Almost all the audience—their eyes locked upon Boksa—goggled with the watchfulness of immense proportions, further rooting themselves to their seats.
If the danger had a face, it would have resembled Boksa's current countenance, for his face swam in the sea of rage and thoroughly soaked itself. The towering temper that over-exuded out of every single pore on his skin whispered a warning to the ones in the vicinity.
“This Number 28... what has he done?” one man among the audience clutched the arm of the one next to him as goosebumps trailed over his spine. "He's gonna get killed for sure now."
“U-Uncle Piggy? Did he say what I think he did?’” another man was bewildered as he riveted his eyes on Lirzod. “That boy... just how long is his spine!”
“It’s unmistakably touching the clouds!” someone else hollered in a stupor.
“No,” a different man whooped a cough, “it’s not just touching the clouds but piercing right through them with no end in sight!”
“Still, he's a goner," another man bellowed. "Now that he brought such shame to Brown Hill, he’s done for!”
“Indeed. I doubt even if a Corporal can contain this mountain’s rampage. That boy’s fate is sealed.”
One man let worry pucker his brow as he spoke, “It was one thing if there were only men in the hall, but that red-haired girl had a front-row seat for the show her bodyguard performed. There's simply no way Brown Hill is going to let that boy live now! I wouldn’t be surprised if he punches him to oblivion.”
Even the referee and the assistant referee had their eyes glued to Boksa as would rabbits do as they unaffectedly watch a wolf hunt one of their kind.
Hundred left his mouth wide open and wasn't bothered even when a fly took a tour inside.
"Kah-haha," Tarkan, on the other hand, giggled like a chimp. “I like that boy.”
However, Hundred wasn’t at all impressed with Tarkan’s words just as he wasn’t—with Lirzod’s actions.
Boksa ground his teeth so hard that he would have pulverized rocks if they were in between his teeth. “You little piece of shit...” He raised his hand—a substitute trunk of an elephant, or at least what it appeared to be—as high as it could reach and whipped it down at Lirzod. “Die!”
Waves shaped up at the water surface underneath his arm, following its trail as it stormed into Lirzod, who ducked down and dipped his head into the water as fast as a swan would, thereby dodging the attack by the skin of his teeth. A stream of water gushed out as Boksa’s hand perforated through the water surface, sprinkling cold rain on many people standing to his left.
“Hill Drill!” without going for another breath, Boksa straight away unleashed the other fist at Lirzod who was swimming away—chest facing toward the ceiling—while hidden underwater, but the attack was just a bit hurried, for it ended up scraping past the inner thighs and smashed into the icy ground between his legs. The impact opened up a hollow space in the water, revealing the broken ice shards for a brief moment, but more importantly, it also gave momentum to Lirzod, who made great use of the waves and swam enough distance, albeit he ended up swimming toward the entrance of the ice dumpster.
Hundred’s heart had almost stopped from what he witnessed, “If that Brown Hill had aimed his punch a few inches higher, Lirzod would have said goodbye to his lizard.”
“But, he sure is swimming weirdly,” Tarkan made a foggy expression. “What’s that style? It somewhat resembles a frog style. Still, this is my first time seeing someone implement a reverse swim underwater. Was he just desperate, or...”
To all appearances, there was no word in any known language that perfectly described how pissed off Boksa was at the moment. Merciless fists bombarded into the water, drilling ephemeral holes left and right, shattering all ice shards in their path as he vented his spleen through paroxysms of rage.
“You little rat!” Boksa’s fury further intensified with every passing second as also reflected in the frequency of punches he threw—thick and fast—aiming to emboss the marks of his fists on every inch of Lirzod's body. “Stop struggling.”
Having frolicked underwater for so long, Lirzod ran out of oxygen. With no more oxygen left in his tank, he was forced to pop his head out. Boksa, who had sensed such an occurrence beforehand, grinned and lunged ahead as fast as he could, his arms stretched to his front as if he was diving into a pool, in turn widening Lirzod’s eyes. “Mountain Burial!”
As his massive body crashed down, the shifting walls of water splattered around and blinded most of the audience for a little while as the waves generated in the process traveled to both the nearby edges of the ice dumpster, surprising the guards standing at their positions.
An eerie silence birthed in some sections of the audience, though it didn’t last long.
“Did that boy get squashed to death, or did he maybe managed to escape?”
“Idiot! His opponent is too huge. There’s no way that brat could have escaped in that short of a time.”
“Yeah, even if he did, at least most of his bones would have broken in that process.”
“Brown Hill intends to annihilate that boy. He's certainly gone insane. The referee must stop him before he deprives the boy of his existence.”
As different members of the audience held several impressions on the fight unfolding before their eyes, the waves in the ice dumpster settled down in a moment. The very next instant, all of the audience got baffled when the first person their eyes caught sight of was a boy who got back to his feet, his clothes thoroughly drenched in water and possibly much more. “That was close.” He didn't seem to have suffered any major wound and seemed flawlessly fine; however, he put his hand on his ribs, for he still felt the after effects of the bruises that Geragorn gifted. Though traveling in the cold pool alleviated some pain, too much movement still brought out enough pain for him to get frozen at times. All he could do now was take slow and deep breaths, trying to ease the pain.
“W-W-What’s going on? Why is he the one who stood first?” some of the audience ogled at him, manifesting buffalo faces. “To think he managed to escape that deadly move, his parents sure are lucky!”
“Whose son is he?” many people in the audience stands shouted. “What did his father do for his son to be lucky enough to escape ruin till now? What’s his occupation?”
“Mm?” Lirzod, upon sensing that the audience was looking at him, simply smiled. “My father is a farmer.”
“F-Farmer?” the audience, those who could hear his voice, were disappointed. “What, so he’s from an ordinary background.”
“Farmers are among the unluckiest folks in the world. Your luck wouldn’t last long, not with that little talent of yours.”
Though different members of the audience gave different opinions, Lirzod just swatted their words. “My father is extraordinary, and he’s a farmer, so you guys all must be soft in the head! Besides, I believe that in many cases, toil yields much more than talent.” Saying that he teased the audience with his tongue. “So things like luck aren’t worth my faith, fellows.”
“Shut up, you little runt!”
“Farmers work their asses off in their fields, yet their months of work can be swallowed up by a simple storm. And you say toil yields a lot more luck than talent? That’s rubbish! If one has enough talent, they can even predict the weather! Natural talent is clearly more important than hard work.”
“Go back to your home, and join your father in farming!”
“Haha, yeah, why are you even here?”
A decent amount of people in the audience stands were up from their seats as they barked at Lirzod; however, he was just thumbing his ear and no longer seemed to be bothered about them. “I got it. Some fellas just don’t get it. I never said that talent is less important than hard work or the opposite,” he mused to himself and then spoke aloud. “Natural talent is great, but that alone can only take you so far before it falls flat. However, if you add hard work to whatever natural talent you have, you can toil your way through everything till you taste success, or at least get to end things on your own terms. Aren’t you people repeatedly taking this deck test for the same reason? Why didn’t you stop after you failed the first time? Isn’t it because every time you jump into this ice dumpster, your chance to succeed improves because hard work adds up talent more than talent can? Isn’t it because victory tastes the sweetest after some sweat had been shed? That’s why I feel.. natural talent can’t hold a candle to acquired talent obtained through a great deal of work. You may call it experience or whatever you want, but that’s superior if you ask me.”
“Hmph, what nonsense are you spouting!” some audience kept barking at Lirzod. “Someone shut his mouth!”
Hundred, in the meantime, breathed a sigh of relief before squinting his eyes. “I thought he was a goner. How did he move away in so short of a time?” His subtle smile appeared content. “He’s better than I thought.”
“Not really,” Tarkan's words briefly put Hundred in a fog. “That fat ass overestimated his jump.”
Hundred’s mouth partly opened from hearing that. A scare whooshed over his face, robbing all the pleasantness from it. “You mean…”
“He probably didn’t use that ‘move’ in a long time,” Tarkan alleged, dropping his head as he slowly shook it. “‘Mountain Burial’ or whatever it was... In the end, he buried himself.”
“A flopped burial, huh...” Hundred had a blank face, but the other men in the vicinity either shook their heads or jerked their shoulders; howbeit, Sariyu was the first one to giggle, though only slightly, her expression was potent enough to spread to whoever lay their eyes on her. Consequently, many members among the audience began to guffaw as the contagion of laughter flowed over the audience stands, touching almost everyone who didn’t exchange words with Lirzod. At the end of it, even Hundred couldn’t withstand it and ended up letting out a restrained laugh. Just then a lizard fell on his thigh, startling him. There was a dragonfly in its mouth. It hastily climbed down his leg, but before it fled, Hundred’s foot stomped it to death. “You damned thing…” he twisted his foot clockwise and anticlockwise a few times before kicking it away with a flick of his foot finger. “Hmph!” he folded his hands and rested his back against the seat. Spleen still dwelled in his eyes.
As Lirzod hastened away from the spot, he glanced at Boksa, who still lay at the bottom of the ice dumpster, fully submerged in the water, his silhouette almost apparent to the naked eyes of the bystanders. “Man, I am not that knowledgeable, but you should include some almonds in your diet—they make you light.”
“He’s all good,” Burton told Sariyu. “Let’s go.”
“Mm,” she nodded and turned back when she felt an abnormal gust of wind blow past her face. As she rubbed her face with one hand, she felt the coldness in the air. The increased whiteness in her breath also distressed her a bit. “It’s getting much colder now.”
“Try to hang on,” Burton voiced support, albeit his tone lacked enthusiasm. “if you keep moving, you won’t feel as bad.”
“I know that, but...” she crossed her arms and, at the same time, rubbed them.
At that moment, Lirzod joined them. “I’m back.”
Sariyu glanced at him coldly and spoke with a tinge of anger in her voice, “I will take care of you after this event ends.”
“What are you talking about?" Lirzod reproved her words. "I took care of Uncle Piggy for you.”
Her blood boiled instantly, and she stomped on Lirzod’s foot. “I fought him for your sake in the first place, idiot!”
“Ouch, my foot!” Lirzod took a step away from her, his mouth blowing air at his foot, while he hopped on a single leg. “Y-You are right, sawshin. My bad.”
Some of the audience envied Lirzod. “Not only did she save him from Brown Hill, but she also waited for him. He may be the son of a farmer, but he’s the luckiest bodyguard I’ve ever seen! I want to trade places with him!”
“Hey, I forgot to stuff my pockets with nuts,” Lirzod asked Sariyu. “Do you have some?”
“This isn’t the time for snacking!” Burton hastily replied.
“Who asked you?” Lirzod snorted. "Mind your business, got it?"
Burton ignored his words and glanced at Sariyu. "Don't give him any."
“Forget about giving him, but who would even carry food to a place like this?” Sariyu barked at Lirzod, “And stop lying! I don’t believe that you forgot to fetch some nuts on your way here.”
“I did fetch some...” Lirzod uttered in a dejected tone, his expression taking after a sad and starving squirrel that hadn't even seen much less gotten a sniff off of nuts in quite a many days, “but before I could stuff them in my pockets, they got stolen.”
“Stolen?" Sariyu raised a brow. "By whom?”
Lirzod pointed his finger at a particular spot on his face, “This thing called my mouth.”
His words lit a spark of rage in Sariyu. She instantly got triggered and swept her hand into his mouth. “Thief Thrashing Slap!” the dorsal side of her palm smacked his mouth vivaciously, making Lirzod right away cover his mouth in suffering.
A slap straight to Lirzod’s mouth eminently entertained many of the audience.
“Haha, she sure knows how to put a bodyguard in their place.”
“Now, I like her even more.”
"Slap him again, please!"
Lirzod paid no heed to the voices of the crowd but still made a long face as he spoke to Sariyu. “When I die from hunger, don’t come to my grave and offer some nuts, because a buried man eats nothing but dirt... and maybe worms, too. That’s why I wanted you to give me some nuts.”
“No problem. I will leave some extra-large worms for you,” Sariyu shrugged half-heartedly, deepening the pitiful look on Lirzod’s face.
Meanwhile, Boksa slowly rose to his feet and brushed off the ice shards stuck to his body before exercising his limbs as his eyes worked to locate Lirzod. Seeing him stretching his body poorly, some people subtly shook their heads. “I ended up taking a nap. Where was that little rat again?” Because he had been underwater, he didn’t hear Lirzod’s words or even the riotous laughter of the crowd.
“S-Sleeping?” the crowd who heard his words felt not only stupefied but perplexed at the same time.
“That’s impossible. How can one sleep underwater?”
“Yeah, he’s surely lying.”
“He’s hiding the embarrassment this way, probably.”
“Pfft, he shouldn't have put up such a facade. Most people probably already forgot about his fall. He’s simply reminding us again and possibly also unintentionally helping this memory get etched in people’s minds.”
HAHAHA~!
As the laughter of the crowd came across his ears, he initially didn’t believe it was addressed to him as he wasn’t used to being laughed at, but as time passed, his thoughts changed, and so did the fake composure, which chagrin notably traded places with afterward. “I will get back my face by the end of this race.” He marched onward like an eminent wolf. The crowd got goosebumps, yet they didn’t know why.
The emotions and feelings of despair in those who had fought with Boksa, now surfaced out, reminding them once again that this sole remembrance will not fade away as long as they lived.
Tarkan narrowed his eyes as he observed Boksa. An Alpha never cries because it only knows how to make others cry. Now, will this Alpha succeed in making his enemy cry before the event ends?
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