"And we are now down to our final four in this tournament, leaving us with just four more matches to determine the champion!" Pat announced to the roaring 50,000-strong crowd. "Samantha! Care to introduce what's in store for today?" he continued, cueing in his co-host.

  "Yes, Pat! We started with 16 competitors and are now down to the final four!" Samantha proudly recapped. "Today, we have two crucial matches—Loser's Round 5 and the Winner's Semifinal! After today, we'll only have two more matches left: the Loser's Final and the Grand Final, where we'll finally crown this year's Atheneum Games Champion!"

  Pat followed up excitedly, "Without further ado, let's introduce the final four and give them the ovation they deserve! Samantha, back to you for the introductions!"

  "My pleasure, Pat! Our first competitor stepping onto the stage is Jake Harada! His weapon of choice—his trusty baseball bat! Jake has performed exceptionally well in this competition. Though he was knocked out in the first round by the reigning champion, Naomi West, he has held his ground and risen through the competition!" Samantha finished, and the billboard lit up with Jake's name and photo as he marched onto the stage. Unlike his usual cheerful self, Jake's expression was serious, his mind focused on the competition ahead against Oliver.

  "Our next competitor is as cunning as he is skilled—from conceding matches to having his opponents concede, to capitalizing on their mistakes, he has managed to reach this stage through dubious means. The only competitor from a combat sport, wielding the traditional fencing weapon, the épée, please welcome our second competitor in Loser's Round 5— Olivier Leclerc!" Pat announced as the billboard lit up with Oliver's name. As he walked onto the stage, the crowd erupted into jeers and boos.

  Unfazed by the hostility, Oliver smiled, walking casually beside Jake as arranged by the event staff, unaware of the tension between the two. As they stood side by side, Oliver leaned in slightly and whispered to Jake, "How's your friend? His name is Cartwheel or something? I hope he's still alive."

  His words were deliberately provocative, designed to provoke and rattle Jake, hoping to elicit an aggressive response that could lead to disqualification. Oliver smirked, silently daring Jake to lose control and strike him with his baseball bat before the match had even begun.

  Jake clenched his fists, gripping his bat tightly as he controlled his temper against Oliver's verbal abuse. He remembered Preston's warning—not to fall for Oliver's mind games. Don't let him get to you. Oliver, seeing that Jake didn't react with aggression, simply smiled. Even though Jake didn't act, his tense body language told another story—he was angry. Good, Oliver thought. He's holding it in now, but I'll push him again later. Sooner or later, he'll snap.

  "Our next competitor has been impressive, resilient, and adaptable. Wielding his cricket bat, he has managed to stay afloat in the Winner's Round, making it to the Winner's Semifinal through his quick adaptability and ability to learn from mistakes. Please give a warm welcome to Arjun Patel!" Samantha announced as Arjun's name lit up on the billboard and the crowd erupted in cheers.

  Arjun waved his cricket bat and acknowledged the crowd's warm welcome before walking over to stand beside Jake. The moment he reached his spot, he noticed something was off. Jake's posture, his grip on his bat—he looked unusually tense and angry.

  "Jake, are you okay?" Arjun asked, his concern immediate.

  Jake, not wanting to worry Arjun, forced a smile and replied, "I'm okay, Arjun. Thanks for asking."

  Arjun wasn't convinced. He kept a watchful eye on Jake, sensing that something had shaken his friend.

  Before the next competitor even entered, the crowd's energy surged into a deafening roar. "NAOMI! NAOMI! NAOMI!" The chants echoed through the stadium, signaling the arrival of the tournament favorite.

  "I guess she needs no introduction," Pat chuckled. "Her style is ferocious, powerful, and lightning-fast. Her fitness and discipline are unmatched, and with her tennis racket, she is the reigning champion! Please welcome back Naomi West!"

  As Naomi's name lit up on the billboard, the cheers reached their loudest. She walked onto the stage with her racket in hand, waving to the massive ovation. The crowd looked up to her as the standard of excellence, and she carried herself with the calm confidence of a true champion.

  "And there you have it—our final four competitors!" Pat hyped up the audience. "Give them a huge round of applause!" The crowd erupted, celebrating the top four contenders.

  "And now, joining us is our guest of honor. He is known as a philanthropist and a generous businessman, funding numerous charitable organizations to help them in their missions. Please give your warmest welcome to Mr. Bastien Laurent!" Samantha added.

  "Mr. Laurent has also personally donated an additional $50,000 to each competitor's charity of choice—a truly generous gesture," she continued.

  As they finished the announcement, the billboard lit up, displaying Mr. Bastien Laurent's image—a distinguished man with dark brown, wavy hair and deep turquoise eyes, set against fair ivory skin that radiated a natural charm. Dressed in a meticulously tailored brown tuxedo, complemented by matching pants and a trench coat that whispered of both nobility and clandestine affairs, he carried himself with the poise of a man well-versed in power and diplomacy. At 60 years old, he barely looked his age, exuding an air of timeless elegance and a friendly yet enigmatic presence.

  As the real Mr. Laurent walked onto the stage, he mirrored his image on the screen—sophisticated and culturally refined. The crowd erupted into applause, cheering in appreciation of his generosity. He responded with a gentle, composed smile, acknowledging the audience with a graceful nod.

  In his hand, he held his weapon of choice—a luxury black walking stick, crowned with a gold head that seamlessly married elegance and strength. Measuring approximately 35.4 inches, it was of standard length, but unlike a traditional walking aid, it was not for support. Instead, it was a symbol of power, a statement of his refined taste and authority. The sleek black lacquered finish exuded class and dominance, while the gold handle served as an unmistakable mark of prestige and influence.

  Behind Mr. Laurent was a towering figure, a prominent presence that commanded attention. Standing 2 meters tall with a mesomorphic build, he had a distinctive short brown hairstyle that added to his rugged appearance. His dark skin contrasted with his sharp hazel eyes, which held a depth of experience and quiet intensity—a gaze that could convey kindness just as easily as it could warn of danger.

  Dressed in a black suit, black tie, and matching pants, he exuded an aura of professionalism and intimidation in equal measure. It was immediately clear to anyone observing that he was Mr. Laurent's bodyguard, a man who commanded attention without needing to say a word.

  While it was common for individuals in this world to carry visible melee weapons, his weapon of choice was not immediately apparent. However, upon closer inspection, one could spot gold-plated knuckle dusters wrapped around both of his fists—crafted from reinforced steel, a clear indication of his preference for close-quarters combat. Unlike many who relied on blades or blunt weapons, his weapon choice suggested a brutal, unyielding approach, favoring raw strength and precision strikes. Yet, given his imposing physique, one could easily assume that he didn't even need a weapon to be dangerous.

  "What a charming and generous man we have here!" Pat commended, his enthusiasm evident. "Without him, the Atheneum Games wouldn't have been possible!"

  "Mr. Laurent's contributions to society are well known," Samantha added. "Despite his wealth and status, he remains committed to philanthropy. He firmly believes that the world thrives when given a fair and just foundation, ensuring that everyone, regardless of wealth or poverty, has an equal opportunity to succeed—a sentiment he's echoed in many of his past interviews."

  As the audience continued to cheer, Mr. Laurent raised his hand in acknowledgment, his calm and composed demeanor adding an air of mystique and influence to his already formidable reputation. Walking gracefully toward the final four competitors of the Atheneum Games, he approached them one by one to offer his congratulations.

  The first competitor he stood before was Olivier Leclerc. Oliver extended his hand confidently, and Mr. Laurent reciprocated the gesture. With a subtle smirk, Olivier spoke in his native tongue, French, hoping to impress him.

  "Monsieur Laurent, ravi de vous rencontrer, c'est un plaisir," he said, which translated to, "Mr. Laurent, nice to meet you, it's a pleasure." He deliberately spoke in French, knowing that Mr. Laurent was of Franco-American heritage, hoping to win favor with him.

  However, Mr. Laurent did not respond in kind. He simply nodded politely and offered a small smile, then moved on without a word. Olivier's smirk faded slightly, sensing that his attempt to impress had fallen flat.

  Mr. Laurent then stood before Jake Harada, extending his hand. Jake, not expecting any special interaction, shook his hand just like the others. However, unlike with Olivier, Mr. Laurent's demeanor completely changed—it was warmer, more personal.

  "Hi, Jake Harada. Nice to meet you," Mr. Laurent said with genuine enthusiasm. "I've been watching the tournament, and I must say, I'm quite impressed by your performance. I look forward to seeing more from you." His smile was sincere, his tone filled with genuine appreciation.

  Jake, caught off guard by the unexpected warmth and recognition, simply responded, "Thank you…!" He wasn't sure how else to react to the high praise from such an esteemed figure.

  Standing nearby, Olivier watched the exchange, his hands slowly curling into fists. Despite his efforts to impress Mr. Laurent, the man's enthusiasm was directed elsewhere—toward Jake. It was not the reaction Olivier had expected, and a small ember of jealousy sparked within him.

  Mr. Laurent then proceeded to the next competitor, Arjun Patel, shaking his hand.

  "Thank you, Mr. Laurent, for your generosity," Arjun said, expressing his gratitude to the tournament sponsor.

  Mr. Laurent simply nodded politely and offered a small smile, much like his earlier greeting with Olivier. Moving on, he reached the final competitor—Naomi West, last year's reigning champion. Naomi extended a firm and confident handshake, her poise reflecting the mindset of a champion.

  "Mr. Laurent, it's a pleasure to see you again. I will do my best to defend this championship." Naomi's voice was steady and full of determination.

  Mr. Laurent simply smiled back without further exchange before stepping back.

  At this moment, it became apparent that Mr. Laurent had some degree of favoritism toward Jake. Olivier, watching closely, noticed that every competitor—himself, Arjun, and even Naomi—had barely exchanged words with the esteemed guest. Yet Jake? Jake had received special attention, warmth, and personal encouragement.

  "Why?" Olivier wondered bitterly. "Why him? Why not me?"

  His grip tightened slightly, his jealousy now fully ignited. "You won't be impressed with this guy for long," Olivier thought darkly. "When I get him disqualified before the competition even starts, you'll have no choice but to turn your attention to me—the future champion of the Atheneum Games." A small smirk crept onto his lips, his mind already plotting his next move.

  Pat's voice boomed over the speakers, breaking the tension. "And we thank Mr. Bastien Laurent for his generosity! Everyone, please give a warm round of applause as we move on to the Winner's Semifinal between Naomi West and Arjun Patel!"

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  The crowd erupted in cheers once again as Mr. Laurent waved one last time before departing for the special VIP lounge to watch the match. Before disappearing into the tunnel, he briefly glanced at Jake.

  "Good luck, Jake. I'm watching." His words were clear and deliberate, further stoking the fire in Olivier's mind as the distinguished guest vanished from the arena.

  As the competitors were cued by staff to head backstage, preparing for their matches, Olivier saw one final opportunity. One last attempt to get Jake disqualified before they even stepped into the ring.

  Leaning in close, he whispered his most vicious words yet into Jake's ear.

  "You know your friend Carter? He deserved to die. Such a stubborn brute. A brainless idiot like him doesn't even deserve to live. I hope he dies in that hospital while you're here competing, so you won't even get to see his last breath."

  Jake's eyes widened in sheer rage. His grip on his bat tightened, his breath heavy with fury. That was the final straw—he snapped. Without a moment of hesitation, he raised his bat, preparing to unleash a Home Run Swing straight into Olivier's smug face.

  Olivier's smile widened—his plan had worked. He closed his eyes, embracing the incoming blow. If Jake swung, he'd be disqualified on the spot.

  "One strike. That's all it takes. Come on, Jake. Do it. Lose control."

  The sinister thought echoed in Olivier's mind as he braced himself for the impact. The pain would be temporary, but it would be worth it—getting Jake disqualified was all that mattered.

  But then… ten seconds passed. Nothing happened. Confused, Olivier opened his eyes. Jake's bat was still raised, but something was blocking it. A cricket bat had intercepted its trajectory mid-air.

  Olivier's smirk vanished as he turned his gaze. It was Arjun. He had stepped in at the last second, using his cricket bat to stop Jake's swing.

  Jake glared at Olivier, still fuming, his body trembling with anger. He tried to push forward, but Arjun didn't budge. His cricket bat remained firm, holding Jake's baseball bat in place.

  Jake turned to Arjun, his expression still clouded with fury. He wanted to strike again, but Arjun shook his head. "Jake, don't do this." Arjun's voice was steady and calm. "Let it be settled in the arena later. You're better than this."

  Jake's breath hitched. His grip on the bat remained tight for a few more moments before, with a deep, exasperated sigh, he slowly lowered it. He knew Arjun was right—he wasn't in the right state of mind. He had nearly fallen into Olivier's trap.

  Olivier looked across in dismay—his plan should have gone accordingly, without any disruptions, without the intervention of a third party. He turned to Jake and Arjun, still wearing a smug expression, exuding confidence despite his scheme falling apart.

  "I guess I'll see you both in the arena then. And Jake, I meant what I said—I hope your friend Carter dies."

  He smirked, then shifted his gaze to Arjun.

  "As for you, Arjun, whether you make it to the Grand Finals or the Loser's Final, the result will be the same when you face me. I'll be the one standing tall—you're nothing more than a stepping stone."

  With one last arrogant smile, Olivier turned and walked away.

  Jake was still furious, but he knew he had to channel all his anger into the upcoming match against Olivier. As for Arjun, he, too, couldn't let Olivier's words get to him. His next challenge was against the reigning champion, Naomi. That match was his priority—he had to focus on winning before thinking about Olivier.

  As the introduction of the Final Four concluded, the commentators began hyping up the electrified crowd inside Maxwell Colosseum.

  "We are now heading into our Winner's Semifinal!" Pat announced, his dramatic commentary igniting the energy in the arena. "The stakes couldn't be higher! The winner of this match advances directly to the Grand Finals, while the loser will have to fight their way through the Loser's Final against the winner of Loser's Round 5 for one last shot at glory!" Pat's words built anticipation, the crowd roaring in excitement.

  "Let's not keep them waiting any longer—let's get this match started without further ado!" Samantha followed up, her voice clear and professional. She then turned to introduce the first competitor. "Stepping onto the battlefield, ready to take on his greatest challenge yet—Arjun Patel!"

  As Arjun's name flashed across the massive billboard, he walked into the arena to a wave of cheers, gripping his cricket bat tightly. This was his grand final—his do-or-die moment. If he could defeat Naomi West, it would go down as one of the biggest upsets in Athenaeum Games history.

  Then, the challenger stepped into the arena. "Naomi! Naomi! Naomi!" The deafening chant from the audience drowned out Samantha's introduction, a testament to Naomi's dominance.

  Naomi West had been unstoppable in the Winner's Bracket, crushing every opponent by wide margins. Her reign as the defending champion was no fluke—she had proven time and time again why she was the best. Bookies and analysts had her as the overwhelming favorite, expecting nothing less than another masterclass performance.

  With her tennis racket in hand, Naomi walked forward, her eyes locked onto Arjun with calm, focused intensity. On the opposite side, Arjun stood ready with his cricket bat in hand, ever prepared to take on Naomi.

  With a loud "Beeeeep!", the referee's whistle rang across the arena, signaling the start of the Winner's Semifinal.

  

  Both competitors wasted no time, immediately rushing into melee range to test each other out. Arjun performed his Slice Cut Shot, swinging his cricket bat in a precise cutting motion, mimicking a cricket cut shot. Meanwhile, Naomi executed her Topspin Slice, delivering a precise slicing motion with her racket, aiming to cause superficial cuts or target vulnerable points on her opponent, similar to a controlled tennis slice shot.

  The cricket bat and tennis racket clashed, their similar cutting properties negating each other upon impact.

  Before Arjun could follow up with his next move, Naomi's reaction was much faster. She had already transitioned into her next technique.

  She performed Drop Shot Feint, feinting a high swing. Arjun saw it coming and was forced into a defensive stance, using Bouncer Block, raising his bat to block and deflect incoming attacks, mimicking the unpredictable trajectory of a bouncer ball.

  But Naomi's move was a feint, as Arjun's block met nothing. Before he could react, Naomi swiftly dropped into a low, unexpected strike, catching him off guard with the sudden shift in attack height.

  "Swoosh!" Her strike connected cleanly, landing the first hit on Arjun. The crowd erupted into cheers, excited to see their fan-favorite take the lead.

  Arjun clutched the side of his body where he had been struck, his expression momentarily tensing from the impact. But the match was far from over. He knew he still had a chance—he just needed to find the perfect opportunity for a comeback.

  "Naomi proves why she's the reigning champion, now holding the advantage with the first hit! Not sure if Arjun can still turn this around!" Pat hyped up the crowd with his energetic commentary.

  "At the very start of the match, both Arjun and Naomi neutralized each other's moves with their similar slicing techniques—Arjun's Slice Cut Shot clashing against Naomi's Topspin Slice, canceling each other out," Samantha continued, providing a detailed play-by-play.

  "But Naomi broke the deadlock with her Drop Shot Feint, tricking Arjun into blocking a high swing with his Bouncer Block—only for her to switch into a low, unexpected strike, catching him off guard!" Samantha analyzed, emphasizing Naomi's tactical edge.

  "Let's see if Arjun can pull off a miracle comeback from this!" Pat added as both commentators and the audience eagerly watched how the intense semifinal would unfold.

  Arjun tried to regroup and adjust his strategy, but Naomi was relentless, giving him no time to breathe. She swiftly executed Cross-Court Dash, dashing toward him with incredible speed before immediately leaping into the air. With her racket raised high, she aimed to end the match swiftly with her Overhead Smash, bringing it down with crushing force.

  Her racket descended rapidly, but this time, Arjun managed to defend against the attack. With a precise and strategic placement of his cricket bat, he successfully executed Crease Counter, creating a defensive zone around him, effectively managing his "crease" against Naomi's assault before her racket could deliver the finishing blow.

  In that split second, Arjun knew he had to turn the match in his favor. He attempted to activate Innings Inspiration, harnessing his inner strength and positive mindset to boost his stamina and resilience. If he could successfully channel this ability, he could shift the momentum, allowing him to outlast Naomi in a prolonged battle—just as endurance is key in long cricket innings.

  But Naomi approached both her sport and life with a strategic mindset—she would not allow Arjun any chance to fully activate his Innings Inspiration. Without hesitation, she grabbed a tennis ball, launching it toward him with her Power Serve Shot. The ball rocketed forward, transforming into a high-velocity projectile, capable of striking from a distance with tremendous impact and disorienting force.

  Arjun was faced with two choices—continue channeling Innings Inspiration but take the full force of the incoming projectile, or stop channeling and counter the attack.

  He chose the latter. Swinging his bat with precision, he performed Boundary Blast, executing an overhead swing to intercept the projectile, just like hitting a ball for a boundary in cricket. The powerful swing sent Naomi's attack flying off course, preventing it from landing.

  Naomi still held the advantage—she had successfully forced Arjun to halt his Innings Inspiration, keeping the match in her control. Wasting no time, she immediately rushed forward with Volley Combo, delivering a series of quick, precise strikes with her racket, targeting multiple points on Arjun's body in rapid succession. Arjun had no choice but to defend, raising his bat and using Bouncer Block to absorb Naomi's relentless attacks. However, with each impact, he was unknowingly forced backward, his feet stepping back instinctively under the sheer power of her strikes. He hadn't realized it, but this was all part of Naomi's plan.

  She was using Court Control, maneuvering him into a vulnerable position just like controlling the court in a real tennis match. Arjun's back touched the wall, and that's when he realized—he had been trapped.

  It was too late. Naomi was already prepared to finish the match.

  With a fierce, unwavering gaze, she activated her ultimate move—Ace Finisher. Channeling all her strength and focus, she swung her racket down in a devastating, full-force strike aimed to end the match. The move had knocked out countless opponents, cementing her legacy as a dominant champion.

  Arjun knew this was the endgame, but he refused to go down without a fight. He summoned everything he had left and went for his own ultimate move—Propelling Helicopter Shot. With a wristy flick, he swung his cricket bat, using his bottom hand as the dominant force to strike Naomi's head before she could land her hit.

  "Thack!"

  The clash lasted for only a split second—but Naomi's racket struck first.

  Arjun's body buckled under the force of the impact. His bat slipped from his grasp, and his legs gave out beneath him. He collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

  The referee quickly checked on Arjun, confirming his inability to continue before pointing to Naomi. "Match won! Naomi West!"

  "Naomi! Naomi! Naomi!" The crowd erupted into thunderous cheers, chanting her name in unison.

  She took a deep breath, raising a hand to wave at the audience, a confident smile on her face. The reigning champion had once again proven her dominance—she was now officially in the Grand Finals of the Athenaeum Games.

  "What a match from start to finish! Naomi's performance was absolutely magnificent, securing her the win. This is exactly why she's the reigning champion! Arjun put up a brave fight, but it just wasn't enough to take down the champion." Pat hyped up the crowd with his energetic commentary.

  "We have to give it to Naomi—she was strategic and in control the entire match, while Arjun struggled to keep up," Samantha added. "Arjun tried to activate his Innings Inspiration, which would have significantly improved his chances against Naomi, but she was on high alert, never allowing him the opportunity to finish channeling. She forced him into a choice—either take the full brunt of her Power Serve Shot or stop channeling to defend. Arjun opted for the latter, using Boundary Blast to deflect the projectile, but Naomi had already gained the upper hand."

  Samantha continued, providing her play-by-play analysis.

  "The turning point was when Naomi executed her Volley Combo, hitting Arjun with a flurry of rapid, precise strikes. Arjun was forced into defense once again, using Bouncer Block to hold off the attacks. However, what he didn't realize was that he was unknowingly stepping backward, falling right into Naomi's plan with Court Control. She expertly maneuvered him into a vulnerable position, trapping him against the wall. That was when she ended the match with her ultimate move, Ace Finisher. Arjun made one final effort to counter with Propelling Helicopter Shot, but Naomi's attack struck first, knocking him out and sealing her victory."

  "Naomi has officially punched her ticket to the Grand Finals!" Pat declared. "But it's not over for Arjun just yet—he still has a chance to make a comeback!"

  "That's right," Samantha added. "He'll be facing the winner of Loser's Round 5 in the Loser's Final for one last shot at redemption."

  "And that match is coming up next!" Pat continued. "It's Jake Harada versus Olivier Leclerc—who will move on to face Arjun in the Loser's Final? Stay tuned to find out!"

  As the broadcast team cued the telecast for a break, the production crew quickly prepared for the highly anticipated battle between Jake Harada and Olivier Leclerc in Loser's Round 5.

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