(Trax Pov)

  Trax knew he was going to lose, ever since a week earlier when he was "asked" to lose in exchange for his freedom and some bonus to leave peacefully.

  Ah, he denied it, of course. He's a beast of Jabromater, intentionally losing a fight is like insulting the beast god. Besides, he knew he would win, he was strong. His opponent might have had his merits, but he never doubted his victory.

  The public didn't either, that's why he was asked to lose.

  The denial came at a price, he only discovered this hours before, when he ended up being poisoned "accidentally", not enough to kill him, but enough to weaken him.

  After all, if he didn't even show up for the fight, there could be problems. Along with his pride, they knew that even on his deathbed, he would rise and fight.

  They were right, Trax didn't complain, didn't open his mouth to expose the farce, not out of fear of what would happen, but because it made no sense to him, the beastmen settle things with their fists, that's the law of their tribe, even if he were the last of them, he would honor them by following their customs.

  Even if he died.

  He still hadn't taken his revenge, hadn't avenged the fallen of his tribe, that man... a soft growl escaped his throat at the mere thought of him.

  The odds weren't great, he knew that, but... he wasn't willing to give up. He fought for years, every day, hoping to advance and face that guy head-on.

  But it was like trying to punch a star, he knew that, but he would still jump without hesitation. That's who he is, Trax, the last Beastman of Jabromater.

  He approached the arena as the crowd roared, his body sending signals of pain with every step he took, his muscles begging him to stop.

  He moved forward.

  Trax barely heard the referee say it had started, he only saw the human idiot jump at him with his mace raised and the glint of malice and scorn clearly in his eyes. Trax confirmed it with that look, he knew.

  He felt disgust just thinking about it, how could a man agree to attack a weakened opponent in a fair fight? Trax imagined himself in his situation and felt only profound disgust, he would rather die than face such an opponent.

  But there he was, Jontur.

  His mace rose as he attacked with all his might, his pugilistic flames burning menacingly across the mace.

  Trax raised his hand as his own flames roared with full force, he didn't move, but with sheer willpower, he found the mace with his palm raised.

  The impact of two peak Grade B Supers was tremendous, if the arena hadn't been made of strong enough materials, the floor would have already cracked. The blows didn't even connect, one energy fighting against the other.

  A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  Trax's flames did not subside on the mace, Jontur's eyes widened slightly as a trace of fear appeared on his face.

  But at that moment, the pain from the poison returned, the energy failed as the stalemate was broken, fortunately, the energy had already been largely consumed, so he was still able to calmly pick up the mace.

  Resisting the pain, he lunged forward, his flames engulfing his fists in an explosion of power, before Jontur's shocked eyes, his fist surged straight for his head.

  Very fast, very unexpected, but just as the fist was about to connect, the pain returned, even more intensely.

  Letting out a growl of pain, Jontur went from frightened to excited as he seized the split second to kick him with all his might, the pugilistic flames burning his fur as he was thrown backward spitting saliva.

  Jontur didn't stop, but advanced. Trax fought back, but the pain only intensified. The more energy he used, the weaker he felt, to the point where he only kept fighting through sheer willpower.

  The crowd was already booing, many angry at losing their money, not because of the reason he was losing.

  It was then that Trax used all his power for one last attack, feeling that he could no longer move after that, Jontur advanced as he struggled to his feet, the pugilistic flames pulsed, concentrating on a single point. Jontur swung the mace downwards towards his head, but he didn't dodge. He felt the impact, which almost made him faint, but his attack was ready.

  One punch, that was all he had and he gave it his all.

  The man's eyes widened as, faster than he could react, the punch struck his left ribs. The impact was tremendous, the clear sound of bones breaking and Jontur's scream rang out, silencing the audience, but Trax was already unconscious, his body falling inert to the arena floor.

  The audience was shocked, Jontur was thrown flying while screaming, but Trax fell and passed out.

  Jontur screamed a few more times before collapsing as well, blood trickling rapidly from his mouth.

  The referee remained silent, as did the audience, but something seemed to be heard on his communicator, because the next moment he swallowed hard and spoke. - Double knockout, but Trax passed out first, so the winner is Jontur!

  The audience went wild, shouts of irritation, shouts of excitement, and shouts of astonishment... everything spread in a deafening cacophony.

  But on the other side, Ringo was already looking at the fallen figure with interest, Trax.

  (Ringo Pov)

  Perhaps besides Ringo, other races could sense the man's emotion, or perhaps psychics could do the same, but none of them would be as interested as Ringo.

  No despair, no resentment, nothing that represented any kind of injustice or guilt, the man's feelings were flat from the start, showing a fierce desire to win above all else.

  Even in the final blow, Ringo felt a peak of calm, a calmness that contrasted with the previous ferocity.

  Like a warrior facing death, he used 110% of his power, surpassing any limit, a single movement to declare something.

  Even in death, he would die fighting head-on.

  Ringo froze right there. He'd never seen anyone so idiotic and yet so inspiring. What kind of mentality is that? One that can throw everything away to make a point clear?

  Ringo couldn't understand it, he was very attached to his own life, but Trax seemed the complete opposite, able to use it as a bargaining chip to make a point.

  Of all the possibilities he had considered, there was only a small chance that he hadn't fainted first, and therefore, had won.

  But the man wasn't so lucky, well, at least Ringo bet against him, so Ringo felt good about having won some money for nothing.

  (A/N: Yes, it was Ringo's luck that turned the slim odds into zero, if he had bet on Trax, the outcome could have been different.)

  But at the same time, he had a good impression of Trax, this type of upright person was a double-edged sword, but that didn't matter much. Integrity isn't the same as goodness, as long as it doesn't affect your morality, someone with integrity can still be a villain.

  Thinking about Trax's auction a few days later, Ringo smiled, he already knew where he was going to spend the money he'd earned.

  Hokah was still tearing his hair out in frustration over the losses, cursing Trax, so he didn't notice when Ringo's figure slowly walked away.