silence.

Carefully, he reached for the doorknob. He didn't open it right away; instead, he pressed his ear against the old wooden surface. Silence—except for the sound of his own heartbeat and... something that couldn't be explained. Slowly, he pushed the door open just a crack and peeked inside.

Kumara was standing with her back to the door, gazing out the window. Her posture looked calm, but Ren could feel that the atmosphere in the room wasn't quite right. He stepped inside, and at that moment, the strange presence that had been cloaking the room suddenly vanished—as if it had evaporated into the air.

"Kumara?"

Kumara turned around quickly, briefly startled, but then smiled. "Ah… Master, you're back!"

Ren narrowed his eyes, trying to read her. He walked over to the window where the young girl had just been standing and looked outside, only to find the streets of Eks as busy as ever—no trace of anything unusual.

"Did someone come in while I was gone?" he asked carefully.

"Mm… no, sir." Kumara replied quickly—too quickly, Ren thought. Her eyes shifted slightly, uneasy, though she tried to hide it behind a calm tone.

Ren stared at her for a moment, eyes scanning her expression carefully. But in the end, he simply let out a quiet sigh. Maybe it was just his nerves playing tricks on him... or maybe not.

"All right. Anyway, we're heading out soon. It's time to attend the sacred ceremony of the Champion—Trek."

"Mm, I understand…" Kumara lowered her head slightly, her eyes revealing a trace of doubt that she couldn't quite hide.

Ren looked at her, then gently patted her shoulder. "I feel like this is the wrong move too… but we don't have any other choice. We have to face this head-on."

He gave her a faint smile, trying to offer some encouragement. "Okay, before we go, let's get something to eat downstairs. What would you like?"

Kumara looked at him for a moment, then nodded. "Anything's fine, as long as it's warm."

They made their way down the wooden stairs to the lower floor of the inn, which also served as a bar and communal kitchen. When Ren pushed the door to the dining area open, the small bell above the door chimed softly, announcing their arrival.

That soft chime, for some reason, made Ren's skin crawl. The sound was too sharp—too loud in his ears, like an invisible signal that something was watching them… waiting, hidden among the seemingly ordinary bustle of the city of Eks.

---

Night had just wrapped the city of Eks in its dark veil when Ren and Kumara arrived at the front of the main arena. Torchlight and crystal lanterns lit the path leading to the colosseum—an immense monument built from black stone, a symbol of strength and pride for the southern beastman clans.

Ren was no longer in disguise. He walked tall, clad in his light yet elegant combat attire, with his plasma gauntlets hanging at his waist. Kumara followed closely behind, her head slightly lowered beneath her hood, hiding the anxiety in her slow steps.

The roar of the crowd filled the air even before they stepped inside. Wild cheers, drunken laughter, and the clang of metal blended into a festive yet tense atmosphere. They didn't enter through the main gate, but rather through the gladiator's corridor—a narrow, dark passage once used by fighters entering the battlefield.

When Ren stepped into the center of the arena, the crowd's roar surged.

"THAT'S THE HUMAN CHALLENGED BY THE CHAMPION!"

"LOOKS DECENT… FOR A DEAD MAN WALKING!"

"FINISH HIM, TREK!!"

Ren looked up at the stands encircling the sandy field. Thousands of eyes stared down at him with a frenzy bordering on madness. But his gaze quickly fixed on a single point—a large iron cage hanging from chains above a stone platform. Inside, Alfred was imprisoned, his body bruised and bound, yet the look in his eyes still burned with defiance.

Ren clenched his jaw. This was not just a show of strength—it was a calculated humiliation.

Then, from the opposite side of the arena, he appeared—the figure spoken of only in tales and hushed whispers of dread. Trek. A beastman of monstrous size, a hybrid of bison and minotaur blood. Nearly three meters tall, his massive frame was clad in light armor made from monster hide and crude metal plating. A pair of horns jutted from his head like twin spears, and from chest to back, his muscles bulged with wild, almost unnatural strength.

He strode forward with full confidence, each step shaking the ground, every footfall echoing like a war drum. A wide, arrogant grin stretched across his face, and a deep, booming laugh erupted from his throat.

"FINALLY, THE HUMAN SHOWS UP!" he bellowed, raising one hand high like a hero returning from conquest. "THE COWARD HIDING IN THE SHADOWS FINALLY HAS THE GUTS TO FACE HIS FATE!"

The crowd erupted in even wilder cheers.

"LOOK EVERYONE!" Trek pointed to the cage holding Alfred. "I NEVER PLAY WITH MY FOOD… BUT TONIGHT, SINCE OUR GUEST IS SPECIAL, I'LL MAKE AN EXCEPTION!"

Ren stood tall in the center of the arena, his gaze unwavering as he faced Trek—the towering champion and symbol of Eks's might. His eyes were cold, not from fear, but from a resolve forged through experience, pain, and loss. Kumara, watching from the shadows of the corridor, clenched her hands tightly. Tonight wasn't just a battle. It was the beginning of change—a redemption for a past scarred by prejudice and wounds.

"That's enough talk," said Ren, his voice clear and sharp like steel. "Come down here, big boy. You want a fight, right? Let's make it fair—I won't even use my full gear."

The crowd burst into another frenzy. Cheers, jeers, and wild laughter mixed in the air. Some mocked the bravery of the 'little human,' while others began to feel something different—a presence in the man standing unshaken before their champion.

Trek laughed heartily. "Hooo~. You think I'll be baited by cheap words? Sorry to disappoint, but I'm not some naive brat easily led by hollow challenges."

Yet his words betrayed his actions. With a dramatic flourish, he stepped to the side and reached for the large lever that controlled the cage where Alfred was imprisoned.

"I could end this poor little cat right now," Trek said casually, his tone enough to make blood boil.

"Don't act like a coward!" Ren shouted, stepping forward with eyes ablaze. "And you dare call me a coward? Look at yourself—threatening someone who can't even fight back, all to protect your fragile ego!"

The crowd's cheers shifted into a mix of hysteria and tension. They lived for moments like this—raw emotion, blood, and honor hanging in the balance.

"Hehehe~. Well, you see…" Trek licked his lower lip, his gaze cunning. He knew one thing—he couldn't initiate the duel. According to the ancient combat laws of Eks, a sacred duel had to be started by the challenger. If he made the first move, his honor as champion would be tainted. But if Ren began the fight… then Ren's defeat would cost him everything—even his life.

Ren understood this. He clenched his teeth, but didn't waver.

"Tch…" he muttered under his breath, then raised his right hand high, his voice echoing until the arena fell silent. "I, Ren of the outer world, challenge Trek the Champion in a sacred duel for the highest seat of honor—under the witness of the god of battle, Gorthar!"

As soon as the war god's name was spoken, the arena erupted. The crowd roared louder than ever, and instantly, the altar at the top of the colosseum ignited. The towering statue of Gorthar blazed with a searing red light, signifying that the challenge had been formally declared—and accepted by divine force.

"Hah…" Trek grinned wide. "Finally. I've long awaited the taste of human blood in this arena."

With complete confidence, he leapt down into the ring, the ground trembling beneath his landing.

"I accept your challenge!" Trek roared, his voice like a war drum pounding in their chests. "In the name of the god of battle… GORTHAR!"

The cry echoed throughout the arena, met by thousands of spectators rising from their seats. They raised their arms and chanted in unison, "GORTHAR! GORTHAR! GORTHAR!"

Stomping feet and frenzied shouts created a primal rhythm that shook the atmosphere—a call to blood, honor, and a battle to the end.

Ren, standing firm on the opposite end of the arena, took a deep breath. He shrugged off his worn jacket and let it fall to the ground. What remained was a tight black tank top that clung to his frame, revealing muscles forged by relentless effort.

Strapped to his arm was his Plasma Energy Gauntlet, a piece of advanced technology of his own design—a weapon that fused science and raw power.

(This is going to be a tough fight…) Ren thought, eyes locked on the beast striding toward him.

Trek grinned broadly, fangs bared. "Hoo~ a skinny human with a glowing toy. You really think you can fight me with that?"

Ren didn't respond. He simply clenched his right fist, and the mechanical click of his gauntlet echoed. A blue energy layer enveloped his arm, glowing softly like embers ready to ignite.

Then, a large bell was struck three times by one of Trek's men on the podium.GONG! GONG! GONG!

The official signal—the duel had begun. The arena fell silent, as if the entire world was holding its breath. And then…

WUUAAAHHHH!!!

The crowd's roar shattered the air.