One kick—it was all it took for Donovan to put Max to sleep. The cheers and applause erupted once more.
Medical staff swiftly entered the ring with a stretcher, carrying the unconscious Max out to a mix of sympathetic murmurs and awestruck whispers.
The announcer stepped up once again. "And now, our next contender—Hiro Takton!" The second participant's name was announced.
Hiro stepped into the ring with a swagger that spoke of defiance. Unlike Max, he didn't bow to Capo dei Capi. His dark eyes stayed fixed on Donovan's dark grey eyes. The desire for blood was clearly visible on his face. He revealed his irregularly shaped teeth while hissing at Donovan.
In response, Donovan merely watched him like a lion eyeing a weak gazelle.
To Hiro, it was an opportunity to carve his name into the annals of infamy, to establish himself as the man who made Donovan Magnum bleed. The payoff would be immense—not just in reputation but in cold, hard cash.
The referee raised his whistle, the shrill sound signalling the start of the match.
This time, the crowd didn't cheer or scream. They remained still, leaning in with eagerness, their energy concentrated entirely on the ring.
They knew Hiro's reputation for brutality. They'd seen his fights and his love for making opponents bleed, and they were eager to see how Donovan would counter a fighter who thrived on carnage.
Hiro, a trained boxer, wore red, loose shorts that hung just above his knees. But this wasn't a standard boxing match. This was bare-knuckle fighting. And Hiro came prepared, his fingers adorned with rings that ended in sharp, pointed edges—designed to cut flesh with every punch.
"You look scared, Donovan," Hiro taunted, circling Donovan with a predator's gait. "What's the matter? Are you afraid to get scratched on your pretty face?"
Donovan's eyes narrowed him the instant he had the audacity to refer to him as Donovan.
Hiro smirked at the lack of reaction. "You know, I've seen bigger men than you cry like babies when I'm done with them."
Still, Donovan said nothing, but his silence was more taunting him than any of his words could.
The first exchange came fast. Hiro threw a series of punches quickly, his fists moving fast. Donovan moved out of the way, stepped to the side, and blocked Hiro's attacks with such skill that Hiro's punches missed completely.
Whispers began to circulate among the crowd, their earlier silence shifting into a low buzz. Donovan was aware of the situation. The spectators craved some excitement. So he allowed Hiro to land a punch.
Hiro's fist connected with Donovan's arm while Donovan tried to block his attack. The sharp, pointed edges of the ring pricked Donovan's skin, and blood tripped. Hiro grinned, and he threw another punch, this time aiming for Donovan's face.
He caught Hiro's fist mid-air, his palm closing around Hiro's knuckles. The pointed rings bit into Donovan's skin, drawing blood that dripped from his palm onto the mat. For a moment, Hiro's grin widened as he was successful in drawing his blood.
Then Donovan's grip tightened, pressing his fists harder together. The grin vanished from Hiro's face, replaced by a shadow of doubt.
Donovan released Hiro's hand with ease, stepping back just enough to make his next move undetectable. And then he struck.
His punches came like a heavy storm—sudden and unpredictable for Hiro to counter.
Donovan didn't provide him an opportunity to counter. He continuously unleashed punches on Hiro, his ribs, stomach, and jaw. Donovan wasn't trying to incapacitate him just yet. He wanted him to suffer and experience every bit of his strength.
"You wanted blood, didn't you?" Donovan's voice was low, "I'll make sure you see plenty of yours."
The crowd burst into cheers, their previous hush giving way to a wave of exhilaration as Hiro stumbled, blood spilling from his nose and mouth. But Donovan was far from finished. He danced around Hiro, landing punches with surgical precision.
Hiro swung wildly, desperation creeping into his movements. But Donovan saw through him, his counters coming faster than Hiro could react.
Donovan threw a powerful uppercut that lifted Hiro off the mat and caused him to fall to the floor.
The Arena fell silent for a moment, the crowd holding its breath.
Then, as Hiro groaned, struggling to rise, the crowd roared to life, their chants of "Don! Don!" shaking the very foundation of the Arena.
Since early childhood, Donovan harboured a deep interest in learning various fighting styles. His journey began in India at the age of seven. For some years, he studied in India and immersed himself in Kalaripayattu, an ancient martial art form that originated all martial arts, before returning to France.
Under the guidance of a revered Kalaripayattu master, Donovan learned the techniques, which combined strikes, kicks, grappling, various weapon mastery, and an understanding of the body's pressure points, which can be used to heal, inflict pain, or incapacitate an opponent.
He spent many hours over the years perfecting his movements and combining physical strength with mental focus, improving his skills.
As he got older, Donovan wanted to expand his fighting abilities. He chose boxing, a tough but skilled sport that required a different type of strength and strategy.
And tonight, everyone witnessed the strength and skill that Donovan had cultivated over the years.
The third fighter dislocated his shoulders in an attempt to break Donovan's bones. The fourth and fifth fighters, who were adhering to the fight rules, were given an opportunity by Donovan to strike him before he made them lie flat on the mat.
During the final match, Kai's phone buzzed in his pocket. The name was 'Mr Sohn' flashing on the screen. Glancing around the Arena, he slipped away from the roaring crowd, stepping out onto the balcony where the cool night air greeted him. He answered without hesitation, his tone light but expectant.
"You're quick, Mr Sohn. No wonder Uncle Magnum swears by you," Kai remarked, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Alright, spill it. What've you got for me?"
On the other end of the line, Mr Sohn's voice was crisp and measured.
"Your words are too kind, Mr. Rothschild." A faint shuffling sound followed, likely Mr Sohn adjusting his glasses—a habit Kai had come to associate with moments of valuable intel.
"Ms Valentine has been located, and she's currently in Valtham City." Mr Sohn allowed Kai to absorb the information before he could provide further details.
As Mr Sohn expected, Kai was caught off guard. He hadn't anticipated that Liora would already be in Valtham City. He had been crafting plans to find a way to bring her to Valtham, yet fate seemed to have beaten him to it.
'Coincidence or fate?' he wondered. It felt as though the universe was aligning the pieces for Donovan. "Are you completely sure about this?" He wanted to confirm.
"Yes, Mr Rothschild," Mr. Sohn replied with certainty. "She enrolled in Quantum Future University. Her field of study is law. She is officially listed as a first-year student. A junior to you, in fact. Is there anything else you'd like me to verify?"
Kai's lips curved into a sly smile, though his mind raced. "No, that'll do for now. Excellent work, Mr Sohn. You've outdone yourself as always."
"It's my duty, Mr Rothschild."
Kai's voice softened slightly as he added, "Once we've secured the companies, consider yourself rewarded—with a year-long vacation. You've earned it."
Hanging up, Kai leaned against the balcony railing, his gaze drifting to the stars above.
"So, she's here!" He whispered to himself, a blend of surprise and anticipation carrying in his voice.
Inside the Arena, after the final fighter was taken away from the ring by stretcher, the audience cheered, "Don! Don! Don!" while Donovan basked in the immense admiration.
Logan skillfully removed the cork from the champagne bottle, triggering a spectacular shower of bubbly, sparkling liquid that flowed over the excited crowd.
The woman in a stylish black dress stepped back into the ring. Her gaze was on Donovan with admiration before surveying the crowd. Many had lost their bets, while a few celebrated their wins. Nevertheless, the audience didn't seem to care. They were thrilled to witness Donovan enter the ring for the first time and knockout opponents as if it were second nature to him.
"Congratulations, Capo dei Capi!" The women announced.
"Many placed their bets today, and we've made quite a haul." Her shiny white teeth sparkled under the white lights. However, there's a twist," she went on, her tone both playful and commanding. "Half of the profits we will be distributed among the five fortunate contestants selected previously."
She teased playfully. "How could our Capo dei Capi let these lucky winners chosen in the draw leave without a reward?"
Her announcement was greeted with applause and approval from the audience, and many hearts rose in respect for Donovan.
He stood at the centre of the ring, composed and authoritative, while the woman in the black dress stood by his side.
Rihana wasted no time. She sprinted toward the ring, her heels clicking against the floor, her confidence unwavering.
She encircled Donovan's neck with her arms, pulling him into a warm and possessive embrace. She didn't care that Donovan's damp body was soaking her expensive clothes with sweat. Her message was clear to every woman in Arena: find someone else. She was proclaiming her claim over Donovan.
After a brief embrace, Rihana loosened her hold around his neck, creating a small space between them while still keeping her arms around Donovan. Her light grey eyes were fixed on Donovan's.
"Kiss… Kiss… Kiss…"..." The word flew from every corner of the Arena. The audience erupted in a frenzy of excitement. Their energy filled the venue as their voices came together in a strong and rhythmic chant.
Donovan stood still, a faint frown flickering across his features. He didn't move closer but didn't step away either. She leaned in, her lips hovering just inches from his.
The crowd's intensity and Rihana's eyes with hopeful expression left him with little choice. Refusing her in front of everyone would be cruel, a blow to her reputation that he wasn't willing to deliver.
However, just as the instant hung in precarious suspense, a champagne bottle flew through the air, spinning wildly as it got closer to them.
The spectators gasped, the chant cutting off mid-sylla le as everyone froze.
Towering over Rihana, Donovan saw the bottle hurtling toward them. In a swift motion, he pulled Rihana aside, disrupting her focus just as she was about to close the gap between their lips. Shock rippled through her as Donovan caught the bottle mere inches from impact, his hand steady and decisive, shielding her from harm.
His eyes snapped to the source of the chaos, and his eyes locked on Kai, who stood unapologetically in the distance. His audacity was as blatant as the stunt he had just pulled.
Rihana's eyes narrowed to Kai.
Kai grinned and raised his thumb, a smug expression plastered across his face. It was as if he were congratulating Donovan on his reflexes, ignoring the fact that he had nearly caused a disaster—and interrupted a kiss Rihana had been waiting three long months to steal.
Rihana's eyes were blazing with fury while she forced a sweet smile, masking the anger beneath her composed exterior. Inside, she seethed. Kai, of all people, had ruined what should have been her perfect moment.
Donovan turned to her, his expression softening. "Are you okay?" he asked, handing the champagne bottle to the woman in black.
Rihana nodded stiffly. "Yes, I'm fine," she replied, her voice polite but distant.
Meanwhile, Kai and Logan exited the Arena, making their way to the Donovan's private room in the building.
"Don't let Rihana be alone with Donovan," Kai ordered.
Logan folded his arms, unimpressed. "Care to explain why?"
"Later."
"Not good enough," Logan shot back. "Now."
Kai rolled his eyes, "Liora is here, in Valtham."
Logan's brows rose. "Well, that explains your blunt stunt. Don't worry; I've got this."
Logan turned back toward the Arena, gesturing for Donovan to follow.