CHAPTER 41: ARTHUR, YOU ARE GOING TO FIGHT?

The crowd’s noise started fading now—not because they were tired, but because everyone knew what was coming for them. The final match.

Ryan slowly walked out of the restroom; as he started walking in the hallway, his steps were slow and composed. He brushed off the dust from his shoulder; the sound of his shoes echoed faintly in the empty halls. His ribs were hurting like they could crumble any second now, his arms ached, and his muscles were completely sore.

He stepped back into the main ground. The bright lights hit him again, reflecting off the polished mat. The Boxing Club’s dugout sat quietly on the side—the calm before the storm.

Arthur stood next to the wall, back leaned against it, arms crossed next to his chest.

"You’re back," Arthur said flatly without looking towards him. "Took you longer than expected."

RyaHe stretched his arms lazily as he scratched the back of his neck slowly. "Yeah... Uh, I was caught up in something, you know. Nothing serious though, don’t worry about it."

Arthur gave a slow side glance, unimpressed but uninterested. "Caught up in something, huh? You’re always caught up in something, excuses."

Ryan opened his mouth as he thought twice before speaking. "Arthur.. I want to ask you something about—"

But before he could complete his sentence, the loudspeaker buzzed to life again as the announcer’s voice came through—loud.

"Ladies and Gentlemen!" The announcer’s voice rang across the arena as the crowd stirred again, full of excitement.

"The final match of today’s Inter-School Tournament will now begin! The fight between the Boxing Club and the Kickboxing Club!"

The crowd slowly erupted with shouts again, stamping their feet on the ground aggressively, screaming names. The tension slowly rose through the air like thunder.

Ryan slowly turned his head towards the stage; his pulse jumped. This was it.

"Representatives from each club, I request them to come up to the stage!" the announcer continued.

Ryan looked at Arthur immediately as his voice came out of his mouth. "Arthur, are you going to step up?"

Arthur didn’t move and didn’t even reply back to Ryan’s question. His eyes were fixed on the ring, expression unreadable as ever. Then a shadow moved on the opposite end.

From the Kickboxing Club’s side, a tall figure stepped onto the mat. He didn’t just walk—he commanded the floor; each of his steps was calculated.

He wore a tight, sleeveless black tee; his arms were toned, and veins were completely visible beneath his skin. Black gym pants clung to his athletic frame as the faint stretch of his muscles showed through them.

His hair—dark, messy, slightly longer on top—swayed as he moved. His face carried a calm, confident smile, the kind that wasn’t arrogance... it was certainty.

The crowd started to whisper about him, some even gasping. "That’s him... the No. 1 of the Kickboxing Club."

Arthur exhaled slowly and finally stepped forward, walking towards the stage. His shoes clicked against the mat—steps were unhurried and deliberate.

Ryan blinked as he questioned Arthur. "Just like that, you’re going to the match?"

Arthur didn’t look back, didn’t even reply, and was focused as usual.

Ryan frowned. "Wait—him? You mean..."

[Yes, host,]

The system’s voice echoed in his mind.

He’s referring to that kickboxing guy. That’s the one Arthur meant.]

Ryan nodded slowly, watching as Arthur climbed onto the ring. "This... this is going to be one hell of a fight."

[Perhaps the best match today,]

the system replied.

The announcer didn’t waste any second as he lifted his mic up again, his voice almost trembling with excitement.

"From the side of the Kickboxing Club, we have their captain, Leon Krais!"

The crowd then burst into loud cheers and applause. The girls screamed his name, and even boys had the look of admiration in their eyes.

Leon raised his hand in the air, doing a wave-like gesture to greet them all. He turned his head to look at Arthur. "So, you’re finally going to fight now, huh?"

Arthur didn’t answer as he just simply rolled his shoulder back, loosened his neck, and got into stance.

The crowd’s energy hit its peak—two school legends standing face to face.

Ryan could barely breathe. His palms were sweating, heart racing. "They... they look like pros."

The referee dropped his hand, giving the signal to begin the match.

"Begin!" His voice came out loud.

The bell echoed.

The two of them didn’t charge in—not right away. They circled each other first, silent, calculating.

Leon was the first to strike—a fast, snappy low kick aimed at Arthur’s calf. Arthur barely tilted his body, and the kick brushed past his leg, slicing through the air.

Leon didn’t stop as he continued with his next move right away. A quick step forward, a feint to the right, and then came a spinning back kick.

Arthur ducked low—his movement was sharp and mechanical—and then jabbed at Leon’s ribs, forcing him to pivot back.

The sound of the impact was so loud that it echoed through the arena. The crowd roared.

’’They’re... so fucking fast.’’ Ryan thought, eyes wide. He couldn’t follow half of their movements in time. ’This isn’t like any other fight which happened today... this is something else.’

[Their league is completely different, host.]

[Watch carefully and learn.]

The exchange of the moves continued—jab, counter, pivot, knee, block—both fighters feeling each other out.

Then the rhythm of the match suddenly shifted.

Leon smirked as he hit Arthur with a taunt. "That’s all, Arthur? You’re just defending. I came here to fight, not dance, you know?"

Arthur didn’t respond. His expression remained blank, focused.

Leon stepped in fast, throwing a quick one-two jab followed by a high roundhouse.

Arthur slipped past the first, raised his arm in time, and caught his leg mid-air—gripping Leon’s shin mid-swing.

The crowd gasped.

Arthur’s counter came instantly—he twisted his hip, pulling Leon off balance, then drove a short cross into his shoulder before letting go.

Leon slid back, rolling his neck with a grin. "Hah... that’s it. That’s what I came here for; that’s the kind of Arthur I love fighting with," Leon said as he brushed the dust off his clothes.

Ryan couldn’t blink. Each exchange was surgical—the timing of the moves was completely perfect, perfect spacing. No wasted moves.

The match picked up. Leon started hitting Arthur with multiple moves— low kicks, elbows, and punches chained with precision.

Arthur simply continued to parry each one of them. When Leon tried to sweep, Arthur pivoted; when Leon feinted, Arthur read it before it came.

It was like Arthur could see his rhythm.

Ryan whispered under his breath, "How... how can someone react like that?"