I stood on the tform, watching Lucas Rhodes struggle to his feet after crashing into the wall. The gymnasium had fallen into a stunned silence, the kind that follows when something impossible unfolds before people''s eyes. Lucas''s chest heaved withbored breaths as he clutched his side, pain etched across his face.


    "How..." Lucas gasped, stumbling forward. "That''s not possible. My Inner Strength..."


    His words trailed off as he coughed, specks of blood dotting his lips. The renowned "Inner Strength Expert" looked pathetically ordinary now, his reputation crumbling before the eyes of everyone present.


    I couldn''t help but feel a twist of satisfaction. "Your Inner Strength? Is that what you call it?"


    Lucas''s eyes shed with rage. Despite his obvious pain, he charged at me again, desperation fueling his movements. His fist flew toward my face with what remaining power he could muster.


    I didn''t move. Didn''t flinch. Didn''t even raise my hands.


    His knuckles connected squarely with my jaw—a hit that should have snapped my head back, possibly knocked me unconscious. Instead, it was like hitting a stone wall. My head didn''t budge an inch.


    The crowd gasped collectively.


    Lucas stared at his fist, then at my face, horror dawning in his eyes. "What are you?"


    I smiled slightly. "Just someone who''s tired of your family''s arrogance."


    With deliberate slowness, I raised my hand and tapped—just tapped—his chest with my index finger.


    The effect was immediate and devastating. Lucas flew backward as if shot from a cannon, his body carving a path through the air before crashing down at the edge of the tform. The crack of breaking ribs echoed through the suddenly silent gymnasium.


    "LUCAS!" Nora Donovan''s scream pierced the quiet as she rushed forward, dropping to her knees beside him. She red up at me, her face contorted with fury. "You monster! You could have killed him!"


    I raised an eyebrow. "Funnying from the person who just minutes ago told him to break my legs."


    Her face flushed crimson. "That''s different! He was—"


    "Following your orders?" I finished for her. "Perhaps you should choose your champions more carefully next time, Miss Donovan."


    Den Donovan pushed through the crowd, his face ashen as he saw his prized student writhing in pain. The master''s eyes darted between Lucas and me, calction and fear warring in his expression.


    Marcus Valerius stepped forward, unable to contain his satisfaction. "Well, Den, it seems your vaunted Inner Strength Boxing isn''t quite as formidable as you imed."


    Den''s neck reddened, humiliation evident in every line of his body. The crowd began whispering, pointing, some evenughing behind their hands. For a man like Den—proud, arrogant, and used tomanding respect—this public embarrassment was unbearable. <var ss="in-imprint-a">The M|V|LE&MPYR team worked hard on this chapter.</var>


    "Your hired help got lucky," Den snarled, desperate to salvage some dignity.


    Marcus''s expression hardened. "Hired help? You speak of the man who just demolished your star pupil in seconds?"


    Den''s eyes narrowed, and I recognized the look of a cornered animal. He nced around at the murmuring crowd, then straightened his shoulders.


    "This victory was bought, not earned!" he announced loudly, his voice carrying to every corner of the gymnasium. "There''s no other exnation!"


    The usation hung in the air, absurd yet calcted. I could see what he was doing—attempting to twist his humiliation into a narrative of corruption.


    "Are you suggesting I was bribed to lose?" Lucas croaked from where hey, clearly confused by his master''s strategy.


    Den shot him a warning look before continuing. "The Valerius Family School has always relied on underhanded tactics rather than true skill. This so-called victory proves nothing except their willingness to corrupt the sacred arts of martialbat!"


    The crowd, initially stunned by my disy of power, now seemed uncertain. Whispers spread like wildfire—exactly as Den had intended.


    "I heard the Valerius School was almost bankrupt..."


    "Would they really pay someone to throw a fight?"


    "That would exin how a nobody beat an Inner Strength Expert..."


    I watched in disbelief as the narrative shifted before my eyes. Marcus sputtered with indignation beside me, his face reddening as he tried to object, but the damage was already done. The seed of doubt had been nted.


    Den, seeing his gambit working, squared his shoulders and gestured for his followers to help Lucas up. "We won''t participate in this farce any longer. The Donovan School withdraws from any further association with the Valerius School and its mercenary fighters."


    He turned, prepared to make his dramatic exit with whatever dignity he could salvage.


    "Stop." My voice cut through the noise, quiet but carrying an undercurrent of power that silenced the room instantly.


    Den paused mid-stride, his back stiffening.


    "Before you leave," I continued, "I have a proposition."


    He turned slowly, wariness in his eyes. "What proposition?"


    I stepped forward, the wood of the tform creaking under my feet. "You im Marcus bribed Lucas to lose. That I''m just some ''hired help'' who couldn''t possibly defeat a real Inner Strength Expert fairly."


    "That''s exactly what I''m saying," Den replied, lifting his chin defiantly.


    I smiled, and several people in the front row visibly shuddered. "Mr. Donovan, since you imed that Mr. Valerius bribed Lucas, how about this: youe and have a match with me."


    The crowd erupted in shocked exmations. Den Donovan was no ordinary martial artist—he was a master with decades of experience, feared throughout the city for his ruthlessness and skill. His Inner Strength was said to be three times more powerful than even Lucas''s.


    rm shed across Den''s face before he could mask it. "You dare challenge me? A mere nobody?"


    "The same nobody who just defeated your star pupil without breaking a sweat," I replied calmly. "Unless, of course, you''re afraid that your usations might be proven false."


    Marcus grabbed my arm, his voice urgent in my ear. "Liam, you don''t need to do this. Den Donovan is dangerous—"


    I gently removed his hand. "So am I."


    Nora stepped between her father and me, her eyes zing. "This is ridiculous! My father is a master with thirty years of experience. He''d destroy you!"


    "Then he has nothing to worry about," I replied, never taking my eyes off Den. "If I''m just some fraud who won through bribery, surely a true master would make quick work of me."


    The crowd had gonepletely silent now, all eyes on Den. He was trapped by his own usation—refuse my challenge, and he tacitly admitted to lying about the bribery; ept it, and he risked the same humiliation that had befallen Lucas.


    "Well, Master Donovan?" I pressed. "Will you prove your ims inbat, or will you reveal them as the desperate lies of a proud man who cannot ept defeat?"


    Den''s face darkened with rage. His hands, I noticed, had begun to tremble slightly—not from fear, but from the effort of restraining his fury.


    "You will regret this challenge," he said quietly.


    A cold smile spread across my face. "Somehow, I doubt that."


    Marcus stepped forward, formally addressing the crowd. "Ladies and gentlemen, it seems we have an additional match today! Master Den Donovan has epted the challenge from Liam Knight!"


    The spectators erupted in excited chatter. This was unexpected entertainment—the kind of dramatic confrontation that would be gossiped about for weeks.


    Den removed his outer robe, handing it to a wide-eyed Nora. "Father," she whispered, "be careful. There''s something not right about him."


    I pretended not to hear as I took my position on the tform. Across from me, Den assumed a fighting stance, his body radiating the focused energy of a true master. The difference between his presence and Lucas''s was immediately apparent—where Lucas had been merely talented, Den was formidable.


    "Are you certain you wish to continue with this?" he asked, his voice deceptively calm. "I will not hold back simply because you are young and foolish."


    I tilted my head slightly. "Neither will I."


    The referee, looking distinctly ufortable at being caught in this high-stakes confrontation, raised his hand. "Fighters ready?"


    Den nodded grimly. I simply smiled.


    "Begin!"


    The gymnasium held its collective breath as Den and I faced each other, the air between us charged with tension. In his eyes, I could see the calction of a predator—and the first flicker of uncertainty as he realized I wasn''t showing even a trace of fear.