After repeated defeats at Lance's hands, Roark persisted in challenging him, his stubborn determination unwavering. Driven by an insatiable desire to prove himself, to surpass Lance, and to claim leadership, Roark refused to yield, relentlessly seeking redemption in each rematch.
"What do you think, sir? Do you think he'll be back for another round?" a team member queried, their curiosity reflecting the sentiment shared among those who had observed Roark's relentless pursuit of victory.
"I guess he will," Lance replied calmly, seated on a bench in the training ground, his unwavering resolve mirrored in his patient anticipation of Roark's inevitable return.
They both waited for a long time but that day Roark didn't come.
As the days passed without Roark's arrival, Lance and the team member faithfully returned to the training ground, their anticipation tinged with a growing sense of uncertainty. Each day, they braved the solemn emptiness of the space, hoping in vain for Roark's return, only to be met with the oppressive silence that echoed his absence.
"Will he be a no-show again today?" the member inquired, casting a worried glance at Lance, whose gaze remained fixed upon the entrance to the training ground, his expression betraying a mixture of disappointment and concern.
Lance remained silent, his disappointment palpable as he checked his watch, the passage of time weighing heavily upon him.
"Let's head back. It seems he won't be coming today either," Lance finally spoke, his tone heavy with resignation.
"Understood, sir," the member replied somberly, acknowledging Lance's decision as they turned away from the empty training ground and began their departure.
As Lance and the team member made their way towards the exit, their attention was drawn to a commotion near the reception area. A woman with vibrant blue hair stood before the receptionist, her expression a mixture of desperation and fear, tears glistening in her eyes.
"What's going on here?" Lance inquired, stepping forward to address the situation.
"Sir, she's been asking for you," the receptionist explained, her voice tinged with concern as she gestured towards the distraught woman before them.
"Are you Mr. Lance?" the woman questioned, her voice trembling with urgency as she caught sight of Lance.
"Yes, I am. And you?" Lance responded, his concern evident as he met her gaze.
"I'm Lily. Please, you have to help my brother," Lily implored, her grip tightening on Lance's hand as she pleaded for his assistance.
"Alright, Lily, take a deep breath. Please, tell me what happened to your brother," Lance urged gently, easing his hand from her grasp and offering reassurance through his calming presence.
"My brother has been coming home late for the past few days, and he's been injured every time. But today, he hasn't returned at all," Lily explained, her voice trembling with a mixture of sorrow and anxiety as tears streamed down her cheeks.
"What's your brother's name?" Lance inquired, his tone compassionate as he sought to gather as much information as possible to aid in the search.
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"It's Roark," Lily replied, her voice softening with affection and pride as she uttered her brother's name.
"What? So you're Roark's sister!" Lance exclaimed, a mixture of surprise and realization dawning upon him. He recalled the conversations he'd had with Roark, who had spoken fondly of his sister as his only family member.
"Yes, and he's mentioned you before. That's why I've come to ask for your help," Lily explained, her gaze pleading as she sought assistance from someone her brother held in high regard.
"Do you have any insight into what might have happened to your brother?" Lance inquired, his tone gentle yet probing.
"I'm not entirely sure, but I suspect he may have encountered some trouble with illegal players. Please, you have to find him," Lily replied, her voice tinged with worry as she shook her head, her words trailing off into a whisper.
"Don't fret, Lily. I promise I'll do everything in my power to locate him," Lance reassured her, offering a comforting nod as he vowed to take action and bring Roark back safely.
"Thank you so much," Lily expressed with gratitude, a sense of relief washing over her.
"Tell Mr. Trevor to search the alleys and known hideouts of the illegal players. I'll head there myself," Lance instructed firmly, his determination evident in his tone.
"Understood, sir," the team member responded with a salute, swiftly acknowledging Lance's directive before hastening to relay the orders to Mr. Trevor and commence the search without delay.
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In the dim confines of the alley, Roark found himself surrounded by a gang of ruthless players, their menacing presence casting shadows against the walls. Despite his fatigue and injuries, Roark's defiance remained steadfast, his voice ringing out with unyielding resolve.
"Feeling worn out already?" Roark taunted, his words laced with a hint of defiance as he faced down his adversaries. Though weary from the relentless pursuit, he refused to display any hint of fear or weakness, having already bested several of them in previous skirmishes.
"How dare you!" the illegal players roared in unison, their fury fueling their reckless charge. Driven by anger and greed, they cared little for rules or consequences, their sole focus fixated on capturing their elusive prey, heedless of the losses they'd suffered in their relentless pursuit.
As Roark fought valiantly against the overwhelming odds, his exhaustion began to weigh heavily upon him. Despite wielding his spear with skill and determination, he found himself continually outmaneuvered and overpowered by the relentless onslaught of his adversaries. Each dodge, stab, and kick was met with a barrage of hits, slashes, and punches, leaving him battered and bloodied, yet undeterred in his resolve.
Suddenly, a voice broke through the chaos from behind him.
"Do you require assistance?" Lance's calm voice cut through the turmoil, signaling his arrival on the scene, drawn by the trail of clues and leads.
"No, I've got this," Roark insisted stubbornly, his gaze meeting Lance's as a whirlwind of emotions stirred within him.
Refusing to yield to his injuries, Roark tightened his grip on his spear and plunged back into the fray, determined to continue the fight despite the odds stacked against him.
"Well, considering I promised to find you, I can't very well stand by and watch," Lance replied with a reassuring smile before joining Roark in the heat of battle.
Together, Lance and Roark formed an unstoppable team, their individual skills harmonizing seamlessly as they faced off against the illegal players.
"How did you know where to find me?" Roark inquired, his curiosity piqued amidst the chaos of combat.
Lance remained calm and composed, his movements precise and strategic as he deftly wielded his sword, anticipating and countering each attack with precision.
"Your sister told me," Lance explained, his tone steady and focused as he continued to engage their opponents.
Roark was fierce and passionate, using his spear and skills to attack and overwhelm. He stabbed and swung his spear, and he kicked and punched. He used his speed and power, and he surprised the enemies with his agility and ferocity.
"I had told her not to worry," Roark murmured to himself, a sense of guilt creeping into his thoughts amidst the chaos of battle.
As they fought, Lance and Roark moved in perfect harmony, their movements synchronized as they seamlessly covered each other's backs and capitalized on their adversaries' weaknesses. Through silent communication conveyed by their eyes and gestures, they coordinated their actions and timing with precision, a testament to their unspoken understanding and camaraderie.
"What are they?" the illegal players exclaimed in shock and terror, their confidence shattered by the unexpected sight of Roark fighting alongside Lance. They had anticipated facing a weakened and vulnerable opponent in Roark, only to find themselves confronted by the formidable duo of Roark and Lance, their strength and determination a force to be reckoned with.
"Run away!" The illegal players' panicked cries echoed through the alley as they witnessed their comrades falling one by one, their screams and groans fueling their fear and desperation. Gripped by a primal instinct to flee, they discarded their weapons and fled, their resolve shattered by the overwhelming force of Lance and Roark's onslaught.
"In any case, how did you get mixed up with them?" Lance inquired, his tone a blend of curiosity and concern as he sought to understand the circumstances surrounding Roark's entanglement with the illegal players.
"It's a simple story, really. A few members of their organization attempted to pilfer from me, so I taught them a lesson. But the following day, they returned with reinforcements, intent on plundering me again," Roark explained nonchalantly, his words betraying the understated gravity of the situation he had found himself in.
"Alright. Let's go. Your sister is waiting for you," Lance said, extending his hand in a gesture of camaraderie.
Roark accepted the offered hand and pulled himself to his feet.
"By the way, will you be up for another challenge tomorrow?" Lance inquired, his tone laced with anticipation.
"Absolutely. I will," Roark affirmed with determination.
"Then I'll eagerly await your challenge," Lance replied with a smile, their mutual respect and competitive spirit shining through.