Saint lies in his backyard, chest heaving, sweat glistening on his skin.
'I can't move anymore… using Mana is exhausting…'
Carmelo returns outside with Brugger.
"Hey, shithead, the tournament's already started," Brugger says, annoyance clear.
Saint glances at him.
'Shit! I forgot the deadline…'
He laughs awkwardly. "Just a minute… I need a breather." He pushes himself upright.
Brugger clenches his jaw, annoyed. Carmelo shrugs proudly.
"He seems different now. What did you do?" Brugger asks.
"Why spoil the fun? He'll show you soon enough… You record the matches, right? Bring me a copy once he wins the trophy." Carmelo says confidently, leaning against the wall.
Brugger chuckles.
…
Back at Sangre De Reyes, Beyce and Kevo resume their fight. Beyce refuses to give up.
'How can I beat him? Look for an opening… an opening… an opening…'
Kevo bursts toward him, faster than the eye can track, hammering him with precise hits. Each punch lands on a vital point, harder than the last.
"This is brutal to watch…" Ari mutters, eyes fixed on the battle.
Beyce is thrown around relentlessly, barely defending, let alone retaliating. The crowd murmurs nervously, punctuated by gasps. Beyce yells in pain with every strike.
After what seems like a final blow, Beyce looks defeated. Kevo puts his hoodie back on and starts walking away. Beretta teleports to Beyce.
"This match has been concluded, winn-"
Beyce rises.
"I'm never going down," he says, broken and determined.
'This guy… Did he…?'
Beretta thinks.
'Seems like there are more geniuses than we thought…' Oshoku muses.
'I bet he's got this in the bag now…' Ari thinks.
"How are you still-?" Kevo asks, confused.
Beyce's Mana explodes, breaking his limiter, green energy swirling around him. His eyes glow the same vibrant green.
'This power… I can beat him…!'
Beyce blitzes at Kevo, who barely dodges limbo-style. Kevo traps Beyce's arm in a flying arm bar, but Beyce slams him to the floor, grabs his hood, and yanks him into the air.
Beyce leaps, meeting Kevo midair, landing an uppercut, then appears behind him for a double axe, sending Kevo crashing down.
'No use not going all out anymore…' Kevo thinks.
"Thunder Style: Shida's Storm."
Beretta's eyes widen.
'Kevo has two abilities, meaning he's broken his limiter twice already?!'
Kevo's body crackles purple, electricity dancing across him, tearing at the arena floor.
Beyce is still in the air, fist glowing with concentrated green Mana.
'I just have to hit him… really, HARD!' Beyce thinks,
"Enhance Style: Wolf's Impact."
Kevo leaps to meet Beyce in midair. The two collide, powers clashing in a massive shockwave. Smoke and dust swallow half the arena, rubble flying everywhere.
"Brilliant, Beyce!" Ari cheers, excitement sparkling in his voice.
As the smoke clears, Beyce and Kevo plummet from the sky. Kevo lower than Beyce, slightly unconscious.
'I… I did it…' Beyce breathes, relief flooding him.
Suddenly, Kevo awakens midair, fist clenched.
A lightning bolt slams into Beyce's back, tearing him to the ground faster than Kevo.
Beretta rushes over, checking Beyce's pulse.
"Winner: Kevo!"
The crowd erupts. Ari leans back in his chair.
"Tch… I lost my bet…."
'You did great though, Beyce…' Ari thinks.
Girls behind Ari giggle.
"Even though he lost, he was still really cool, wasn't he?"
Kevo, bruised, limps to the medic room. A team of medics carry Beyce inside.
Beretta clears his throat.
"We're taking a break. Everyone, return to your seats in fifteen minutes while we rebuild the arena. Thank you."
The crowd disperses. Ari leaves, hands in pockets, and bumps into Plaster.
"Yo! You nervous?" Ari asks, smiling innocently.
"Don't piss me off, Ari," Plaster says, shoulder-bumping him, then continues walking.
…
In the medic room, Saint just arrived, he watches over Beyce. He lies unconscious, respirator attached, pulse low.
'Beyce lost… against that Kevo guy…'
Saint glances across the room, Kevo holds an ice pack to his shoulder, slightly bruised.
'At least he put up a fight…'
Fifteen minutes later, the arena is rebuilt, ready again. Beretta steps to the center.
"All right, everyone, time for the next match. Participants, please step inside."
The big screen randomly stops at:
Plaster #3886 (B22) VS Ari #4001 (B22)
Ari rises from his slouched seat. Plaster jumps directly from the stands, landing in the arena.
"Nothing personal, right, Plaster?" Ari stretches.
"Just a friendly spar."
Plaster cracks his knuckles, a faint grin on his face.
"Whatever you say."
Beretta raises a hand.
"Begin!"
Ari forms a hand sign instantly.
"Scorpion Style: Viper Pulse."
Purple mana ignites around his fists. Plaster's eyes widen but quickly narrow, regaining composure.
"Heh… let's go."
…