In a fight, winning is crucial, and that's something everyone has in mind. However, the organizers of this tournament are not interested in quick matches, as frequent fast-paced bouts can become boring for them.
That's what Dash had in mind during his first fight, which is why he was putting on a good show.
Thud! Thud!
While his palms clashed with Saelim Somchai's kicks, Saelim exaggerated his movements, making them more dramatic than they should be.
Under the watchful eyes of the crowd, the two figures in the arena, now the only ones still fighting, continued to exchange brutal blows as they moved. The blood on Saelim Somchai's face added excitement to the fight, as everyone knew this fighter was about to lose but still wanted to see how it would happen.
"Thinking that a fifteen-year-old kid can fight at that level..."
While others focused on the fight, in a VIP room, a man named Jack Duquesne received Dash Hale's data, which immediately stood out in the fourth round.
"About a hundred official fights, and he's won them all, fighting since he was eleven, showcasing his high combat ability. On second thought, this could be the fighter to bet on..."
Jack looked at the tablet with the data and shook his head. "He's too young. Is there anything specific he's fighting for?"
"Besides money?"
Jack furrowed his brow and asked, "Who among those fighting here isn't fighting for money, you damn piece of shit?"
The nervous assistant adjusted his voice and said, "Apart from money, he's fighting here to find out if someone can defeat him."
"Is that recorded?" Jack raised an eyebrow, quite intrigued by Dash, who, though not in his focus, was attractive enough for a bet in the auction and to take under his wing.
"He's toying with Saelim Somchai; that fight should have ended minutes ago..."
Thud! Thud! Thud!
As Dash moved around the arena, Saelim Somchai's expression darkened. He had never expected his first opponent to be someone so young and extremely strong. What was even more terrifying was that now he couldn't feel the sensation of his limbs as Dash attacked.
"It's just luck, it must be!"
This discovery made Saelim Somchai fearful. Now, he couldn't win this fight using his martial arts, so he took a sudden step forward. His body was about to make contact with Dash's to take him down. However, at that moment, Dash's palms changed from open to closed.
"This is the end..."
Dash, who had perfectly read Saelim Somchai's intentions, struck his stomach forcefully and, with a quick takedown, struck his forehead forcefully.
"Winner!"
The referee, who saw Saelim Somchai, stepped forward and separated Dash from him. It was well known that adrenaline turned people into monsters who couldn't stop once a fight began, so he had to intervene.
But at this moment, Dash was different because he wasn't agitated. His gaze was clear, and after seeing his opponent lying on the ground, he returned to Santiago.
"That was fabulous; you tore him apart!" Santiago, who was jotting down details in his small notebook, congratulated Dash and then asked, "Did you get hurt?"
Dash shook his head and said, "Avoided injuries, but the hits will leave me a bit sore. Is there time between fights?"
"You have a day for recovery, not much, but it'll be enough for the next fight."
As the fights become fewer, the privileges increase. Each sponsor will be interested in having their fighter in the best condition. That's why they will be given time.
What Dash discovered is that if someone interesting notices his skills, he didn't exactly know how it worked, but with a good sponsor, he would gain more incredible things.
Watching the last fights, Dash couldn't say much about this because there were so many that, in the end, he got bored.
He didn't know if his purpose, besides making money, was still real, but he did want to know if there would be a defeat for him here. It wasn't a matter of doubt, but as he grew stronger, the chances of losing diminished.
He couldn't go all out in the All Valley fights. National tournaments weren't in his field of vision yet, so only foreign tournaments remained, and every time he had one, he had to bother his parents.
He still didn't have the privilege of traveling alone due to his age, but that would change when he turned seventeen, and it was only a matter of time.
As the last fights concluded, the losers left with a few dollars, while the winners were taken to the VIP rooms.