Sheldon
It was hard to distinguish whether I was acting for the crowd or I was putting in more effort than usual as I sat on the sidelines waiting for my turn. Back straightened, my eyes in a squint, and my facial expression neutral so that I seemed less detestable. There was a difference between being disliked as a villain and being disliked for being yourself.
The girl that I seemed to be facing had a large physique that didn't match her height. I could only assume since she was the only one with her full name written on her jersey with the number eleven printed underneath it. She was lifting a weight while she patiently waited for her turn but quickly abandoned it as she noticed it was closer to her time.
"Really? A girl with just super strength?" I muttered to myself. "They as well have paired me with a person whose best battle strategy was to split up."
I just needed to do strategy plan number eighty-seven on this girl and the fight will be over quickly. Once this was done, I could focus on better things.
The girl seemed to have noticed my stare and got up from her seat. She made her way toward me and I noticed how defined her muscles were. There was a pang of envy but I quickly pushed it out of my consciousness.
"It's a pleasure to meet you." The girl seemed oblivious to my hostile demeanor or was hiding her distaste very well. "I've never fought a professional before. I'm looking forward to our match."
"Okay."
She seemed taken aback by my response before letting out a tinkling laugh. "Wow, you act just like a villain. You're so good at this."
My eyebrow twitched. "Excuse me?"
"Fighters to centre stage!" Loudmouth gave an expectant look to both of us.
There was a brief awkward glance before we both headed towards our places.
Our shuffles would've been heard by everyone if the crowd wasn't so rowdy but the energy was buzzing around the bleachers ever since Haresa had won the match. The last round had gone by so fast that no one could see it coming. Literally. It was a whirlwind and the distinct sound of fists hitting a body before the boy crumbled to the ground.
It seemed like they were willing to even throw the match earlier but something seemed to have set them off. Their eyes no longer seemed like the eyes of the prey-like hare I was used to seeing but rather a predator.
"Round one! Start!" The bell went off and the girl wasted no time.
The floor beneath me began to ripple and my legs almost gave out underneath me before I even took a hit.
My eyes snapped to the girl and my body was hunched over, ready to take action.
Strategy plan number eighty-seven has to be scrapped it seemed and it had to be replaced.
Her foot came down onto the floor, making it ripple a second time.
That plan was a default plan that I had executed a handful of times and was fairly reliable.
I spun around and tucked my elbows into my body.
That plan was to run away.
The crowd began to boo instantly but I didn't let that bother me as I was sprinting away from the girl.
What was her power exactly?
She grabbed the rope of the ring and it responded to her touch by following the same ripple effect that the floor had earlier. It wasn't very fast but my heart really wasn't in the match.
The rope looped around my ankle and I was dragged towards the girl. The rope had managed to wriggle itself to surround my waist as it moved me and I tried to free myself by tugging at it.
I took a deep breath and made a tiny shield between the rope and my ankle, setting me free.
The girl clearly didn't expect me to still be able to fight in this position as my foot connected to her throat in a diagonal kick.
She reeled back in a coughing fit and I took my chance to stand on my feet.
She came back in full swing, the ground rippled again and I found myself jumping up and down as if I was on a trampoline. Before she could move, I tackled her to the ground and held her limbs down. I raised my fist ready to knock her own cold before I stopped myself.
If I won this match, I would have to do another. Why was I fighting so hard to win the match?
Before I could process my psychological problem, the roof tore into two.
There were a lot of screams.
The stage lights were overshadowed by the blinding lights from what sounded to be a helicopter hovering over the arena.
"This is a robbery! Not your average kind, but no one has to be concerned about us stealing their valuables!" A familiar voice rang out.
My body tensed and I felt like throwing up. It couldn't have been Reynard, could it?
There was a loud thump as someone landed on the stage and I saw a figure twirling a wooden baton. The bottom half of the intruder's face was obscured with a bandanna and the largest elbow-length welder gloves I've ever seen covered any inch of visible skin.
"Don't worry," the person said. "This won't take long."