The fight between Stephen and the ninja-looking man was about to begin, and from the moment the two stood on the platform, it was clear where most of the crowd’s confidence lay.
Almost every bet placed around the arena favored the ninja.
Although Stephen had already shown an impressive display of skill in his previous matches, the man standing across from him was far more visually striking. His entire body was wrapped in black cloth, his face hidden beneath a mask that revealed only his eyes. Even before the fight had officially begun, he had drawn attention simply by existing. There were whispers spreading through the crowd, excitement building as people leaned forward in their seats.
Many weren’t betting based on logic or performance.
They were betting because he looked like a ninja.
As the ninja stepped onto the stage, he didn’t walk. Instead, he performed a clean forward flip, landing lightly on his feet in the center of the platform as if gravity itself treated him differently.
Cheers erupted almost instantly.
"Well, if he doesn’t win," someone in the crowd said loudly, "then I think I’m going to have to reconsider my life choices."
Another voice chimed in.
"Does this mean ninjas are actually real? Like they really exist? Or is this guy just roleplaying or something?"
Max stood with his arms crossed, observing quietly. He had heard of an enormous variety of fighters over the years—brawlers, specialists, assassins, martial artists from obscure schools—but even he had to admit this was the first time he had seen someone openly presenting themselves as a ninja.
Still, appearances alone didn’t decide fights.
Regardless, with so many people placing bets on the ninja, even if Stephen were to win, Max doubted Darius would become overly irritated. From a business perspective, the imbalance in betting actually worked in their favor.
The bell rang.
"Alright, let’s do this!" the ninja shouted suddenly.
"High kick!"
Without hesitation, he swung his leg upward in a wide arc aimed straight for Stephen’s head.
Stephen leaned back calmly, the kick passing just inches from his face.
"Quick punch!" the ninja called out next, throwing a series of punches toward Stephen’s head.
Stephen shifted his stance smoothly, bobbing and weaving to the side, each punch missing by a narrow margin. His movements were controlled, efficient, and devoid of unnecessary motion.
"What kind of ninja calls out all of his attacks?" Stephen muttered. "I don’t even need to use my skills properly. You’re telling me exactly what’s coming."
The ninja didn’t respond. Instead, he rolled into a cartwheel, transitioning fluidly into another acrobatic maneuver before leaping high into the air.
"Flying kick!"
The crowd gasped.
This was the exact move the ninja had used in his previous match, the one that had ended decisively in his favor. Nearly all of his attacks back then had landed cleanly, overwhelming his opponent before they could react.
But Stephen wasn’t the same kind of fighter.
As the ninja soared through the air, Stephen’s eyes narrowed.
There, he thought. That’s the moment.
If there was one situation where an opponent couldn’t dodge, it was while airborne.
Stephen pushed off the back of his foot, his body surging forward with explosive speed. The ground beneath him cracked slightly under the force as he closed the distance in an instant.
Before the ninja could react, Stephen drove his fist straight into the center of his stomach.
The impact echoed through the arena.
A sharp grunt escaped the ninja’s mouth as his body folded inward, crashing down onto the platform. He rolled slightly, clutching his stomach, his breath completely knocked out of him.
The hit had gone far deeper than expected.
Part of it was Stephen’s timing, striking midair. Another part was the speed behind the blow, his power amplified by momentum. It was a clean counter, executed perfectly.
Stephen stepped back, watching his opponent struggle to breathe.
There’s another thing I need to keep in mind, Stephen thought as he observed him carefully.
"I’m going to punch you in the face," Stephen said calmly.
The ninja instinctively raised his guard.
Instead of punching, Stephen lifted his knee sharply and drove it upward, slamming it into the ninja’s face with precision. The impact snapped the ninja’s head back, and his body collapsed instantly, unconscious before he even hit the ground.
The referee rushed forward.
The fight was over.
Stephen straightened, lowering his leg as the crowd erupted into loud cheers. It was another unexpected outcome in their eyes, another upset that no one had seen coming.
"You know," Stephen said quietly, looking down at the fallen fighter, "maybe if you called out your attacks and lied a bit, you would’ve done better."
Laughter rippled through parts of the crowd.
Stephen stepped away as the referee confirmed the knockout. His red jacket stood out vividly under the arena lights, making him instantly recognizable. With each victory, more eyes were being drawn to him, more people beginning to remember his name.
As he walked off the platform, Stephen’s breathing was heavier than before.
Another thing I’ve realized, he thought, is that it’s not just my body that struggles with my speed. It’s my stamina too.
Although his overall physical condition had improved significantly, using his enhanced speed came at a cost. Every burst of movement drained his energy rapidly, as if the speed itself demanded payment from his endurance.
It’s like the faster I move, the more stamina it consumes. My body has to work harder just to keep up with itself.
He clenched his fists slightly.
I’ll need to keep working on this. I need to increase my stamina alongside my speed. Otherwise, if I face someone more difficult... I might not last long enough to win.
The level of opponents here was clearly rising.
Even though it had looked like Stephen dealt with the ninja easily, he knew the truth. Without the power granted by his vow, this fight would have been far more difficult. He might not have lost, but it wouldn’t have been so decisive.
He had improved drastically.
For just a moment, a familiar thought tried to surface in his mind.
If I had this strength back then...
Stephen stopped himself.
No.
He pushed the thought aside immediately.
That path is closed.
When Stephen returned to the others, the mood was noticeably different. Max looked particularly pleased, already checking his phone as notifications poured in. Another significant bonus payment had just gone through.
Darius and Jett, however, sat next to each other, their expressions far more serious.
"If they keep betting like this," Darius said quietly, "it’s going to become a real problem."
Jett nodded. "I’m not even sure we’ll have the funds to keep paying them out if this continues. And we can’t touch their funds either. That would cause serious trouble."
Darius exhaled slowly. "Then I guess there’s only one thing we can do."
Jett turned to him and gave a knowing wink.