After my match with Kaiya, I stayed in my seat. I wanted to see the rest of the quarterfinals—not just to kill time, but because the more I knew about the others, the better I could prepare for what was coming.
Match 2 was Kenta Yumiya against Taro Inoue. On paper, it looked like a stamina-type versus a speed-type, but Taro's Cyclone Wyvern variant didn't give Kenta a second to breathe. Wyvern was practically bouncing between attacks, hammering Sagittario from every angle. Still, Kenta didn't flinch. He kept Sagittario in tight control, using the stadium's ridges to absorb hits without losing spin. Every time Taro tried to line up a finishing blow, Sagittario slipped out of the way by inches. In the end, Taro's high-speed movement drained his own spin, and Sagittario outlasted him. Kenta's win was clean, but I could tell it hadn't been easy.
Match 3 had Gideon Voss against Riku Asahara. This one was different. Riku came in with an aggressive smash-attack style, clearly trying to overwhelm Gideon early. But Gideon was like a wall—every attack seemed to slide right off his defense-type Beyblade. He barely moved from the center of the stadium, letting Riku exhaust himself. Then, without warning, Gideon shifted into a counter-offensive, landing a single, perfectly-timed hit that sent Riku's Beyblade over the edge. Cold, efficient, and over in less than a minute.
Match 4 was Daisuke Hayami versus Ryo Kanza. Both were attack specialists, and their match was pure chaos. The sound of their collisions was louder than anything I'd heard all day. They traded hit after hit, neither giving an inch, until Ryo's balance finally broke. Daisuke's final strike launched him out of the stadium in a clean arc.
By the time all four matches were done, the tournament staff wheeled out the updated bracket on the big board.
Semifinal Bracket:
Match 1: Ethan Kael vs. Gideon Voss
Match 2: Kenta Yumiya vs. Daisuke Hayami
The crowd's noise spiked instantly. Gideon had barely been touched in his quarterfinal, and I was the one standing across from him next. My eyes went to the opposite side of the bracket—Kenta and Daisuke would have their own storm to deal with, and either one could be waiting in the finals.
From the stands, I spotted Gideon across the arena. He was looking at the bracket too, but when his eyes slid toward me, his expression didn't change. No smirk, no taunt—just the same unreadable stare he'd worn during his match. The kind that made it hard to tell if he was underestimating me or had already mapped out every move I might make.
The announcer's voice cut over the speakers:
"The semifinals will take place tomorrow, starting at 11 AM sharp! Don't miss it!"
Tomorrow. That meant one night to prepare for someone who barely flinched even under heavy attack.
I glanced down at Snake in my hand. The Abyssal Vortex had carried me through today, but against Gideon, I'd need more than just timing. He was the type who waited for mistakes—and I couldn't afford to give him one.
***
The crowd was still buzzing as people filed out of the arena, talking about the matches they'd just seen. I slipped out through one of the side exits, avoiding the crush near the main doors. My head was still running through Gideon's match—how patient he'd been, how he'd waited like a predator until the perfect moment. If I was going to win tomorrow, I'd need to keep control from start to finish.
I was halfway down the stone steps when I heard someone call out.
"Ethan!"
I turned to see Kenta weaving through a small group of bladers, his green hair easy to pick out in the crowd. He jogged the last few steps toward me, Flame Sagittario's launcher clipped to his belt.
"You looked solid out there," he said, stopping a couple feet away. His usual easy smile was there, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Kaiya's not an easy opponent."
"You handled Taro pretty well yourself," I replied. "He looked like he was trying to chase you into the ground."
Kenta laughed softly. "That's Taro for you—always thinks speed will save him. You just have to let him run out of gas." He paused, then his expression shifted, losing the friendly tone. "But tomorrow… it's going to be different."
I already knew where this was going, but I let him say it.
"Gideon isn't like the others. He won't come at you head-on unless he's sure it'll land. He'll just… wait. And if you get impatient, even for a second, he'll take the whole match right there."
His words were steady, not meant to scare me, but there was weight behind them. I remembered the way Gideon had ended his match with a single hit.
"I've noticed," I said, keeping my voice even. "Doesn't mean I can't break through it."
That earned me a slight smirk from Kenta. "Confident, huh? Just make sure it's not overconfidence." He stepped past me, then looked back over his shoulder. "I want to face you in the finals, not watch you get knocked out in the semis. So… be ready."
With that, he headed off toward the main street, blending into the stream of people.
I stood there for a moment, the late afternoon sun cutting across the road. His words stuck in my mind—not because I didn't believe I could win, but because he was right. This wasn't going to be like Kaiya or the other bladers I'd faced today.
Gideon wouldn't give me openings; I'd have to take them. And the moment I showed him something predictable, it would be over.
I tightened my grip on Snake's case at my side and started walking. Tomorrow was the real test, and I wasn't planning on stopping here.