The day of the final was one most will never forget, at least for those who were in attendance. Jude’s morning started with waking up, hoping to god he hadn’t done something stupid, checking his bed and then his phone. Going through his morning wake-up routine in the bathroom.

Then once dressed and ready for the day it was time to pack up. They were allowed to leave their luggage in the hotel’s storage room but they couldn’t stay in the room after 10 a.m..

Though he had checked if there was anything incriminating on his social media when he woke up, he now properly went through his phone; since he had slept the Americans had woken up and experienced his match.

The whole tournament thing was a much more American affair. Like their college football it made mini celebrities out of people who had only just stopped being children. Not only that, it was a violent thing such as UFC. Finally, it’s main propagator was Victor Chevalier, an American businessman who had got streaming and advertising rights with the highest bidders. The system fed itself like an ouroboric money making factory. However, it did benefit it’s participants as Jude would find out; the leagues set up after would have talent scouts from guilds lining up to try and get themselves the best of the best to increase their standing in their own system.

The new thing was that Jude’s personal Instagram that contained a handful of pictures mainly of him and friends suddenly increased in followers. The biggest standout was by a verified account called Flair. According to his bio he was a king and he had over 100,000 followers.

After a mild bit of cyber sleuthing Jude put the phone down and did as they had been instructed; vacate the room and take your luggage with you. He took one last longing look at this small room. A room where he’d spent the last week of very high highs and mild lows. Sure it was merely a hotel room but it was actually better than the one his university had given him to live in for the year.

Compared to previous days there were a lot more people in the reception area when Jude arrived. A majority had left check out until the last minute, thus leading to a congestion at the baggage storage. Which is where he saw Jack, Rin, and Damian arguing.

“Jude, come here! I need you to settle something.” Jack called out. Jude placed his bag down and walked over to his friends.

“Jack let me tell him.” Damian spoke up. “Right so basically Jack wants to name his new move. He wants to go with ‘Time Punch’, I think ‘Hell Sender’ would be way cooler. And Rin, he-“

“Don’t care. Don’t drag me into it.” He said with a smile.

“So what do you think?” Jack asked.

“Well what’s the move?” Jude responded.

“So it’s when I slow time down and punch someone and it’s stronger.” Jack said plainly. Jude spent a moment being stunned. He was trying to think of something that would work but also was baffled by how simple it was.

“Okay well if you wanna have moves that actually, you know, are similar we need a naming scheme. For example One Punch Man has a bunch of different styles of punches like normal punch, serious punch. So if we use time...” he paused for a moment. “Why not something like Time Smash or Crash? Then you can add submoves onto it.”

“Jude that’s worse than Time Punch... I love it!” Jack said gleefully.

The boys sat down in the arena, sitting right at the front to see their friend. There were about thirty seats in everyone’s box, with the fact it was the last day and Jack fighting all of the Mana-Script team had shown up to watch this, filling most of the seats. Even the lecturers who came with them were taking up seats. In fact the stadium was packed, it was second only to the opening day in terms of numbers. Which matched the online viewers too, everyone was excited for whom it was meant to be.

Entering on one side, Jack Lumber; a hand to hand fighter with the ability to slow down time.

From the other, Kira Brooks; a hand to hand fighter with the ability to bond with a select number of weapons and summon them to her at will.

Jude hadn’t paid too much mind to her before, sure she was a skilled combatant but during his first day of observation she did not stand out. And during the match prior where he would have fought the way she would have on this day Jude and Jack were too mentally exhausted to stay and watch and both needed to collapse.

In this competition, she was the only wildcard to Jude. Which meant Jack had no advice from his friend, but there was not a single person on Mana-Script’s bench that did not believe he would win.

“Fight!”

The combatants met in the middle, Kira had a dagger on her that she was using to slash at Jack, whom in turn reached for a knife in his back pocket to parry the attacks. It was clear Jack was uncomfortable wielding weapons beyond just throwing them, especially when he was being forced on the back foot. Kira, however, was adept with the short blade she used and was pressuring him.

Slashes were the main form of attack, but experienced combatants know that you should always mix up your moves and not let your opponent get the upper hand. Hence, Kira threw in stabs, thrusts, and even a couple punches and kicks.

Though, this break in rhythm allowed Jack to realise something: he was stronger and if he put a little more power behind his defence he could create an opening.

The next slash that came his way allowed him to test this theory; it came at him, straight for his chest. Slowing down time he wound his arm back and then thrust his blade downwards towards her’s. The steel clashed and Jack’s won. Kira was sent towards the floor, she was able to stay on her feet but her chest and arms had crumpled down into her.

Jack went to slash his opponent. He came to abrupt stop upon seeing the fear in Kira’s eyes. In her like green eyes he saw himself going to strike a defenceless girl and it struck him to his core.

Jack was man of a misunderstood chivalry. He would not strike a woman if he did not have to, even in this case stopping even if he should have carried on. He would not insult a woman unless she truly wrong him. Even if she would like to him, he believed a man should forgive. However, he had entered a tournament with woman as his opponent and in this moment his resolved wavered due to the fear this woman exuded. Unfortunately for Jack, the chivalry he so strongly upheld in his life was nothing more than a relic of a more unfair past: chivalry had originally been a code of honour for knights and that included women. As times changed and sexism became more prevalent in culture the weak eventually turned to just woman, whom it was assumed could not protect themselves.

What Jack did not appreciate is Kira had gotten to the finals in a glorified martial arts tournament with a power that only really enhanced her hand to hand combative abilities. The one other thing he was unaware of was her tactic of praying on chivalry of overconfident men.

A smile curled on her lips as she sliced upwards, sending Jack’s only knife to the other side of the bubble, now unreachable. Whilst no mark was left, the power used to release the knife from his grip did sting his palm.

Disoriented, a distraction came into his eye line; a knife. It was spinning upwards, in a straight line.

This is where a downside of Jack’s power being automated somewhat came in: it would only slow down by itself if there was a fatal threat. So Kira slamming her body weight into his foot, not fatal thus no slow. It did however, trigger the old effect before he realised what his power really was; the hairs on his neck and arms stood up and he could sense something was about to happen. Not acting upon it led to his foot getting crushed momentarily.

Kira span round, catching the knife, and using the rotation to increase the power of a thrust. Two hands on the handle, pushing towards Jack. Fatal. Time slowed by itself. Given the extra power the speed he moved it provided Jack caught Kira’s blade by grabbing her hands. The two were locked in a battle of strength, one of them had a free hand though.

He wound his right arm back.

Realising that no amount of acting scared would save her here, Kira braced.

Jack’s fist crashed into Kira’s left cheek.

The young woman spun mid air. She had leant into the punch and used it to assist her own rotation.

Her knife flew out of her hand, embedding itself in the floor.

The reckless rotation broke and she landed on both feet, blood trickling from her lip.

She wiped the blood and spoke for the first time to Jack. Her voice was deeper than he expected, and more sultry, “Let’s dance handsome.” She jumped up on the spot slightly and shook her hands.

She was on him in seconds. It was clear from the first strike that she was not a trained fighter, like Jack she was a brawler not a martial artist. The ebb and flow of ballet like dance two fighters perform was gone; the harsh strong movements were closer to a ceremonial display.

Kira held resentment in every strike. Jack was able to take her hits and dish them out back. She was slightly weaker but it was clear this guy didn’t put in effort. She was strong not through natural gift but hard word and dedication. But after coming to University she encountered people like Jack, those who were just naturally stronger than her through birth. The new curriculums that were being made for all universities teaching the Alterations courses involved a lot of combat training and this allowed Kira to develop this resentment but also strategies to beat them.

She pulled back from a strike only for her knife that has been resting in the ground to spring to life and fly into her hand. Slicing a small cut into Jack’s side as it pinged back like Thor’s hammer. Jack was now aware of her alteration and able to account for it, not that he’d think much just he could keep it in mind.

An assassin without their weapon is still an assassin, but when that weapon becomes one with your body it is as if you handicap yourself. The dagger was part of her body. And at the moment it was as if her only priority in life was to use it to the fullest.

Jack picked up cut after cut, yet he did not back down he held his own. At one point he was able to smack the dagger out of her hand. It was retracted almost immediately but in that time Jack was able to remove his shirt and craft a makeshift bag to hold the knife in. It always came to the user handle first it seemed so he was able to capture it nicely.

The trick worked not only worked to stop the knife but also because his bare chest, which resembles a bear’s chest with the amount of fur on it, distracted his opponent for a moment.

A moment. A strike. Jack sent her staggering back.

Back to their brawl.

She got close to him, her left fight going for his face.

Time slowed.

Why did time slow, sure she hit hard but a punch wasn’t fatal.

Then it kicked in, the weird feeling of something heavy moving in his stomach. It was a knife.

She had summoned it into her right hand and directly into his stomach. It had not flown as previous but just appeared there and made room for itself.

So now he was shirtless and bleeding.

Luckily for him her knife was being pulled to her, with him attached. A trainer placed itself in his chest and the knife yanked out whilst he fell to floor. Blood oozed from the wound and dripped from his mouth. He wouldn’t stay conscious for too much longer. He couldn’t .

Deception was seen as a cowards tactic and yet Kira employed it in spades. Deceit may be for cowards, but cowards can win fights if they get it right.

Jack struggled to his feet. His fingers and toes began to tingle as they were losing blood. He felt the need to be sick but nothing came to his throat. Vision didn’t blur but it felt weird, focusing was hard and lights seemed to become stronger. A general numbness overcame him.

If he were to win it would have to be in one punch. So, he marched forward.

The final technique that had been hidden: the blade dance. Throwing the weapon at a curve, moving her hand and then calling it back. It allowed for the blade to fly in the air.

Kira used it on Jack, he dodged the fatal ones by batting the knife away. For the most part he took all the small scrapes and cuts and just kept moving forward.

Unfortunately Kira had been backed into the corner of the arena. She now could not move around Jack without being within his reach.

He wound up again, the fear struck her. She did not want to lose. Of course she didn’t, if there was no gain for doing so not many would.

Here it came, Jack’s strongest punch. His Time Smash. Slowing down time to it’s absolutely limit and then blasting a punch. His fast made contact with Kira’s forehead.

It had no power behind it, as the attacker collapsed gently on the floor. Blood loss finally kicked in.

The winner of this match and tournament was Kira Brookes.

The crowd erupted into cheers for her victory as Jack was teleported outside of the ring.

“Apologies to cut the celebrations short. But please return to your groups contestants and every university please board the next train home, your lecturers are informed and will guide you out.” Jack and Kira were shooed away by the announcer. Not before Jack grabbed his t-shirt and Kira looked at him making a phone with her fingers and pointing to herself.

Everyone was being escorted out. The walk out of the arena was like trying to get into an amusement park the moment it opens. There were people everywhere, filing passed. Some with bags to crash into if you got pushed, others just doing their best. It wasn’t the worst situation it was however inconvenient and annoying.

Once they were free of the crowd and the Mana-Script team were with Alex Mann it was Sol who spoke up, “Alex, what’s going on here?”

“Two students were murdered last night. We’re evacuating everyone immediately for safety.” Cold and angry. That’s how he sounded in his reply. He’d spoken about these subjects before.

Stunned to their cores the students listened to their lecturer and kept moving to grab their luggage.