That kind of contempt really set Punikon off. He clenched his jaw, practically fuming.


    Some folks at the gym muttered,


    "Man, he''s acting all high and mighty. You think he actually knows how to fight? I checked every ranking I could find for Zhinora martial artists—not a single mention of Tarquin. Nobody on the circuit''s ever heard of him!"


    Punikon''s father scoffed,


    "Zhinora businessmen are arrogant to the core. Just because they know how to make money, they think they can rule every field they step into. Hah!"


    He clearly looked down on Tarquin.


    The only reason he hyped up Tarquin''s reputation was to boost his own. The tougher your opponent, the more impressive it looks if you beat them.


    Little did he know, he was nothing but a pawn in a bigger game. If it weren''t for the bait-and-switch, he wouldn''t even get the chance to face Tarquin in the ring.


    Punikon''s father stood up and walked to the ring, handing the referee the signed contract for the match.


    The ref held it up so everyone could see.


    Once the crowd realized this wasn''t just a friendly spar but a "no holds barred" match-winner takes all, loser might not leave the ring alive-the mood shifted instantly.


    A friendly match is just practice, a handshake at the end.


    But this? This was the kind of fight that could end in a funeral.


    After reading the contract out loud, the ref turned to both men, asking if they agreed.


    Tarquin and Punikon''s father nodded without hesitation.


    The local Thyania fighters went wild, whistling and taunting, shouting, "Knock him out! Make him pay!"


    By contrast, the Zhinora team looked tense and worried.


    They didn''t know who Tarquin was, or which rich guy might have secret fighting skills—but everyone recognized Punikon''s name.


    The Punikon family carried serious weight in Thyania.


    After their earlier scuffle with the locals, the Zhinora group was desperate for aeback-they needed one of their own to win.


    Up on the balcony, Evan and the old man-his mentor, a grizzled veteran with a face like a roadmap-watched quietly.


    Evan whispered,


    "This has gotta be Punikon''s doing. He''s gone too far. He''s practically setting his own dad up for a beating!"


    The old man frowned,


    "Every fighter has their own reasons for learning the art. Some do it to protect- protect themselves and the people they love."


    "But others... they learn just to hurt and destroy."


    "Martial arts don''t have borders. It''s like art-meant to be celebrated everywhere, no matter where you''re from If someone''s strong enough, they deserve respect fe matter their Country:  s


    "But there are always those who


    can''t stand to see someone else


    shine that''s how<fnb166> Follow current nov?ls on Find?Novel</fnb166>


    my father


    died too strong, too bright, and others just couldn''t take it. They schemed to take him down."  s


    Bernard faced the same fate.


    He was too skilled, threatened too many powerful interests—so they yed dirty, forced him into hiding, made him fake his own death.


    The whole martial arts world had lost its way.


    The strongest weren''t honored—they were hunted.


    Evan caught the pain and anger in his mentor''s eyes. He tugged the old man''s sleeve,


    "Don''t be sad, Uncle. I swear, I''ll find whoever hurt Grandpa and Grandma, and make them pay. I''ll get justice for them."


    The old man looked at him, deadly serious,


    "Your grandpa''s biggest dream was


    for us to stand tall in the world


    of


    martirts to bring real real glorydo our people: You have to keep pushing, finish what he started."  s


    Evan nodded hard, voice ringing with determination,


    "Yeah! I''ll do whatever it takes to make it to the top of the world stage-to show all


    those who look down on us, all those schemers, just what we''re made of!"