"It's ridiculous! Right? I mean, it's been like fifteen years and this guy is still acting like we're highschoolers–he should just grow up," Michael sighed.
He looked up at the American karateka with a raised eyebrow, but didn't say anything in response.
…I think they're both in the same boat, he thought.
"Ah, I forgot to properly introduce myself–sorry about that," Michael extended his hand with a smile, "I'm Michael Larusso, the sensei of Shizukana-Do."
"Touma Daigo," he accepted the man's hand.
It was a much kinder shake, in comparison to the vice grip that Martin displayed just a couple minutes prior.
"Shizukana-Do"? That sounds familiar…He thought.
"Well, good luck out there," Michael said with a smile.
"Yeah, you too."
After the encounter with the two American karateka rivals, he looked around to find some competitors warming up, so he decided to do the same.
Taking a page out of Chimon's page, he did some light shadow boxing to stay warm and ready.
The matches will begin in a bit. We don't know the order or anything…I wonder if they're trying to keep us tense? He thought.
Boxing the air with sharp breaths, he opted to warm-up with boxing moves so as not to give away his style before the matches even began.
"They really invited weak sauce like you here? Hah! I thought the Celestial Fist is where the strongest gathered–what a joke."
He stopped as he looked over across the room to see where the source of the rough, berating words came from.
A man with shaggy, black hair and a scruffy beard, dressed in a sleeveless top with cargo shorts and flip flops looked down at a scrawny, glasses-wearing man on the bench.
"Do you have a problem?" The man with glasses asked.
The scrawny, green-haired man on the bench wore a jumpsuit that matched his hair, looking up at the burly, abrasive man who looked down at him.
"My problem is worms like you crawling into the pits where true warriors duke it out. I can see your hands quivering and shaking; are you mad or just about to piss yourself?" The shaggy-haired man taunted him.
"--"
The man with glasses turned away, "If you bark so loud, nobody will take your bite seriously."
Just as the skinny man on the receiving end of the other competitor's scathing words had turned the other way, a front kick was launched towards the back of his head.
"Huh?" The mannerless man raised an eyebrow.
Stopping his foot with one hand was the silver-haired young man with golden eyes, looking towards him with a smile.
The impact of the kick unleashed a wave of wind, brushing his silver locks as he stood there with a small smile.
"Save it for the matches," he told the man.
Many fighters watched the scene transpire, but nobody stepped in besides himself. It wasn't surprising; fighting was something they all were attached to the hip to.
"Tch," the man withdrew his foot, "That's good enough for me. I'll squash any bugs that crawl near my feet either way."
As the man left, he looked back towards the scrawny competitor who nearly had his head blasted by the kick.
"Thanks," the scrawny competitor told him, "I'm Hyuk-Jae."
"Touma Daigo," he introduced himself in return.
They both looked towards the tan-skinned, rough aggressor who was walking away with a look of no-good wrapped across his expression.
"Be careful. People like that will prey on any sign of weakness you show them," he said.
"Thanks, but I'll manage," Hyuk-Jae told him.
The two sat together, though the green-haired man seemed few of words, but he wasn't unkind, just simply a more "to himself" personality.
"Do you know that guy?" He asked.
"Not at all. All I did was make eye contact with him, and he decided to bear his fangs at me, I suppose," Hyuk-Jae sighed, "I wished for a more respectful setting."
"Yeah?"
"A tournament in which the strongest around the world gather, exchanging their ancient techniques and vibrant histories…Such a place is the dream of any martial artist," Hyuk-Jae said.
He looked at the man for a moment before looking around the room. For the majority of it, it seemed most competitors were respectful and to themselves.
"I feel the same way," he told Hyuk-Jae, "I think we'll find that here."
"You're more optimistic than me," Hyuk-Jae responded.
As Hyuk-Jae looked at him, he was surprised to see a fist held close to him, waiting to be bumped.
"How about we meet up for a grand match during the real deal, then?" He said.
"--"
Hyuk-Jae paused for a moment, cautiously bumping his knuckles against his own with a slight smile, "If you can make it that far."
"Don't worry about me," he smirked.
It was no later that the music from the stadium began to play grandiose sounds, welcoming the roars of the crowd as the announcer could be heard from the center of the stadium itself.
[Alright, alright! Let's get the Celestial Fist Qualifiers underway!]
The arena was luxurious; lights shined down on the fighting arena in the center–a spacious platform with black ropes similar to a boxing ring, but much larger in scope. The stands were a dark hue of blue, paired with the black walls that accentured the dazzle of the light that shined down solely on the arena itself.
Sitting high above the audience were lavish rooms behind glass, exclusive to the rich sponsors and members of the Celestial Fist.
"Yusei Ito!!!"
What drew a lot of the crowd's attention was the judge booth at the side that also served as another layer of security – the Overseers' station near the fighting arena itself.
"Heh," Yusei laughed, waving to those in the crowd.
Beside him, a colleague dressed in the same, sharp black suit with the skull-tattoo etched onto the back of his hand adjusted his box-rimmed glasses. His hair was combed over with a verdant shade, yet a cowlick stood out.
"It's always far too noisy with you around, Yusei."
[Myung-Hwan | "The Radiant Destroyer"]
Standing between them was a man with his feet kicked up on the table, leaning back in his seat with his silver-purple hair.
"Ha-ha, it's not Yusei's fault. "The Supernova"--with an epithet like that, of course he's going to be flashy."
[Adamas | "The King"]
Myung-Hwan looked to the side at the man with silken, silver hair with purple accents in it at the right angle, "...You're the worst of it, Adamas."
"Yeah, if I attract attention, then you bring something else entirely," Yusei smiled.
Adamas smiled, "Oh?"
For the Qualifiers, it was just those three Overseers that sat as judges and security both, watching from the side.
[For our first round! Hyuk-Jae, hailing from South Korea! Come on down! His opponent: Baskoro, coming from the Philippines!]