On Bak 3 -

Garland watched, unimpressed. “You still don’t understand. The elephant is already broken.”

Their fight lasted fifteen minutes. Kham dislocated his own shoulder to escape a lock, then reset it against a wall with a scream. He used the environment—pipes, broken glass, even a burning torch—to finally shatter The Tombstone’s iron will. When the giant fell, the crowd fell silent.

“You can’t save the elephant,” Garland sneered, watching Kham from a balcony as chains rattled below. “You can barely save yourself.” on bak 3

But Garland had planned for this. He released his true masterpiece: a towering, silent fighter known only as “The Tombstone,” whose body was scarred from years of experimental combat drugs. No pain. No fear. Just programmed destruction.

Kham didn’t think. He ran. Not toward Garland—toward the switch. He grabbed it, snapped the lever off, then turned to face the man who had orchestrated this nightmare. Garland watched, unimpressed

Kham stood over him, bleeding, barely breathing. Then he turned, walked to Kohrn, and unchained her with shaking hands. The elephant nuzzled his face, gentle as morning rain.

The trail led Kham to a underground fighting ring hidden beneath the city’s neon glow. There, fighters from every brutal discipline clashed for the amusement of crime lords. And at the center of it all stood Garland, a disgraced former Muay Thai champion who now orchestrated these bloody spectacles. Garland had lost his soul to greed, and Kohrn was to be his ultimate weapon—trained to fight humans in an unspeakable arena. Kham dislocated his own shoulder to escape a

Behind them, the warehouse burned—taking Garland’s empire with it.