Max had answered the question loud enough that the other students overheard him. Even those from Konsoon froze in disbelief at the number he’d ntioned.
The students from Konsoon mostly ca from middle-class families. Sure, they had so spending money here and there, but ten thousand? That was an insane amount, especially hearing it thrown around so casually by soone their age.
Already, the students were starting to imagine what they could do with that kind of cash. A new bike? A trip abroad? Maybe their own gaming setup? The possibilities were endless. And now, they understood exactly why Mayson had decided to stand up again.
"Heck, man, what the, !" Crondo exclaid. "For 10k? Throw in there! I’d happily take a few punches. That lucky guy!"
Although the other students were thinking Mayson was lucky, he didn’t feel that way at all. His head was pounding like a drum, the pain radiating through his skull. Still, he kept his eye on the prize. This might be the only ti in his life he’d ever have the chance to make money this easily.
"You’re standing up? You’re really standing up just to get hit again?" Rick snapped, spinning around, fury written all over his face.
As he charged forward, he threw a punch, this ti, launching it from underneath, putting his entire body behind the motion.
Mayson instinctively covered up, raising his hands to block, but just like before, it wasn’t enough. Rick’s punch blasted through his guard and slamd straight into his stomach.
The breath was knocked out of Mayson. He dropped to his knees instantly, a string of saliva trailing from his mouth before his entire body collapsed to the side.
Rick, having let out a bit more of his frustration, turned around, his shoulders rising and falling with his breath.
’I guess two hits is enough. That should make us even.’
He took only a few steps before stopping. His eyes swept the crowd, Clapton students and even so from the rival school, all staring at him in stunned silence.
Turning his head, Rick felt a chill crawl down his spine.
His worst fear had co true.
Mayson was still standing. His arms hung limp by his sides, spit trailing from the corner of his mouth, and yet, he was upright.
"That’s... that’s two..." Mayson mumbled, his voice raspy but firm.
"Crap!" one of the students shouted. "Is he going up against so kind of zombie or what?"
"No kidding! That’s two of Rick’s punches. I’ve seen people drop from just one, but this guy, he took both, full force, and he’s still getting up!"
"No wonder Bekert had trouble with these Konsoon guys," another added. "Grammar school or not, they’re tough as nails!"
"Gi... I guess you were right about him."
But Gi didn’t respond. He remained still, his gaze locked on Mayson, eyes narrowed with a strange intensity. He had never seen Mayson try this hard at anything, not in school, not in sports, not in anything. And yet, here he was.
Inside the cage, Mayson wiped the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand.
’That’s twenty... twenty grand. I can do this. I can take a few more hits, right?’
His thoughts were racing, not from fear, but from fire.
’How many tis have I listened to my parents complain? "As long as you live under our roof, you follow our rules." I’ve had enough of that. I hate studying, I suck at it! All I’ve ever wanted was to focus on my art. So yeah, maybe I lashed out. Maybe I ssed up. But if I can take these hits and walk away with that kind of money... I can finally start sothing. I can finally be . I won’t have to rely on anyone else. This is my shot at independence.’
’I’ll stand up a hundred tis if I have to. I’ll earn my damn payday.’
As that thought rooted itself in his mind, a small grin crept across Mayson’s face, bloody and bruised, but defiant. It was the kind of smile that made so of the watching students shift nervously on their feet. There was sothing unsettling about it. Sothing real.
Max, standing near the edge of the cage, couldn’t help but smirk to himself. His bet, his calculated risk, was already proving worthwhile.
He’d taken down Gi with two clean hits. That had flipped the narrative.
Now, if Rick wanted to match that kind of impact, to tilt the montum back in his favor, he had to do the sa. But it was too late.
It would take three hits to bring Mayson down now, no matter what.
But more than anyone expected, it was Mayson’s willpower that was leaving the strongest impression of all.
’Sure, the payout’s going to shave off a bit of my strength,’ Max thought to himself, arms casually crossed, ’but it won’t matter. The tradeoff is worth it. The morale boost, the ntal damage this is doing to Rick... it’s already paying dividends.’
Then, without warning, Rick dashed across the cage. With fire in his eyes and fury driving his every step, he launched into the air and threw out a Superman punch, his body flying forward as his fist crashed hard into Mayson’s jaw.
The impact was explosive. Mayson’s body tumbled, rolling across the floor like a ragdoll.
Gasps echoed across the gym.
But before anyone could call it over, Mayson was already pushing himself up off the ground again.
Groaning, shaking, bleeding, but rising.
His face was battered and swollen from the relentless blows, barely recognizable now, yet his eyes held a dangerous clarity.
Rick stood frozen. He was in absolute disbelief. He couldn’t rember the last ti he’d hit soone that hard, let alone three tis, and they’d gotten back up every single ti.
What was driving this guy?
"Three tis... he’s gotten up three tis, hasn’t he?" Crondo asked, narrowing his eyes and shifting his gaze toward Max. "Doesn’t that an he’s earned thirty grand now?"
He crossed his arms, trying to mask the growing unease in his chest. But it wasn’t working.
Because now, even Max was starting to get slightly nervous.
’He’s not just getting up... he’s getting up easy. This, this is the power of money?’ he thought, swallowing hard. ’Is this how much it can push soone beyond their limits? Just how far is this guy willing to go? And more importantly... how much is this going to cost ?’
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