[Tokyo, Japan | The Nagayo Dome]
Standing in the booth, the sharply-dressed, blonde-haired announcer stood tall with his microphone close to his mouth.
"LET'S GET RIGHT INTO THE MAIN SHOWDOWN OF THE NIGHT! THIS MATCH WILL DECIDE THE NEW REIGNING CHAMPION OF THE "VALHALLA FIGHTING ORGANIZATION", FOLKS!"
As the announcer's words boomed, the audience of roughly twenty-thousand roared. Despite it being an underground tournament, a plentiful audience still showed up–that was simply the nature of this world so deeply ingrained with combat sports.
"COMING IN TO CHALLENGE THE CHAMPION IS THE MIDDLEWEIGHT CHAMPION OF THE M.F.C.! HE'S COMING IN FROM AMERICA–PLEASE GIVE APPLAUSE TO JASON MORELAND, "THE CYBORG BUTCHER"!"
The announcer held his hand out as the crowd went wild in applause with the spotlights honing down to the sand-laid fighting pit, giving light to the competitor that walked out of the arena.
A man with blonde hair with the sides of his head shaved down to a buzzcut walked out, covered in tribal tattoos, wearing yellow trunks and nothing else but his padded gloves.
Jason waved to the audience, strutting in confidently as he stood at his side of the arena.
Though once the announcer's next words came, the crowd's attention was immediately siphoned from the foreigner:
"AND DEFENDING HIS TITLE AT THE VALHALLA PIT IS THE REIGNING, THE DEFENDING, THE UNDEFEATED CHAMPION–GENTO RYOTO, "THE IMMACULATE"!"
Even more than with the American MMA champion, the audience went wild with the introduction to the champion of Valhalla with the lights dimming and the spotlights focusing on the opposing side of the arena.
Stepping in calmly was a man with snow-white locks, unkempt and wild, with calm, but imposing eyes of a crimson shade. He was just shy of two meters, with a similar build to the middleweight opponent of his, but his build was more on the lean side than the abundantly muscular Jason.
"--"
Gento was silent, looking on with an idle expression towards his opponent's general direction before he threw his robes off that were meant to maintain a high body temperature before the fight.
Beneath those all-black robes, he wore baggy, black pants and nothing else, bearing a pale complexion that accompanied the shade of his hair.
Jason tightened his gloves from the other side, focusing his hazel eyes on the champion of Valhalla.
Is my opponent terminally ill or something? Dude looks like a ghost…Jason thought.
Still, the foreign challenger was already sweating when looking at his opponent, finding it difficult to match that crimson gaze.
"--"
Jason maintained his breathing, raising his guard just as the announcer swiped his hand down–
"BEGIN!"
The moment the match began, the American MMA champion took the initiative–springing forward with a burst of speed that kicked up the sand in his wake.
I'll end this in an instant! Jason thought.
"Khh!"
–Instead of finding his burst of speed overtaking his opponent, the American challenger found his assault countered by a sharp knee straight to the chin, causing him to bite his tongue as blood squirted out between his clenched teeth.
"Impressive speed," Gento said calmly.
What the…? I didn't see him move at all–he was as still as a statue, then in the next moment–his knee had already hit me! Jason thought.
The high-knee was clearly something from "Muay Thai", the foreign challenger could recognize that much, and he hardly recognized what came next, as it came like a bolt of lightning to the side of his head–
The reigning champion of Valhalla spun around in midair swiftly as the American fighter swore he saw and heard strands of lightning coiling around the man's leg before the kick drove against his head with a roar of thunder.
BOOM.
As a result, the impact had cracked the sound barrier, sending the American challenger to Gento's title flying and tumbling across the sand.
In favor of the champion, the crowd went wild at the swift, merciless start to the bout.
"AS ALWAYS, THE CHAMPION IS AS SHARP AS EVER!" The announcer called out.
Jason had landed against the stone wall that stood several meters high, dividing the pit from the audience. From the force of the impact, it cracked as the American MMA fighter picked himself up, coughing up blood as he felt a burning sensation within his chest.
…Muay Thai, then Taekwondo? It was so fast…Who is this guy, anyway? Damn, my manager said this would be an easy penny, Jason thought.
"Alright…I'm not pulling any punches now," Jason smiled with blood staining his teeth.
The MMA fighter removed his gloves, cracking his knuckles that were abnormally large and chiseled.
"WHAT'S THIS? JASON MORELAND HAS REMOVED HIS GLOVES? WHAT ADVANTAGE WILL THAT BRING?!" The announcer asked.
It was a change that the champion of Valhalla recognized, not through being familiar with Jason Moreland himself, but seeing those unique knuckles he possessed.
I see. He likely has limited himself in his MMA matches. As a public fighter, he has to consider the safety of his opponents in the ring. Normal people would likely be killed by the full force of his punches–is that it, Jason? Gento thought calmly.
Jason smiled before bursting forward again with his speed that made him move far faster than the spectators' eyes could track.
…Sorry, guy. But, I can't hold out on you! Jason thought.
The Valhalla reigning champion held no stance, only watching his opponent with his crimson eyes as a flurry of bare knuckles came his way.
"D-DO YOU HEAR THAT, FOLKS?! THE WIND IS HISSING!" The announcer noted.
–It was the sharpness of Jason Moreland's blows; each strike he thrust forth had pierced through the wind like a lance.
Not only did he possess wicked firepower, but the American challenger was nimble and tricky with his movements, working in Capoeira for frantic movements to throw his opponent off.
THUD.
At last, Jason grinned as his knuckles connected with his opponent's cheek, releasing a resonating thud that sounded out.
Yes, I got him! Jason thought.
"Huh?"
The American challenger's celebration was cut short as he looked forward to see that though his punch had landed, it had no effect on his opponent.