Chapter 151
The arena lights snapped back on. The floor was still stained with the blood from the last round, but the crew didn't even bother cleaning it up.
Nobody cared.
Everyone was watching the stage. Waiting for the next name to be called.
The announcer's voice came sharp through the speakers.
“Up next, representing the Blackgate Syndicate... Master Soryu of the Ten Thousand Palm Monastery!"
The crowd stirred.
Even the rowdy front-row types straightened up.
You didn't joke around when that name came up.
Soryu stepped out, bald head glinting under the spotlights, hands tucked behind his back. Dressed in deep crimson robes, he looked like a monk-but not the peaceful kind. His body was cut from years of training, and the air around him crackled with presence.
He was known. Respected. Feared. A hired weapon wrapped in holy cloth.
Jaden stood waiting at the center of the arena, arms loose, like he was out for a walk.
They met in the middle.
Soryu looked Jaden over once, then chuckled.
"You are young. Too young. You think you've seen war, boy? You think strength is
just blood and fury? You're still in the tutorial."
Jaden smirked.
"No. I just think you talk too much."
The crowd flinched like they'd been slapped.
Soryu's smile dropped. Just a twitch. But it was there.
Then the bell rang.
Soryu moved first. No warning. He was suddenly right there in Jaden's space, palm slicing through the air like a blade.
Jaden ducked it with half a step, slid sideways, then flicked the monk in the forehead.
Tap.
The crowd went nuts.
Soryu's eyes twitched. His next palm came harder-three quick strikes meant to crush bone. Jaden weaved around them, slow and deliberate. Like he was watching a child throw a tantrum.
He didn't even hit back. Just dodged. Walked circles around the monk. Every now and then, he'd tap him again—shoulder, wrist, forehead—just to make a point. Soryu grunted.
"You mock the sacred arts."
"No," Jaden said, yawning. "I mock you."
In the VIP section, one of the Blackgate Syndicate bosses slammed his fist on the glass.
"End him, Soryu! We paid you millions, damn it! He's just a boy!"
But it didn't matter how much they paid.
Soryu's strikes got faster, angrier. He started using his legs, spinning kicks, elbow smashes, everything he had. Dust exploded around them with each missed blow. AndO
still-Jaden didn't break a sweat.
The monk was panting now. Sweat dripping down his shaved head. Movements getting sloppy. Breathing too loud.
Jaden tilted his head.
"You done?"
Soryu roared and came in again, hands glowing with energy. He threw everything into a final, strike his signature move. The crowd leaned forward.
Jaden stepped into it.
His fist met Soryu's chest like a cannonball.
BOOM.
The monk folded. His feet lifted
clean off the ground. He crasheet
into the arena wall, leaving a dent in the stone before dropping to the floor in a broken heap.
Silence.
Then the crowd erupted.
---
Fate shot up from her seat, eyes wide with shock, then lit up with pride.
"Yes! That's it! That's how you show them, Jaden!" she yelled, clapping hard enough to sting.
Lucian's camp didn't look so cheerful. One of the Blackgate lieutenants cursed under his breath.
"Millions gone... and he couldn't even land a clean hit?"
Lucian leaned forward, eyes narrowing. He said nothing. But his jaw tightened.
Back in the ring, the announcer slowly brought the mic up, voice still catching up to what he just saw.
"Ladies and gentlemen... the winner of this round two... is Jaden Rift!"
Pause.
"Point awarded to the Scarface Family... of the Gravesend Group.”