Chapter 143
Another match loomed—Mammoth, the Tiger Crown heavyweight champion, would face off against Black Widow, the reigning Phoenix Crown holder.
But the match wasn’t about sportsmanship. It was a trap.
The Watsons would first sacrifice a staggering 46 billion, baiting investors with the illusion of fairness, before pulling the rug out from under them and profiting massively from manipulated results.
In just three minutes, the Tiger Crown had already racked up over one billion support votes.
Nash’s lips curled into a dark smile.
If he hadn’t come here today, tens of billions would’ve flowed into the Watsons’ coffers—and thousands of families would have unknowingly handed over their savings, ruined in the process.
He remembered his master’s words: A saint is not born by miracle, but by virtue—by doing good, helping others, and finding joy in it.
Today, he would be that saint.
Pocketing his phone, Nash strode toward the arena.
In the ring, Black Widow stood with a chilling composure. When she locked eyes with Bianca, she raised her hand and made a slicing motion across her throat.
Nash stepped to the edge of the ring. “Bianca,” he called, his voice serious, “watch yourself. Black Widow may be trying to kill you.”
Bianca, mouthguard in place, nodded without fear. Her eyes were sharp. Focused.
She stepped into the center of the ring.
The bell rang.
Black Widow exploded forward without preamble, launching a brutal storm of strikes—fists hammering like hail in a hurricane.
Bianca covered her head, swaying left and right to avoid the worst of it, but she was quickly forced back.
In the stands, Hera and Skadi clutched each other’s hands in silent desperation.
Nash’s eyes followed every move intently, scanning Black Widow’s form for a weakness. But she was the Dark Lord’s daughter. Her technique was terrifyingly precise. Her form airtight.
There was little to exploit.
Skadi’s voice trembled. “She’s still not winning… What do we do?”
Hera’s voice cracked. “We have to believe in her. Bianca won’t give up. She’ll find a way!”
But Bianca’s arms were burning. Her muscles screamed.
Then she remembered Nash’s voice, calm and instructive:
“Seize the opportunity and strike a thunderous blow. If there is no opportunity—then make one.”
That was it. She had to create her chance.
As Black Widow came in with a savage uppercut, Bianca hesitated for a fraction too long.
Fist met cheek.
Bianca’s head snapped to the side. The world blurred.
Gasps rang out in the crowd.
Hera buried her face in Skadi’s shoulder, unable to watch.
Black Widow smirked. She struck again—this time to Bianca’s jaw.
Blood streamed from Bianca’s nose and lips.
One punch.
Another.
A third.