There hadn’t been a single tag-team match in the event so far.
Not tonight, not in any of the earlier rounds, and even in past events it was something rare enough that most spectators had only heard rumors of it.
Because tag-team matches were messy.
Two fighters from one side, two from another , it doubled the chaos, doubled the risk, doubled the unpredictability. Most illegal circuits avoided them because contestants were constantly fighting one another, and alliances were fragile at best.
But because this was different, because it hadn’t happened before, because it involved two fighters from the same gang, the Pit...
...the crowd lit up.
It was enough to get them completely excited.
"Of course they’d pull something like this," Wolf muttered, staring up at the giant screen that now showed both his face and Joe’s side by side. "And I have a pretty good idea why she decided to do this."
Vivian was sitting far away, but even from where Wolf stood, he could practically feel the smug smile radiating off her face. She was the Black Hounds’ tactician for a reason , smart, calculating, calm under pressure , and right now she was using every scrap of information she had to tilt the match in her favor.
Wolf was strong.
Joe was strong too , but injured.
And the last two fighters remaining were monsters in their own right.
According to her evaluation, Wolf and the last two fighters should be evenly matched.
But the injured kid? Joe wouldn’t stand a chance.
That meant, in her calculations, only one guaranteed win existed , the win over injured Joe. But defeating Wolf was far from certain.
So she needed something bigger.
Something that would guarantee Chad would make one last massive bet.
Something that would manipulate him into thinking he could win , right before she flipped the table over on him.
She needed him to bet the entire remainder of his money on their two "golden geese."
And this tag-team fight was her answer.
’If it’s two on two,’ Vivian thought, the corner of her lip curling upward, ’then there’s no chance for them to win. The orange-haired one will have to protect his injured friend. And if he doesn’t, they’ll just take out the weak one immediately... and turn it into a two-on-one.’
Her eyes narrowed.
’This match is already doomed. There isn’t a thing they can do about it.’
Wolf didn’t know everything she was planning, but he definitely knew she was behind it.
And ironically , his imagination of what was happening in Vivian’s head was spot-on.
He shrugged his shoulders and turned to Joe, who was still sitting down stiffly.
"You ready to do this together?" Wolf asked. "It’ll be easier if you can help me, too."
Joe nodded, pushing himself up from the seat.
"I’m fine," he said , then winced slightly as he began to stand properly.
But before he could fully straighten his posture, Wolf leaned in close and whispered:
"Pretend you’re hurt. Walk with a limp. Hold your side where you got hit."
Joe blinked.
At first, it sounded weird , but Wolf rarely said anything without a reason. So Joe trusted him. He nodded again and did exactly that, placing his hand over his ribs and limping as he moved toward the pit-like arena.
The crowd immediately buzzed with speculation , whispers, mutters, gasps, all circling the rooftop like wild electricity.
The bets opened.
And this was the only part of Vivian’s plan where things could go wrong.
Everyone could see the condition Joe was in.
Even with his enhanced healing, he looked terrible , dried blood, torn shirt, bruises still darkening. With his limp, most assumed it would be a miracle if he lasted even ten seconds in the ring.
Everything was lining up just as Vivian hoped.
Still... she hesitated.
She needed Chad to place the final bet.
The biggest one.
The one that made everything worth it.
Would he place it?
Would he finally go against his two miracle fighters?
Or would he stick with them , even knowing Joe looked half-dead?
She watched him intensely.
Chad’s knee bounced uncontrollably, tapping against the floor. Sweat gathered at his temples. His hands hovered above the digital betting screen.
And then,
He slammed his finger down.
"They haven’t failed me so far," Chad declared, breath shaking. "So I’m going to trust them again, fifty million on the two to win!"
People around him gasped.
Even Chad looked shocked at himself.
It was the first time he had ever bet based on something deeper than instinct or greed. He didn’t truly believe the two boys could win , especially not after seeing Joe’s condition.
But...
Not betting on them felt wrong.
Almost like betrayal.
Chad had never cared about loyalty before.
He barely understood friendship.
So why did betting against them make his whole body feel icky?
Why did the idea of abandoning them make his stomach twist?
He didn’t understand it.
But he trusted that feeling.
And he bet everything.
Vivian saw the notification appear on her tablet , the fifty-million bet locked in , and she almost stood up from her seat.
It worked.
It actually worked.
Her plan was coming together perfectly.
She nodded to the host, who raised his hand and signaled for betting to end.
Now all four fighters could enter the ring.
On one side of the arena stood a tall man with incredibly long limbs , elbows sharp like blades. His strikes had cut multiple opponents above the eye earlier, earning him the nickname:
El.
Beside him stood a short, stocky man with an unbelievably thick neck , a man who seemed completely unfazed by pain no matter how hard he was hit.
His name was:
Gyro.
They were an odd pairing , tall and slicing versus short and immovable , but together, they were a terrifying combination.
Weapons and armor together.
El and Gyro.
A perfect match.
Wolf carefully caught Joe before he tripped on the final step, lowering him onto the ground gently.
"If you want this fight to go easy," Wolf said, voice low and calm, "then just listen to me."
He stared at Joe , not with doubt, but with strategy flooding behind his eyes.
Joe nodded. His fist tightened. His breathing steadied. Even with the limp, even with the bruises, even with the pain buzzing through his ribs and jaw, He trusted Wolf. Because this wasn’t just some fight anymore. This was the final match. A tag-team battle.
And everyone in the rooftop arena , every spectator, every gambler, every thug, every leader , leaned forward in their seats as the bell was about to ring.
Wolf’s eyes narrowed. Joe exhaled. The crowd screamed.
And the final fight of the event... began.