“... will activate it’s effect. My ability is called Stolen Breath,” Bahawin finally finishes his explanation.
Suddenly, a glowing number “0” appears above Alex’s head. When he takes his next breath, the number immediately changes to “1.”
SHIT. I’LL KILL THIS CORRUPT REFEREE! I HOPE IT WAS WORTH IT! Alex curses inwardly, his frustration and fury boiling over as he instinctively holds his breath.
Despite Alex’s earlier demand and charge, the referee calmly turns back to Bahawin, completely ignoring Alex’s outrage. “Bahawin… are you ready now? I still need your answer! Please respond within one minute, or I’ll be forced to penalize you.”
ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? Alex can’t believe what he’s hearing. If this keeps up, I’ll lose the fight before I even get a chance to fight back!
Alex’s rage reaches its peak, and without meaning to, he activates Mustrano’s Malice Mauler lvl 3, unleashing a terrifying surge of Aura. The sinister energy radiates outward, its dark hue enhanced by Mustrano, who shares Alex’s raw emotion of pure, unfiltered rage.
The referee visibly falters under the oppressive weight of Alex’s aura, his confidence shaken. Despite this, he begins to count down the time, trying to maintain composure.
Meanwhile, Alex struggles to calm himself, but his anger gets the better of him. He’s breathing too fast, and the number above his head quickly climbs to “11.”
Damn it! This rage, combined with conjuring Mustrano, is making me breathe like crazy while this robed cheater hasn’t taken a single breath. This has to be his gimmick. One of his lungs is missing, and his remaining lung is probably highly trained. His ability is dangerous and could probably instantly win him the fight. Stolen Breath sounds ominous.
If the referee doesn’t start the fight in a few minutes, I’ll risk it—I’ll kill them both if I have to, Alex decides grimly, his mind racing for a solution.
Finally, as the referee approaches the 60-second mark, Bahawin speaks again: “I am not ready. My shoe is untied. Give me a minute!”
“CHEATER! ANNOUNCER! ANNOUNCER, HE’S CHEATING! THE REFEREE IS ON HIS SIDE, BUYING HIM TIME!” Alex screams at the top of his lungs, trying to shift the pressure onto the referee.
The referee, now sweating visibly, loudly responds, “I am always impartial! Fighter Alex Kerber, I will penalize you with 1 point for this unjust accusation. Bahawin, you have 1 minute to tie your shoe. After that, the fight will either begin, or I’ll compensate your opponent with a point for every additional delay!”
This unbelievable scumbag.
Alex grits his teeth, seething with rage. One point deducted at a time is probably enough to buy him another 10 minutes. I’m already at 17 breaths. I need to calm down and devise a strategy.Feeling the pressure, Alex takes a step forward, directly approaching the referee. He unleashes a fresh surge of Aura, more sinister than before, and glares at the referee with murderous intent. Slowly, he raises his hand and gestures a deliberate throat-slitting motion right in front of the referee’s face.
The referee flinches, his confidence crumbling further. Alex takes it a step further—he places a hand firmly on the referee’s shoulder and squeezes hard. The referee winces in pain, a faint yelp escaping his lips as Alex’s grip tightens.
“ONE MORE POINT DEDUCTION! HOW DARE YOU THREATEN A REFEREE!” the referee shouts, his voice trembling with anger.
Meanwhile, the moderator provides comedic commentary, her tone laced with mockery and sarcasm. “Could fighter Alex Kerber be right? Is this referee biased and intentionally delaying the fight? We all know the 200 class fighters often have unique abilities! Maybe this referee should be on the list for replacement.”
The crowd erupts in boos, and the referee, shaken by the escalating criticism, speeds up his countdown slightly.
Alex, staying silent, focuses entirely on conserving energy and breathing as few times as possible. He even enters Zetsu, calming his body and suppressing his Aura, minimizing energy consumption. The number above his head slowly climbs to 25.
Time drags on. One minute passes. Then two minutes. Three minutes. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine minutes. Bahawin has now received nine penalties for stalling, and the audience grows louder with every second.
Despite Bahawin’s delaying tactics, Alex is still at just 45 on his counter—55 points away from triggering Stolen Breath. Bahawin, however, is beginning to sweat profusely under the pressure.
The referee, now sweating like a pig as well, from the constant boos of the crowd and the relentless jabs from the moderator, finally speaks up, his voice cracking: “Bahawin, if you’re not ready now, I’m sorry, but I’ll have to deduct one more point. If that happens, you will lose.”
Bahawin, desperate, signals to someone in the audience.
Before the referee can proceed, a commotion breaks out. A group of spectators enters the ring, waving bizarre banners with accusations and slander against Alex. The signs bear outlandish claims, accusing Alex of cheating, committing crimes, and even keeping female sex slaves. Some banners allege that Alex uses his Hunter license to get away with unspeakable acts.
Despite the chaotic scene and his rising anger, Alex forces himself to remain calm. It’s decision-making time, he thinks, assessing the situation. I don’t know how many more interruptions, or in this case, outright cheats, this bastard has planned. I could lose this fight and maybe find another opponent… but there probably won’t be too many fighters willing to take me on. That means I’ll have a problem because I can’t wait 90 days. No… I need to win this fight.
Alex glances at his left arm, where Mustrano still burns brightly, steam hissing and swirling around his hand. He speaks to the conjured entity in his mind: Okay, last try. If this doesn’t work, we go all out and kill them both.
With calculated steps, Alex walks toward Bahawin, locking eyes with him. Bahawin meets his gaze with a huge, smug smile, his expression infuriatingly calm.
NOW! Alex thinks, but instead of attacking, he slowly opens his left hand, turns and walks back—this time toward the referee.
The disrupters continue parading their banners, shouting accusations, but Alex ignores them completely. He stops directly in front of the referee, his Aura intensifying.
In that moment, [Commander Shepard’s Dog Tag] activates. Alex’s eyes begin to glow a fiery red, radiating a menacing, otherworldly light.