Chapter 173: A Clash of Rivals
The Interracial Tournament thundered on, its format shifting once again. The chaotic, synergy-driven 2v2 battles of Phase 3 were over, having whittled down the countless contenders to a more elite group. Now, Phase 4 began—a pure, unadulterated test of individual might. It was a brutal, single-elimination 1v1 bracket spanning a grueling thirty-one rounds. Out of the untold trillions who had initially entered, only the most formidable two billion combatants remained.
The stakes were higher, the battles more personal, and the entire multiverse was watching.
In the safehouse at Zenith Vista, the atmosphere was particularly focused. Kai and Moon were not just casual observers today; they were students of war, analyzing every move from their living room. But they were far from alone in their scrutiny. Across the human sphere, and beyond, screens were tuned to the same channel.
In her own training hall, Ruby had paused her training, her eyes glued to the holographic display. Beside her, Minji watched with a nervous intensity. James sitting on his Sofa , In a high-tech garage , Taejin had halted their modifications to a hover-engine, the live feed mirrored on a large toolbench screen. Even the reclusive, often emotionally distant Drew was watching, his Saint-Slayer suit temporarily forgotten as he observed the match with a critical eye. And in a quiet, isolated chamber, the being known as Rejected Winter—Abhishek—observed, his cold, calculating gaze taking in every detail.
They were all watching. From the upper echelons of human society to the very fighters who had shared battlefields and burdens, attention was converged on a single arena.
The reason for this universal focus was the matchup itself.
This was not just another fight. This was Thomas Grey vs. Sam Lee.
Two legends of the human race, two powerhouses whose names were spoken with respect and awe, were now standing across from each other in the sacred combat grounds. The arena itself was packed to capacity, a roaring sea of spectators from a thousand different races. The energy was palpable, even through the broadcast feed. Millions more watched via livestream, their collective breath held.
In the center of it all, Thomas Grey and Sam Lee stood poised. They were not just opponents; they were rivals, their history a long and complicated tapestry of clashes and mutual respect. The air between them crackled with unspent power, a silent promise of the devastation about to be unleashed. The entire human community, for this moment, was united in a single, breathless question: Who would prevail when the unstoppable force met the immovable object?
In the final, breathless moments before the combat siren was set to blare, a hush had begun to settle over the colossal arena. Billions of eyes were fixed on the two figures standing at the epicenter of the staged battlefield. It was in this pregnant silence that Thomas Grey's voice, calm and familiar, cut through the tension.
His eyes, sharp and observant even amidst the overwhelming pressure, had caught a minute detail. A faint, almost imperceptible slackness in his rival's stance.
Thomas: "Dude, your zip's hanging loose."
It wasn't a taunt. It was a reflex, a fragment of a deeply ingrained habit from a thousand sparring sessions past—a fighter's instinct to ensure his rival was at his best, even moments before they tried to knock each other out.
Sam Lee didn't even glance down. A slow, razor-sharp grin spread across his face. He met Thomas's gaze, his own eyes flashing with competitive fire. His reply was swift, dripping with a挑衅 (tiǎoxìn - provocative) confidence that instantly redefined the moment.
Sam Lee: "Fine — taste mine if you've got the juice."
The crowd erupted. The sheer audacity, the perfect blend of vulgarity and threat, sent a wave of roaring laughter and cheers through the stands. The tension shattered, replaced by electric anticipation.
But for Thomas and Sam, the laughter was just background noise. The shared, almost imperceptible smirk that passed between them held a universe of meaning. Only the two of them truly understood the weight this match carried. This was not just another tournament bracket. This was the culmination of a rivalry forged in their teenage years, a lifelong series of unofficial spars, tied matches, and unfinished arguments. Every punch thrown in dusty schoolyards, every stalemate in secret training grounds, had all been leading to this single, sanctioned moment under the gaze of the entire multiverse.
All the past was a prelude. This was going to decide, once and for all, who was the most powerful.
To be continued….