Alex felt the eyes before he saw the man.
It happened during an arena spar—another low-stakes bout, another opponent who relied too much on brute reinforcement and not enough on balance. Alex ended it the same way he always did: a step inside the swing, a twist of the hip, a precise shove that turned strength into empty air.
The opponent hit the dirt.
Yielded.
The crowd groaned, already bored.
Alex stepped back, breathing steady—and that was when the sensation crawled up his spine.
Not danger.
Assessment.
He didn't look immediately. He finished the ritual: bow to the pit judge, collect his coin, wipe dust from his hands. Only then did he let his gaze drift.
The man stood apart from the others.
Older. Late fifties, maybe. Broad shoulders gone slightly soft, posture relaxed in the way of someone who no longer needed to prove anything. His hair was iron-gray, cut short, and his left arm ended at the elbow—cleanly, deliberately.
The man met Alex's eyes.
Didn't smile.
Didn't nod.
Just watched.
Alex felt a faint tightening in his chest.
{Attention flagged.}
"I know," Alex murmured.
(He is not weak,) Chaos said.
"I noticed."
The veteran turned and walked away.
Alex hesitated only a second before following.
They passed through the back corridors of the arena, away from noise and betting tables, into a narrow stone alley that smelled of oil and old rain. The man stopped beneath a faded sigil carved into the wall—some forgotten unit crest, worn nearly smooth.
"Close enough," the man said.
Alex stopped three steps away.
Silence stretched.
Then the man spoke again, voice calm, unhurried.
"You're lying about your rank."
Alex didn't react.
Didn't deny it.
Didn't confirm it.
He simply waited.
The man glanced at him sideways. "No panic. No flare. Good."
"People lie about ranks all the time," Alex said evenly. "Usually the other way."
The man snorted. "Yes. And they do it badly."
He turned fully now, studying Alex like a weapon laid out on a table.
"You don't move like an F-rank," he continued. "Not even a clever one."
Alex tilted his head slightly. "Then what do I move like?"
The man's gaze sharpened.
"Like someone who survived something that wanted you dead."
The words landed cleanly.
No accusation.
No threat.
Just a statement.
Alex felt Chaos stir.
(He sees too much.)
"Maybe I'm just careful," Alex said.
The man chuckled. "Careful is hesitation. You don't hesitate."
He tapped his own chest lightly with two fingers. "Your balance resets instantly. Your breathing never spikes. You disengage the moment the fight is decided."
Alex said nothing.
The man looked at Alex's hands.
"No kill intent," he added. "That's the strange part. Most survivors go the other way."
"Maybe I got tired of burying people," Alex replied.
That earned a real smile.
"Name's Garron," the man said. "Used to be Rank B. Border wars. Suppression campaigns. Lost the arm before I learned when to stop."
Alex inclined his head. "Alex."
Garron raised an eyebrow. "Just Alex?"
"Yes."
"Hm." Garron shrugged. "Works."
They stood in silence again. Then Garron spoke, more quietly.
"I'm not going to expose you."
Alex's muscles loosened—just a fraction.
"Why?"
"Because if I'm wrong," Garron said, "you're just a talented kid trying to survive. And if I'm right…"
He looked Alex in the eye.
"…then someone already tried to erase you once."
Alex felt something cold settle in his gut.
Garron leaned back against the wall. "Either way, it's not my business."
Alex considered him.
"What is your business?" Alex asked.
Garron's gaze flicked briefly to the arena entrance, then back.
"Teaching people not to die stupidly," he said. "I'm retired. Bored. And you're wasting precision on coin fights."
Alex didn't answer immediately.
The system spoke, neutral and observant.
{Threat level: Moderate.}
{Intent analysis: Non-hostile.}
(He is dangerous,) Chaos added. (But not predatory.)
Alex exhaled slowly.
"You want something," Alex said.
"Yes," Garron replied easily. "I want to see how far you can go without killing yourself."
"And the price?"
Garron smiled thinly.
"No questions," he said. "No explanations. No names beyond what you give me."
Alex's eyes narrowed. "Conditional mentorship."
"Exactly."
Alex thought of the chains.
The sealed memories.
The year that hurt without remembering why.
He thought of control.
Of timing.
Of staying alive long enough to choose.
"What do you teach?" Alex asked.
Garron tapped his temple. "Positioning. Pressure. When not to fight."
Alex almost laughed.
"That's all I do."
"Good," Garron said. "Then we'll refine it."
Silence again.
Alex weighed the risks.
Visibility increased.
But so did efficiency.
And Garron wasn't asking for power.
He was asking for restraint.
"I accept," Alex said.
Garron nodded once, satisfied.
"Tomorrow," he said. "Dawn. Old quarry east of town."
He turned to leave, then paused.
"One more thing."
Alex waited.
"If I ever think you're about to get yourself killed," Garron said, "I walk away. No warning."
"That's fair," Alex replied.
Garron hesitated, then added quietly, "And if I ever think you're about to kill someone who doesn't deserve it… I stop you."
Alex met his gaze.
"Also fair."
Garron left.
Alex remained in the alley for a moment, listening to the sounds of the city bleed back in.
"Well," Alex said softly. "That happened."
{Mentorship flag detected.}
"Don't sound excited."
{Clarification: Interest noted.}
Chaos stirred, amused.
(You attract survivors.)
Alex smirked faintly. "Better than attractors."
He left the arena and walked back toward his lodging, thoughts already reorganizing.
Training would change now.
Not more power.
Better application.
Fewer mistakes.
As he walked, the system spoke again.
{Long-term survivability increased.}
Alex nodded.
"Good."
For the first time since exile, since chains and silence and running—
Someone had seen him.
And chosen not to use that knowledge as a weapon.
That made Garron dangerous.
And invaluable.
Alex slept lightly that night.
At dawn, he would begin learning how to survive properly.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Man writing a chapter is long is my writing style good or should I change it let me know