Chapter 308
The referee’s voice sliced sharply through the tense air, holding up an official- looking paper.
“We’ve received an update,” he declared, eyes cold and detached.
“Miss Kelly Kingston has officially taken citizenship and the governor’s role in Vermont. According to our rules, she can’t represent Vancouver in this sacred duel between states. Therefore, Kelly Kingston is disqualified p>
A stunned hush swallowed the arena, quickly replaced by angry murmurs and gasps of disbelief.
“Kingstons,” the referee continued, savoring the drama, “you’ve got two fights left to turn this around. Choose wisely. Your next fighter must step into the ring in ten minutes or you lose by default p>
Before Jasmine could utter a word, a tall, arrogant figure swaggered from the Chicago side, armored gauntlet gleaming menacingly.
He sneered openly at the Vancouver corner, raising his voice mockingly, “Hey, Vancouver! Where’s your courage now? Step up if you’ve got the guts, or run home with your tails tucked between your legs p>
From the shadows emerged an unexpected figure, confidently striding forward.
“I’ll represent the Kingstons,” he proclaimed boldly.
The referee quickly hid his smirk, eager for more chaos.
“Begin!” he shouted.
But as Jasmine and Kelly finally glimpsed the new fighter’s face, dread flooded their expressions.
Charles Kingston.
Before Jasmine could scream, Charles raised his hand dramatically. “I surrender p>
“That cowardly snake!” Jasmine roared furiously, her voice cracking with rage. “Who let Charles anywhere near our arena p>
Charles turned theatrically towards the crowd, arms wide as if embracing their disdain.
“Listen up!” he shouted triumphantly.
“Why fight Chicago? It’s clearly stronger, richer, and far superior to Vancouver! Let’s stop being stubborn fools—join Chicago willingly, and I’ll become your sixth lord of Chicago. Imagine prosperity and power instead of this pitiful independence p>
Jasmine stormed toward the referee, her fury barely restrained. “That traitor doesn’t speak for Vancouver p>
The referee shrugged dismissively, clearly enjoying her torment.
“You never clarified your fighters beforehand. Now that you ask—sure, I’ll
acknowledge your refusal for the next-but the match is done p>
Laughter exploded from Zane and the Chicago Lords, cruel and loud.
“Poor Jasmine,” Zane mocked. “One chance left. Better pick carefully-if there’s anyone left worth fighting for you. Clock’s ticking, sweetheart p>
Jasmine’s jaw tightened painfully as despair knotted her insides.
Chicago had been meticulously stabbing them in the back, poisoning her best fighters.
Ten minutes to find someone capable of facing Chicago’s elite knights felt like a cruel joke.
“Tick-tock!” jeered a Chicago lord. “What’s it gonna be, Kingston? Admit defeat and bow graciously p>
More mocking voices rose:
“Seems like the mighty Kingstons fell right into Chicago’s trap p>
“Poisoned fighters-what a perfect, humiliating defeat! Or maybe they’re just
making up an excuse to avoid fighting the Goliath p>
“Face it: strength rules, and Vancouver never had any p>
The spectators’ murmurs swung wildly between pity, excitement, and outright glee at Vancouver’s downfall.
Victoria leaned toward Jasmine, eyes critical yet oddly amused.
“Maybe we should accept it. Give up gracefully, Jasmine. We could turn this disaster into a good alliance-give Chicago Alex’s share, and call it diplomacy.” Jasmine bit her lip fiercely, her silence deafening as turmoil churned within her. The world around her blurred with desperation and anger, her heart crying out for a hero-someone, anyone, who could salvage this catastrophic night.
“Ms. Kingston!” The referee barked sharply, irritation clear in his voice.
“Are you even sending someone into the ring? Quit stalling and admit you’ve lost p>
“Yeah, Kingston! Enough with the games-just forfeit already!” The Chicago Lords members jeered, their mocking voices filling the arena.
The Kingston side burned silently, their faces twisted in quiet frustration.
Suddenly, a powerful voice cut through the mockery. “I’ll fight p>
Every head swiveled, eyes narrowing suspiciously as a figure pushed through the crowd.
He stepped forward confidently,
sporting dark sunglasses, a plain mask covering his face, and a bright blue uniform from Vancouver’s cleaning service, topped off with an incongruous matching cap.
“Who the hell is this joker?” someone scoffed from the sidelines.
Chicago’s fighter laughed harshly, shaking his head with pure disdain.
“Are you serious right now? You-a damn janitor-think you can face me? Who the hell gave you the guts to step into arena p>
In the tense silence, Jasmine immediately recognized Alex beneath the disguise.
Her breath hitched with a pang of worry. She moved swiftly, discreetly leaning in to whisper,
“Alex, don’t risk it. If they want our stocks, let them take it. You’re more important than any of this p>
Alex flashed a calm smile beneath his mask, his voice steady and firm.
“Relax, Jasmine. I won’t let them touch a single share, and our pride isn’t for sale p>
Without another word, he walked boldly into the fighting ring, radiating quiet confidence.
He hadn’t planned to fight, but standing aside now would mean betraying everything Vancouver stood for.
“Kelly,” Jasmine whispered anxiously, turning toward her, eyes pleading for intervention. “Aren’t you going to stop him p>
Kelly smirked knowingly, eyes glittering with assured confidence.
“Don’t worry. In this country, he’s unstoppable. These arrogant fools won’t even make him sweat p>
Down by the ring, Zane burst into a mocking howl of laughter.
“A janitor? Seriously? He must have a death wish. Who walks willingly into a slaughterhouse p>
Not far off, Jaxon crossed his arms, a cold smirk tugging at his lips.
“He is either painfully patriotic or just plain dumb. And I’m betting on dumb. Looks
like Kingston’s down to scraping the bottom of the barrel p>
Clara sneered viciously, barely containing her excitement.
“Oh, this will be priceless. Watching a janitor get demolished is exactly the humiliation the Kingstons deserve p>
Bryson gaped in disbelief, shaking his head slowly.
“Did this guy miss what happened to Damme? Even he got destroyed, and this nobody thinks he stands a chance p>
The referee impatiently glanced at his watch, already dreaming about the stack of cash waiting for him and the company he’d soon share it with in some sleazy bar.
He raised a hand and barked, “Enough stalling! Start the damn fight p>
Alex moved forward calmly, stepping into the center of the arena.
Every pair of eyes locked onto him, their breaths held in confused anticipation.
But the hulking fighter from Chicago stood frozen, limbs rigid as iron, face stricken with confusion and fear.
Alex sauntered closer, stopping mere inches away, his voice smooth and unnervingly calm.
“You look exhausted, friend. How about you take a nap p>
Inét
Suddenly, as if commanded by an invisible force, the fighter’s eyes rolled back, his knees buckled, and he crumpled to the ground like a puppet whose strings had been cut.
The arena erupted into stunned silence.
The referee’s jaw hung slack, disbelief etched deep into his face. Spectators stared in shock, mouths
agape, unable to comprehend the impossible event they’d just witnessed.
Nothing made sense. Nothing at all.