Chapter 60: Chapter 60 - Effortless Dominance
Luka’s face transformed into an expression of pure ugliness the moment I gripped his fist.
Dead silence blanketed the entire arena.
"What... what just happened?" someone murmured from the crowd.
From offstage, Nola shouted: "Luka, quit fooling around and beat him already!"
I could tell from Luka’s face that Nola’s words infuriated him. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to move—he physically couldn’t budge his fist from my grasp.
"This is your so-called inner strength?" I asked, letting mockery creep into my voice.
Luka’s teeth clenched as he yelled, "Don’t underestimate me!"
With that declaration, he balled his other hand into a fist and drove it straight toward my head. I remained perfectly still, allowing his punch to connect with full force.
A dull thud sounded, but I didn’t move an inch. Meanwhile, Luka winced as if he’d struck concrete, pain radiating through his knuckles.
"How... how is that possible!" The color drained from Luka’s face.
I could see the confusion in his eyes. He’d thrown everything into that punch, yet it hadn’t affected me whatsoever.
"It seems this inner strength is nothing special," I remarked with a sneer.
Luka struggled desperately to free his trapped hand, but his efforts proved futile against my grip. Fear crept across his features as realization dawned—he was completely outmatched. I could tell his only thought now was escape.
"Luka, hurry up and break his arm, show no mercy!" Nola screamed from the bleachers.
Hearing her words clearly distressed Luka further. His expression suggested he wanted nothing more than to slap Nola silent.
"You want to break my arm?" I taunted him directly.
Cold sweat beaded on Luka’s forehead as he frantically shook his head. "No... no, I have no such intention!"
"Really?" I replied with disbelief.
I casually raised my free hand and tapped—just tapped—his chest.
The impact sent Luka’s entire body flying sideways with a heavy thud. Pain contorted his face as he clutched at his ribs, struggling to breathe.
Complete silence fell over the arena. Every spectator stared in disbelief, unable to process what they’d witnessed. My palm strike had appeared almost effortless.
"How is this possible!" Quinn O’Connor exclaimed, his eyes wide with shock and face twisted with displeasure.
"Luka!" Nola cried out, rushing onto the stage.
She helped Luka to his feet, then turned to me with fury. "Mason Raymond, how could you be so ruthless to my Luka! Have you no shame?!"
Her hypocrisy nearly made me laugh out loud. This girl was truly something else.
From the spectator stands, Mikael Gutierrez erupted in hearty laughter. "Mr. O’Connor, it seems the helper you invited proved quite useless!"
Quinn’s face paled visibly. Regret painted his features—clearly wishing he’d never attempted to force me away. Now he’d not only made an enemy of me but destroyed his own reputation in the process.
"Mr. O’Connor, since your disciple can barely stand, I don’t think there’s any need to continue, right?" Mikael remarked with a satisfied smile.
Though clearly annoyed, Quinn had no recourse. He stood up grudgingly and shouted, "It was a fake match! Mikael Gutierrez bribed Luka to lose, that’s all!"
His words sparked immediate uproar throughout the audience.
"No wonder! I knew Mason couldn’t possibly match Luka!" someone yelled from the crowd.
"Exactly! His punch looked so weak—how could it throw someone that far?"
"The Gutierrez Family Martial Arts School has absolutely no shame!"
"So that explains it! I knew Luka couldn’t really lose!" Nola exclaimed with sudden understanding.
She slapped Luka’s shoulder forcefully. "Luka, you really had me fooled! You should have told me beforehand—I was scared to death!"
Luka grimaced in agony from her blow against his already fractured ribs. He glared at her with murderous intent.
"Luka, what’s wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?" Nola asked, puzzled.
Through gritted teeth, Luka managed, "No... no problem."
Seeing public opinion sway completely to his advantage, Quinn couldn’t suppress a sneer.
"Trying to fight me? You have a long way to go," he said dismissively.
Mikael’s face darkened with rage. "Quinn! You are utterly despicable!"
"Hahaha! This is called strategy," Quinn replied, shameless pride evident in his voice.
"Mikael, so what if you won the match? Your martial arts school still lost in the eyes of everyone here," Quinn gloated.
"You!" Mikael fumed, but found himself powerless against Quinn’s manipulation.
Quinn stood, addressing the crowd indifferently. "This farce ends now. Everyone has seen the true character of the Gutierrez Family Martial Arts School. I won’t participate in their games any longer. Goodbye."
With those parting words, he turned to leave, clearly pleased with his quick thinking.
"Hold on," I called out firmly from the stage.
Quinn paused mid-step and turned, wearing a faint smile. "Do you have something else to say?"
I narrowed my eyes, staring directly at him. "Mr. O’Connor, since you claim that Mr. Gutierrez bribed Luka, how about this: you come and have a match with me."
