Chapter 85 - Semifinals!

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(POV. Ethan.)

"Idiots!" I hear Gina and Bulma approaching after getting dressed.

I turn to face them, feeling a mix of irritation and concern. Their faces show a combination of confusion and annoyance that makes me sigh inwardly. I know I owe them an explanation, but how do I provide one without revealing too much?

"What just happened here, Ethan?" Bulma demands, her tone as sharp as a blade. Her blue eyes shine with an intensity I know all too well — she won't back down until she gets satisfying answers.

Gina, on the other hand, keeps a calmer posture, but I can sense her aura stirring. She's just as curious as Bulma, only better at hiding it.

I run a hand through my hair, buying time to organize my thoughts. "We had an... unexpected visitor," I begin, choosing my words carefully. "Master Tsuru and Tien Shinhan decided to make a little demonstration of their intentions for tomorrow's tournament."

"Demonstration?" Gina raises an eyebrow, her voice calm but filled with skepticism. "It felt more like a cowardly attack in the middle of the night."

I shrug, trying to seem more nonchalant than I really am. "To them, it's the same thing. They think intimidation is a valid tactic."

Bulma crosses her arms, her piercing gaze scanning me from head to toe. "And why exactly were they trying to intimidate you, Ethan? What aren't you telling us?"

I feel the weight of their stares. It's a constant reminder of how much has changed since I arrived in this world. Once, I was just another face in the crowd. Now, I'm the center of attention, carrying secrets that could change the course of history.

"Look," I begin, carefully choosing my words, "Master Tsuru and his disciples have a... different philosophy about martial arts. They see the tournament as a chance to prove their superiority, no matter the cost."

"Either way, it doesn't matter now. They fled and decided to fight tomorrow, which is good. Their chances of victory are almost non-existent," I say to the girls.

(POV. Ethan)

The morning breeze was cool, but the tension burning in the arena felt like embers ready to ignite. Tien Shinhan stood before me, his gaze fixed as if he wanted to pierce me with sheer intent. On the other side of the arena, the audience murmured anxiously, placing their bets on the winner. Some rooted for me; others, more cautious, still believed in Tien's dominance. Little did they know what was about to unfold.

The truth is, I was in no hurry. I could feel the fervor in the air, the accumulated expectations — but none of it mattered. This wasn't a tournament; it was a stage. A stage where I decided when and how the curtain would fall.

Tien took a step forward, cracking his knuckles. His gaze was heavy with disdain. "So, Ethan, ready to be humiliated?"

I smirked, more to myself than to him. "You have no idea what you're about to face, friend."

The judge raised his hand, ready to start the match. I could see Tien preparing, his muscles tense, waiting for the signal. When the arm came down, like a hammer announcing the beginning of the fight, he charged forward with the ferocity of a ravenous predator. Every move was calculated, efficient, like a machine that had trained its entire life for this moment.

But I didn't need to move. My reflexes weren't guided by thought — they were guided by instinct.

He threw a straight punch. My body effortlessly shifted to the side, like a leaf carried by the breeze. The world around me slowed. The precision of Ultra Instinct allowed me to perceive every nuance of his movements, every intention before he even executed it. Then came the kick, fast and sharp. I could've ended it right there. I could've finished everything in that moment... but I didn't.

I decided to play.

I leaned backward, and Tien's kick passed within millimeters of my face. He lost his balance for a second, and before he could recover, I moved. With a light tap on his shoulder, I made his body spin in the air, as if he were reluctantly dancing. He dropped to his knees, panting, a mixture of fury and disbelief on his face.

"Is that all you've got, Tien?" I asked, not hiding the sarcasm. "I thought you were going to break my arms and legs."

His face twisted with rage. The crowd roared, applauding my evident superiority. But to me, the fight hadn't even begun.

And that's when he decided to play dirty.

With a feral shout, Tien activated his special technique: Kikoho. The air around us grew heavy, an invisible pressure trying to crush me. The golden energy gathered in his hands, forming a bright and deadly prism.

"Let's see if you can escape this, Ethan!" he roared, his voice filled with anger and frustration.

I could feel the power building in the technique. If I were any other fighter, I might have been worried. But that wasn't the case. I was beyond the reach of any trick he could attempt.

When the Kikoho was unleashed, everything around me exploded in a blinding flash. The arena trembled under the pressure of the released energy, the ground cracking in chaotic patterns. For a moment, everything went silent, as if time itself had paused to absorb the impact.

And then, like a shadow cast by light, I reappeared.

I was behind him.

Before he could realize it, I tapped his shoulder lightly, as if to get his attention. He turned, and the moment our eyes met, I smiled. "You missed."

With a fluid motion, I struck the exact point on his neck. It wasn't strong enough to seriously harm him — just enough to deactivate his technique and bring him down like a puppet with its strings cut.

He hit the ground hard, gasping and defeated.

The crowd erupted in cheers. Some were surprised, others outraged, but all were entirely absorbed by the spectacle. The victory was mine, but to me, the fight had been little more than a warm-up.

Then, something unexpected happened.

I sensed a presence. A familiar ki, but different. Bulma and Gina, who had been watching from the sidelines, sensed it too. Their gazes locked for a moment, then fixed on me. Something was wrong.

Suddenly, a figure appeared at the edge of the arena. A dark cloak, the hood covering most of the face. The energy radiating from him was intense, almost suffocating. This wasn't an ordinary person — and I knew he wasn't here just to spectate.

"So, it's you," I muttered to myself, clenching my fists. This wasn't the end of the tournament. It was just the beginning of something far greater.

The hooded figure moved slowly, his steps echoing in the sudden silence of the arena. The crowd, which had been cheering moments ago, now watched in silence, a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.

And then, he spoke.

"You are strong, Ethan," the voice said, deep and calm. "But you are not yet ready for what is to come."

My heart skipped a beat. Who was he? What did he know about me that I didn't know? The question lingered in my mind like an unsolved riddle.

And at that moment, I realized the real fight wasn't against Tien. It was against something much greater, something I was just beginning to comprehend.

But I was ready to find out.

I faced the figure before me and, with a slight smile, said: "So... let's see if you're up to the challenge."

The silence broke with a distant thunder. And the next battle, I knew, would be unlike any other.

And so, a new question consumed me: Who is this figure... and what does he know about me that I don't?