I don't like this

I'm currently walking down the stairs, and it's starting to stink badly.

'Are you absolutely sure this is a good idea, Muramasa?' I wonder to the old rusty blade.

'Not rusty' Muramasa purrs. 'And no, I'm not sure if it is. However, you need more time—time for your willpower to grow. We can't have you going insane, can we? That stink? It's blood. Lots of it.'

Right, insanity. What a wonderful thought, I muse to myself.

'Look sharp—or wait, just keep looking cocky like you are now. Looking cocky is good.'

'Wh-what C-Cocky me? Wh—' I don't get to finish my reply as the bartender stops, and I take notice of my surroundings. Under-dressed women walk around, serving drinks to the men and women seated at tables facing a giant, looming cage. That's when I notice the imposing figures—men and women, some grouped together and others alone, drinking. Again, I catch that stink. No, blood, my mind supplies on its own this time.

"Had 'nuff lookin' 'round, Cleen? Ova there" The bartender points to a group of figures. "Tha's where the fightahs are. Tha's where you'll be. We don' like mixin' non-fightahs with fightahs." He finishes his sentence and walks past me, heading back up the stairs.

'Well, that was helpful, right, Muramasa?'

'Are you going to stand there looking at them? Go up to their area!'

What a grouch, I think to myself. As I get closer, I can feel it—a change. It's scary! Just when I feel it, it's gone…

'Muramasa! What was that?!'

'I retract my earlier statement. You have the weakest willpower I've ever seen. A baby would rival your willpower. Good God, you're mentally weak.'

'In any case, that was the bloodlust and insanity feeding into your system. It also fueled the bloodlust you expel passively. But not to worry—instead of two days, you now have one day to learn to fight, make money, and lower your insanity!' Muramasa cheerfully informs me.

I'm so fu—

"Hey you! You're up for the arena!" A bald man, who I now assume is the referee, yells at me.

As I walk toward what feels like my death, I notice my opponent. He stands around 5'6", likely lighter and less muscular than I am, and he looks clean. He must be new as well. We greet each other in the middle of the arena.

"Ladies and gentlemen! To start tonight's fight..."

This isn't going to end well, I think to myself as the referee introduces me. Apparently, I'm now known as "Clean." That's my stage name, while my opponent is called "Crazy Bat."

'Muramasa, what should I do? How do I start?'

"And start the fight!" the referee announces.

I should have reacted faster—my first thought as Crazy Bat lunges at me. The realization that this is bare-knuckle fighting hits me too late. Before I can brace myself, his left hook connects, rocking my jaw with a jolt of pain.

The next thing I know, I'm on my back, arms raised instinctively to protect myself as Crazy Bat positions himself over me, unleashing a barrage of punches.

I manage to block a few, but when I lower my arms to guard my side, it's a mistake I learn quickly. He takes advantage of the opening, landing a clean blow to my right eye. The impact sends a shockwave through my head, and stars explode behind my eyelids.

I gasp, trying to regain my bearings as Crazy Bat's fists rain down. I can barely register the crowd's roars, the world around me fading in and out of focus. Each punch sends pain shooting through me, a reminder that this is a fight I'm not prepared for.

"Muram—" That's all I could think before a heavy blow lands on my side from his left fist. I can't keep taking it. That's when I feel it again—an urge, one that feels so good the pain doesn't even register anymore. All I can think about is that feeling!

'R—'

'R—'

'Ryo—'

'RYOU!'

I force myself to open my eye, looking around and realizing I'm in the fighters' area.

"About time you woke up" Muramasa mumbles.

I ignore him.

'You can't ignore me'

"I can so"

"You sure? Well, I guess you don't want to know that you won the fight?" My best friend announces.

'Again, not a friend. But yes, you won, unfortunately. However, it did come at a cost.'

"Pretty brutal, man. That smile was scary, and I've seen some things." I turned to the voice that said that and saw an older man, probably in his 30s or 40s, who looked pretty beat up.

"You've been out for about an hour—nothing too bad. But again, man, you're scary! You shoved your hand into his guts! Ah, I know that face. Don't worry, you won't get punished for killing someone here; that's the whole point of this place! Being free and killing? This is the life! Oh, my name's George. I'm from the States, and yeah, I know." I started tuning him out after he mentioned I killed someone. I can't believe it— not even a day in and I've killed someone! My hands are literally stained with someone else's blood! I just need to shove this feeling down and wait for it to die out. I know it won't, but I can't deal with it right now.

'You done with the self-reflecting? Or can we go? You'll heal up as we walk, and I can inform you about what exactly happened' Muramasa, the trusty blade, spoke.

I got up, which silenced him. Mack? No, Jeremy? Ah, "Sorry, George, but I'm heading out. Best of luck to you." That's all I wanted to say, but he slipped an envelope into my hands as I walked away.

"Money from the fight, Devil's Lance! I kept it away from the rest and took a small portion for protecting it—not much, just a bit. I'll be seeing you soon, Devil Lance!" he called out as I continued walking.

'Devil's Lance, huh? As much as it disgusts me to be named after a different weapon, I guess it is quite apt, no? In any case, as you walk, you'll also want to find a place to stay. You've got enough—just find a love hotel; it'll be easier. Anyway, what happened during the fight is that you embraced the feeling—'

I cut Muramasa off. "That feeling! What was it exactly? No going in circles; I want the straight truth!"

'*Sigh* The feeling is the curse. When my creator cursed me for being used against him, I was cursed with insanity for all my wielders, which would consume them. During my peak, I had many wielders, and with them, I created what I have deemed the 'Blood River.' Every being that has fallen to me—whether children, women, men, animals, or even gods—their blood expanded the Blood River and, with it, shortened each wielder's time to use me.'

"I don't like where this is going," I mumbled to the empty streets in search of a love hotel