"What's going on with Boulderthorn? Why would they send that chunkster on
stage? With his physique, he'll be out of breath after taking just a few
steps–can he even handle the Battle Royale?" Quentin scoffed.
"Don't underestimate the opponent. Since Boulderthom dares send him into
the ring, he must have some extraordinary qualities that could potentiall
y push the tide in their favor. Which one of you wants to go first?"
Natasha asked the three of them.
"Ms. Harmon, let me handle the first round." Stephan stood and strode int
o the battle ring.
Among the three of them, his strength
appeared to be the weakest. Because of that, it was only natural that he
took the lead. After all, if he could secure their victory in the first m
atch, he might as well have laid the foundation for their eventual win,
"Dustin, who do you think would win? Ruth asked curiously.
"It's hard to tell. The chunkster looks peculiar enough, but if Mr. Chapm
an can find his weaknesses and attack. focally, he might still stand a ch
ance." Dustin analyzed.
"Hmph! That's so close–
minded!" Quentin pursed his lips. "What right does he have to fight again
st Mr. Chapman? A few rounds of simply running around, and
he'll be as good as dead!"
Dustin did not argue against that. Instead, he fixed his gaze on the batt
le ring, seemingly deep in thought.
Meanwhile, in the battle ring, both parties prepared themselves as the re
feree mounted the stage.
"There are no rules in this ring. Live or die–
that's on you. Surrendering, severe injuries, death, or being thrown out
of the ring will result in a loss of said round. Do the both of you under
stand?"
The referee threw his hands down
as soon as the two contestants nodded.
"Let the games begin!"
With a frenzied shout, the atmosphere around the ring instantly surged to
a new peak.
"I've long heard about the many talents cultivated under the lead of Mr.
Williams. I'm honored to be able to
witness them with my own eyes today!"
After a firm salute, Stephan took a step forward and launched his first a
ttack.
The strategy he elected was to take control of the fight and exhaust his
opponent. As the man's physique was beyond massive, his strength was appa
rent. Direct attacks were not a smart option if he wanted to last in the
ring.
To be on the safe side, he had to fully leverage the advantages of his li
ghtweight body and the subsequent agileness it inevitably brought him.
Stephan inched closer toward his opponent but did not launch a frontal at
tack. Instead, he rounded to t back of the chunkster and slapped him on t
he back.
The
A crisp slap rang out, but the chunkster stood unmoving. Throughout his b
ody, his flesh rippled and trembled shudderingly. The force brought down
by Stephan's palm had been completely dissipated by the violent
shudders of flesh, leaving the man completely unaffected by its magnitude
.
"So, this is what it is then?" Stephan's gaze narrowed, but he didn't sto
p. He delivered two more sharp,
consecutive slaps–
one to the chunkster's waist, the other to his back. Both of them landed
on spots that
should've been vulnerable had it not been for the protection of his volum
inous flesh and body fat that shielded
him from even remotely sensing the impact of Stephan's punches.
Contrary to what Stephan expected, his opponent paid
him no heed despite his efforts to garner his attention. From the start,
he simply chewed on the roasted mutton leg he held in one hand, completel
y disregarding Stephan's presence.
Stephan was beginning to get mad. His palms transformed into brutal fists
that pounded wildly from top to bottom in rapid succession. The series o
f punches
he launched after that was almost crazed and merciless. and yet the chunk
ster continued devouring the mutton leg with the fervor of a famished man
.
Stephan's pride, having suffered the fall it did, transmuted into wild fu
ry. As his rage suffused him, he delivered
a swift kick to the mutton in the
chunkster's hands and watched with satisfaction as the man turned to him.
stunned at first.
Then, a roar followed as he charged toward Stephan with astonishing speed
, his actions reminiscent of a
distraught bear.
A moment of carelessness had him colliding head–
on with the chunkster's advance–his body air–bound the
next moment and his gut churning.
Midair, the chunkster's head struck him squarely in the chest, sending hi
m flying even further, a mouthful of bright–
red blood spilling from his lips.
Before he knew it, he was already on the ground, thrown out of the battle
ring before he'd even gotten the
chance to retaliate.