Stepping into the ring, the sound of the crowd dimmed into a tense, breathless hush. Everyone leaned forward, eyes flicking between the four figures now inside the pit. The air practically vibrated with anticipation.
The moment the host lowered his arm, The fight began. El and Gyro moved first.
Despite their mismatched body types, one tall with blade-like elbows, the other short and stocky, they shot forward in perfect unison, both heading straight toward their chosen targets.
Wolf didn’t hesitate.
He stepped forward alone, leaving Joe behind.
He didn’t tell Joe to stay put, didn’t shout a warning, he simply moved, trusting Joe to follow the whispered plan from earlier.
He dashed across the arena floor, and when he got close, he saw El’s first attack: an attempt at a grab or a hook, maybe both.
Wolf ducked under the strike, the wind brushing over the top of his hair as El’s arm cut through empty air.
Another elbow swung toward him immediately after.
This one was sharper. Thinner. Deadlier.
He rolled across the floor just in time, the slicing noise of El’s elbow cutting the air above him like the swing of a small axe.
Gyro tried to catch Wolf the moment he got up, but Wolf stayed low, lower than anyone expected.
He moved like an animal, hands and feet on the ground, back arched like a predator weaving through trees. Not a technique, not a martial art. Just instinct. Just Wolf.
Then he twisted sharply and snapped his leg around in a kick, catching Gyro square in the back.
A normal person would’ve stumbled.
Gyro didn’t move an inch.
The impact reverberated up Wolf’s leg, telling him everything he needed to know.
Gyro wasn’t large... not visually. But he was solid. Brutally solid. A walking wall.
Wolf gritted his teeth, not from frustration, but calculation.
He now understood why Gyro had the reputation he did.
Then a bigger problem hit.
Instead of both opponents chasing him, El broke off and went straight for Joe.
Wolf’s stomach dropped.
Joe was doing everything he could to keep up the limp, the pain, the fake weakness. But El didn’t know it was fake. He just saw prey, and sprinted toward him with alarming speed.
Wolf sprinted.
But Gyro stepped in front of him, blocking his path like a boulder falling from the sky.
Wolf struck him again, this time in the stomach, but Gyro didn’t flinch.
Wolf jumped instead, planting a foot onto Gyro’s shoulder and launching himself over him like a springboard.
He soared across the pit...just in time to see El spin.
An elbow came at his face with brutal precision. It slammed into Wolf, or it would have.
Wolf’s hand snapped out at the last second, catching the elbow with the palm of his hand.
"Ktch," El said with a crooked grin. "Lucky you managed to guess the timing of that one."
"It’s not luck," Wolf replied flatly.
El didn’t believe him.
Or maybe he did, and didn’t want to admit it.
Either way, he attacked immediately, swinging both arms rapidly, elbows and forearms slicing toward Wolf from both sides.
They were fast. Faster than most eyes could process.
Wolf blocked. Blocked again. Shifted back. Redirected the force. Moved just enough to avoid each hit, but not enough to counterattack. He was stuck retreating.
His senses were screaming. His mind tracked every movement. But El’s barrage was relentless. Vivian watched with a satisfied smile, arms crossed.
"It’s just as I thought," she said under her breath. "He’s too distracted worrying about his friend. He doesn’t know what to do. As long as he’s split between protecting the injured boy and fighting seriously, he can’t win."
Below, the match tilted even further. Wolf kept blocking, but El kept pushing him back. And at the same time, Gyro was heading straight for Joe.
"Haha! Look at this!" El laughed breathlessly. "I’ve never fought with Gyro before, but it seems he knows exactly what needs to be done! Once your friend is taken out... then it’s two-on-one!"
Wolf ducked under a hand strike instead of blocking it, moving perfectly, slipping into a sweet spot just beneath the attack.
His eyes sharpened.
"Right... right," he said calmly. "You think it’s easy because my friend over there is injured, right?"
El raised an eyebrow, confused for half a second.
"You know," Wolf continued, "I noticed something. Gyro seems to have no weaknesses. No weak spot on his whole body."
El smirked.
He loved hearing the fear in other fighters.
"Hwoever," Wolf added, "he does have one overall weakness. The guy is slow."
That made El’s smirk fade.
"So tell me," Wolf said quietly, "what happens to a guy who hits hard... but can’t get hit back... if his target isn’t actually injured?"
El’s eyes widened. He didn’t get a chance to turn. Because a loud SNAP echoed across the entire arena, followed by the crowd collectively wincing.
Joe’s fist connected with Gyro’s face.
A clean jab. Then a second. Then a third.
All landing in the exact same spot.
Gyro growled and lunged forward for a tackle, but Joe moved like water, smooth, controlled, light on his feet. He slipped out of the way easily, pivoting just enough to dodge.
Gyro turned his head, and Joe struck him again. Three more hits landed to the face.
Snapping noise.
Snapping noise.
Snapping noise.
Joe’s movements were flawless.
He was avoiding every attack Gyro threw at him.
Gyro couldn’t even get close enough to graze him.
And each time Joe struck, he hit the same exact point on Gyro’s head , over and over , perfect placement, perfect speed, perfect form.
"What is going on?!" Vivian exploded, standing up from her seat. "He’s not weak at all! If he was injured, he couldn’t move like that!"
Wolf grinned as he parried another elbow, deflecting it away.
"Sorry for the act," Wolf said calmly.
He stepped in. An elbow came at him. Wolf ducked low and sprang upward with explosive force. His knees bent, then launched. His knee smashed into El’s chin. El’s head snapped back violently. Wolf landed gracefully as El staggered, dazed from the blow.
"I wanted to make things as easy as possible for us," Wolf said with a confident shrug, "so I needed to play my own game too."