"Did you hear a rookie fighter from District Nine is going to fight today?" A young woman asked her friend.
"What do you expect?" She responded, taking a sip from her win as she swayed her waist to the blaring of music. "It just a clown trying to prove his worth"
Inside the colossal building, an explosive fusion of sound and scent assaulted the senses.
The air vibrated with a symphony of pounding bass and pulsating beats, reverberating off the walls and merging with the ecstatic cries of the crowd.
It was a cacophony of excitement and anticipation, drawing people from all walks of life into the heart of this urban playground.
The interior was a bustling hive of activity, teeming with a kaleidoscope of humanity.
Streams of bodies swayed to the rhythm, their movements as varied as the eclectic mix of music blaring from towering speakers.
The room throbbed with an intoxicating energy, fueled by the relentless beat that coursed through the veins of the edifice.
The unmistakable scent of alcohol wafted through the air, clinging to every nook and cranny of the building.
It mingled with the perspiration of the revelers, creating an intoxicating cocktail that infused the atmosphere.
The stench became part of the fabric, interwoven with the exhilaration and wild abandon that permeated the space.
Amidst this vibrant tapestry of sights, sounds, and smells, a single entity dominated the center stage.
The robot boxing ring, a technological marvel, stood as the epicenter of attention and awe.
Its circular shape gleamed under the pulsating lights, encapsulated within transparent walls that offered an unobstructed view of the impending clash.
The surrounding throng pressed against the barriers, their eyes fixed upon the heart-pounding spectacle unfolding before them.
The towering screens that encircled the ring displayed holographic projections of the previous robot fights and their mechanical forms rendered larger than life.
"Are you excited for the next match?" A young man in his early thirties screamed into the mic.
The young man in his early thirties exuded an air of effortless style with his casual attire.
He wore a slim-fitting, well-worn pair of dark blue jeans, cuffed at the ankles, revealing a glimpse of stylish sneakers.
His crisp, white cotton shirt, unbuttoned at the collar, hinted at a relaxed demeanor.
A fitted gray jacket completed the ensemble, adding a touch of sophistication to his look. His hair, neatly tousled, gave off an aura of nonchalant charm.
A leather wristband and a simple silver necklace adorned his wrist and neck, adding subtle yet distinctive accents to his overall appearance.
Seeing the appearance of Ethan on the stage, the young girls screamed his name.
Ethan had a proud smile on his face when he heard the continuous screaming of his name.
He was a small celebrity in the underworld, known for his charisma and connection.
Even though Ethan was enjoying the scream of his name. He didn't dare delay the next match.
"Without further ado, let's invite our friend from district nine to test how deep the water of our district is."
When the audience heard District Nine, a wave of derisive laughter rippled through the crowd.
The laughter carried a sharp edge, laced with disdain and mockery as if the mere mention of District Nine evoked a collective sentiment of superiority.
It was a cruel irony that even District Eight, the district from which the majority of the audience hailed, looked down upon District Nine.
The residents of District Eight, wrapped in their comfortable lives, reveled in the knowledge that they resided in a more affluent part of town, a stark contrast to the perceived destitution of District Nine.
Even though they live a better life than those from District Nine. It was only a tad bit better.
Nevertheless, they didn't care. As long as they could show their sense of superiority to the slum of the town, they won't miss the chance.
Thus, the laughter persisted, accompanied by sneering whispers and condescending glances exchanged among the attendees.
They reveled in their own sense of superiority, basking in the presumed superiority of their own district.
For them, District Nine was an easy target, a symbol of social inferiority, and an object of ridicule.
In a special area reserved for the fighters. Pablo and the others could hear the ridicule of the people.
Bella and Isadora were a bit affected by the scornful gaze but Pablo didn't care. He was here to prove himself and pave his path of invincibility.
Thus, this ridicule was nothing.
"Are you ok?" Isadora asked, her voice laced with concern.
"Don't worry, they won't be able to laugh very soon." He responded calmly as he controlled the blue and red robot to enter the stage.
"What the hell is that?!"
"Why is it so ugly?"
"Gush! I can't believe they are so poor that they can't afford a common robot."
"As expected of District Nine."
Ethan looked at the clumsy ugly robot with the corner of his lisp raised in disdain.
Since he became the anchor of this underground ring. He had never seen such an ugly robot in his life.
If not for the order from the top. He would have sent them back to the slum whence they came from.
Standing inside the ring without any display of power. The ugly robot waits patiently for his opponent.
Seeing this, Ethan took a breath and put on a forceful smile.
"As you can see. The Invincible Team from District Nine." He pointed to Pablo and his robot.
Hearing the continuous ridicule and snaring from the audience. Ethan couldn't wait to leave the ring.
"Let's welcome one of our own. Titanium Terror!!" Ethan shouted, his voice raised several octaves filled with pride.
Titanium Terror is a formidable robot boxer that strikes fear into the hearts of its opponents.
Standing at an imposing height of 8 feet and weighing over a ton, Titanium Terror is a marvel of engineering and raw power.
Its entire exterior is crafted from reinforced titanium alloy, providing exceptional durability and resistance to damage.
The design of Titanium Terror showcases a perfect blend of sleek aesthetics and ruthless functionality.
Its streamlined body is adorned with menacing red accents and glowing LED lights, enhancing its intimidating presence in the ring.
The robot's limbs are robust and muscular, capable of delivering devastating blows and swift movements.
Cheers and excitement echoed from the audience as they watched their own robot match into the ring with pride.
The young man controlling Titanium Terror looked at Pablo and his team with a scornful gaze before he went to this corner.
"Walter! Beat the hell out of them!" A lady screamed from the audience.
Hearing this, Walter raised his head and looked at the voice direction, and smiled.
Even though he didn't respond to the lady, anyone seeing his smile would know what was going on in his mind.
Thus, some people couldn't help but feel sorry for the clumsy ugly robot.
"This is the Crusher Den."
"A fight to crush your opponent until nothing is left. A fight with no mercy."
"District Nine watch and learn from your superior"
"Fight!" Ethan shouted.
******
This is the second chapter of the weekly goal. (2/2)
Can't wait for next week's goal. :D