Twenty hours later..

"Those four were pretty silent yesterday." I said, shaking my head. "God forbid we get a repeat of what happened ten years ago." I winced slightly. "It seems they want to solve this in the ring, though, so maybe we’re in for a safer kind of spectacle." I pointed up toward the massive scoreboard displaying the fighters’ names in bold letters, the hum of the crowd swelling with anticipation. "It's day two of the Burnout Tournament, and the second round is bound to be exciting!" My voice lifted in an attempt to match the crowd’s growing enthusiasm. "Well, not like the other four were boring, but there was a clear favorite, and everyone knew it."

I gestured to the betting station, a bustling hive of activity where fans lined up, clutching tickets and chattering in excited whispers. "For Ryan and Hal, their bets both return one and a half times. As a specialty for round two, we have some stats on who had the most bets." I paused as Manny stepped up beside me, appearing just at the edge of my vision with a paper in hand. He handed me the betting stats sheet, his movements swift and practiced. I glanced down at the paper, eyes widening in surprise. "Wow, folks! It's… near even?!" My voice carried over the loudspeakers, sparking murmurs through the audience. "Ryan has fifty-two percent of the bets, while Hal has forty-eight." I announced, raising my brows with a grin

I placed the paper down on my desk with a firm pat, leaning into the microphone as I spoke. "I've announced and given commentary on fights for five years now. Firsthand, I’ve seen gladiators rise like legends and fall just as spectacularly. You think they’re unbeatable, but then they lose so badly you’re left wondering why you ever put your faith in them!" I paused. "But it’s not that the fighter is weak," I continued, my voice steady and intense, "it’s that their opponent is just too strong!" I leaned forward, moving the loudspeaker closer to amplify the thrill. "Now, folks, let’s look back at what we’ve already seen! Hal claimed his victory in dominant fashion, leaving no room for doubt. Ryan, though—he won, yes, but after taking a beating that might've brought anyone else to their knees! So what does that tell us? Was Mason an easier target than Oliver, or was Oliver even stronger than we expected?! Well, we’re about to find out… right now!"

I pointed out to the arena, my arm sweeping toward the action below as I rallied the crowd. "Say it with the referee, folks!" The referee, standing poised on the sandy floor, raised his hand as the countdown began. His voice rang out loud and clear, "Three... two... one..." The crowd, practically vibrating with excitement, took over as the countdown reached its peak. With one explosive voice, they roared, "Begin!"

Petty theatrics. Hal's face contorted unnaturally, his lips curling back, eyes narrowing like a predator stalking its prey. Every muscle in his face and neck tightened with a disturbing intensity. He's in the zone—completely focused, honed to a razor's edge. I’d studied his patterns from the previous fight, noting every preferred move, every tell. Hal loved hammer fists and wide, powerful strikes, trading subtlety for brute force. Hal charged forward, his heavy footsteps shaking the arena floor. I followed, keeping my steps light, calculating. Just as he closed in, I leapt into the air, extending my right leg in a high arc, muscles taut. In response, Hal cocked his arm back, winding up a punch that promised bone-crushing force. He unleashed his power as my fist met his foot with an explosive clash, the collision sending shockwaves radiating through the air.

He pivoted, his feet gliding with surprising agility for his size. He switched stances smoothly and lunged, snatching my ankle in a vice-like grip with his left hand. I twisted in his hold, using my momentum to spin and gather force. With a brutal upward kick, I connected with his chin, dislocating it with a sickening pop. Despite the blow, I felt no satisfying crack or snap—he took the hit without a shudder. I need more stopping power. Hal’s grip tightened, his fingers digging into my ankle as he sneered. With his free hand, he reached up and, with a grimace, wrenched his jaw back into place, snapping it into position as if it were nothing more than an annoyance. Then, with a primal roar, he heaved me toward the wall.

I landed with my toes pressed against the wall. The impact left a crater, cracks radiating outward, but the wall held firm beneath me. I could feel the faint tremor under my feet as I balanced, the solid stone resisting collapse. Hal let out a guttural yell—a primal, animalistic sound that echoed across the arena. “Ergghh!” His body twisted downward as he dropped onto all fours, tearing across the sand like a wild beast, kicking up dust with each powerful stride. His eyes glinted with a ferocity that felt almost otherworldly. I stepped back down onto the sand, planting my feet with purpose, spreading my arms wide as if inviting him forward, a silent challenge.

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He accepted instantly, launching himself toward me with reckless abandon, his hands stretched forward in a desperate, lunging takedown. Timing it perfectly, I arced a powerful question mark kick, sweeping my leg in a sharp, deceptive motion that collided with his cheek, cratering his face with an audible crunch. His head snapped to the side, but somehow, his momentum barely slowed. He kept barreling forward, eyes fixed on me with an unnerving intensity.

I wove to the side just as he hurtled past, his hulking frame slamming into the wall with a force that nearly shattered it entirely. Stone and dust rained down around him, fragments clattering to the ground. I backpedaled quickly, putting as much distance between us as I could, my breaths coming faster as I strategized my next move. Hal wasn’t finished. Like an unstoppable predator, he turned his body toward me again, rising to his feet this time with an animalistic determination. I watched him approach. He threw a wild uppercut, the sheer force behind it slicing deep into my shoulder even though I’d twisted and leaned back to dodge. Pain shot through me, but I forced myself to focus, refusing to give him an inch. I retaliated with a powerful kick to his chest, but Hal only grinned through the impact, his eyes alight with a twisted, frenzied delight. He barely flinched, the strike seeming to fuel him rather than deter him.

With frightening speed, he reached down, swiping at my leg to catch my foot in his iron grip. Instinctively, I chambered it back just in time, avoiding his hold by a hair’s breadth. This wasn’t how Hal had fought before. There had always been a beast-like ferocity to his movements, but he’d mocked between strikes, taunted Mason with jeers and jabs. Now, there was something darkly focused about him. Hal lifted his right arm high above his head, muscles rippling as he readied himself for a hammer fist. I steadied my breath, reading his movement, then spun with as much force as I could muster, completing a full rotation before planting a back kick squarely into his sternum. I felt the solid impact resonate up my leg, heard his groan as it drove into his chest, but he held his ground, barely shifting as he absorbed the blow. A flicker of panic hit me—I was exposed. His arm was already coming down toward my back.

Angling my leg just right, I dropped to the ground, placing both hands down and sweeping. My leg struck Hal’s shins hard, his balance crumbling as he stumbled. His fist, fully cocked and ready, missed me by inches, whizzing by my face. Relief flooded me—until I felt a sudden, vise-like grip on my pants. To my dismay, Hal had snatched me mid-fall, his pinky and thumb alone holding my clothing. We both hit the ground hard, sprawled out side by side. I twisted up, using the moment to land a powerful kick to his chest, targeting the same battered spot I’d struck before. This time, I felt the impact reverberate even deeper, and I saw the briefest flash of pain in his eyes. His hand shot up, clamping down around my leg with a crushing force. Pain flooded my senses—my leg was already broken, and he was only making it worse. In a flash of fury, I yelled, “Just die, you stupid dog!”

I wrenched free, regaining my footing with a determination fueled by desperation. Gritting my teeth, I raised my foot as high as I could. This time, I was going for a stomp, a brutal, decisive blow meant to end this once and for all. I brought my foot down with all my might, aiming to crush him into the ground. With a roar, he threw me backward before my foot could land, hurling me through the air like a ragdoll. Instinctively, I tried to stop my fall, but in said panic, I landed on my broken leg, pain exploding through my body as I further damaged the limb. I gasped, forcing myself to switch feet, pushing through the agony to regain my stance. He still stood, looming before me with that same relentless fire in his eyes. He just won’t go down!

Hal leaned forward, his right arm extending like a battering ram. His hand clamped around his own bicep, veins bulging as he gripped it tightly, summoning blood flow and strength to amplify his power. using Reinforced Fist. Fine, fine, fine! I’d wanted to prove I could win without using his techniques, but the time for holding back had passed. Fine, fine, fine!! In an instant, Hal exploded forward, his speed unlike anything shown in this tournament—an unstoppable force barreling toward me. I quickly placed one heel against the wall behind me, curling up into a tight coil, preparing to spring. With a steadying breath, I whispered to myself, calming the pounding in my chest. Across the way, Hal's lips curled in a snarl as he charged, drool dripping from his mouth, overtaken by the beast within him.

I looked into his wild eyes, feeling a pang of understanding. I don’t know what you’ve been through, Hal, but maybe it’s not so different from me. The difference is that you gave in—while I conquered my beast! I launched off the wall, my body uncoiling as I thrust my leading leg forward, arms crossing tightly over my torso. My body gathered momentum, whirling faster with each rotation. This was everything I’d fought to achieve, a technique born from that room—the Vermillion Drill!

The arena fell into absolute silence, grains of sand and dust swirling around us, cloaking the aftermath of our desperate clash. The announcer’s voice echoed in the silence, breaking through the haze. “Woah, woah!! Who won?!” The dust settled, and I planted my foot on the ground, sending a tremor through the sand as I stood tall. I stomped once, the force clearing the last of the dust, revealing Hal’s body sprawled out behind me, battered and broken. I stared at his unmoving form.

My entire body relaxed, worn out. I cried out, "YEEEEAAAAAAHHHH!!"