"Begin!"
Carlisle's aura surged as Isaiah braced himself. The referee's hand dropped, and the fight was on.
Kaizen leaned forward, watching the battle from the audience seats with narrowed eyes. Before him, a small crystal ball pulsed faintly, resonating with the aura in the arena. As the match intensified, the crystal's absorption seemed to quicken.
This is faster than usual, Kaizen noted. He had observed this phenomenon before. It was one of the reasons he decided to attend the match in person today.
"Gyo!" Kaizen whispered under his breath, focusing aura into his eyes to sharpen his vision.
In the ring, something shifted beside Carlisle—a figure materialized out of thin air.
"There it is!" the announcer exclaimed, voice booming across the stadium. "Carlisle's puppet!"
"In his past matches, Carlisle's puppet has been the key to his victories. It boasts formidable defense and crushing strength! But how will it fare today?"
Kaizen's brow furrowed. The puppet felt… off.
It's strange, Kaizen thought. I can sense it even without Gyo. This ability doesn't feel like Transmutation. It doesn't fit Manipulation either.
He shifted his gaze toward Isaiah, standing just meters away from Carlisle. Isaiah's posture was tense but unwavering—Carlisle wouldn't be easy to bring down. Yet, rather than retreat, Isaiah launched himself forward, determined to engage Carlisle directly.
He's going to bypass the puppet and get to Carlisle, Kaizen realized.
Carlisle seemed to anticipate the move. The announcer's voice rang out again:
"Isaiah's aiming for his signature submission technique! When it comes to grappling, Isaiah is unmatched! Once he catches his opponent, it's over. That iconic grin will follow—if he gets the chance."
Kaizen watched the exchange closely.
"In terms of raw strength, Carlisle has the upper hand," Kaizen murmured to himself. "But between him and the puppet, he's channeling aura like an Emitter. Emitters are vulnerable in close combat. Isaiah still has a shot."
Kaizen leaned back, his interest waning. These two aren't particularly strong. Killer Queen could handle them without much effort.
Below, the fighters collided, each giving their all. The referee tracked their exchanges, awarding points as the rules demanded. Unlike life-or-death battles, matches in Heavens Arena were governed by a scoring system:
A solid hit earned 1 point.
A critical attack earned 2 points.
Knocking the opponent down triggered a countdown—worth 1 point if they failed to recover in time.
Victory required ten points, and Carlisle had a clear advantage. His puppet's durability meant Isaiah wouldn't score even if he landed hits on it. As the rounds wore on, both fighters grew visibly exhausted, panting heavily.
Isaiah's eyes darkened with frustration. I can't lose this match…
But Carlisle, just as determined, wasn't giving in either.
Isaiah gritted his teeth. One last chance. If I can't reach him, I'll have to destroy that puppet first. Then, I can take Carlisle down!
With a guttural roar, Isaiah launched himself again. But once more, Carlisle evaded him, and Isaiah found no opening. Desperate, Isaiah shifted his strategy.
He lunged at the puppet instead, wrapping himself around it in a vice-like grip. His body twisted and coiled like a serpent, squeezing tighter and tighter.
"There it is!" the announcer cried. "Isaiah's strangulation technique!"
"This move has forced many of his opponents to surrender. No one escapes once Isaiah has them in his grasp. But this time, he's using it on Carlisle's puppet instead!"
Kaizen's eyes narrowed. This doesn't fit. Isaiah doesn't feel like an Enhancer—there's something off here. Could it be that Isaiah is trying to master the wrong Nen category?
In the ring, Carlisle grinned.
"Break it."
With a thunderous crack, the puppet unleashed a devastating burst of power, shattering Isaiah's hold. The crowd erupted into cheers.
"The winner—Carlisle!"
The stadium roared as the referee declared the result. Kaizen grimaced and covered his ears. These fans are way too enthusiastic.
As the crowd surged around him, Kaizen slipped out of the arena, weaving through the throng of spectators. In the ring, Isaiah remained on the ground, staring blankly at the ceiling, his body still and his spirit crushed. It's over.
After what felt like an eternity, Isaiah stirred. His gaze wandered aimlessly, only to land on Kaizen, who was walking toward the exit. Then, Carlisle jogged over and exchanged a casual greeting with Kaizen.
In Isaiah's eyes, the sight was blindingly painful. His thoughts spiraled.
"Kaizen…" Isaiah muttered, voice shaking with rage. "It's all because of you."
"Why didn't you fight instead of watching?"
"You… you're with Carlisle, aren't you? Both of you are against me!"
Isaiah clenched his fists. I've lost everything—my match, my honor, my place in Heavens Arena. His qualification for the 200th floor was revoked, and the deluxe room he had fought so hard for was taken away. Now, all he had were his belongings, hastily packed into a duffle bag, and the cold sting of failure.
He trudged toward the exit, the weight of defeat heavy on his shoulders. But as he reached the city streets, he paused. A grim determination settled in his heart.
Before I leave this place… I'll do one last thing
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