The audience members were shouting loudly, practically screaming for blood as the Mad Angel stood in the middle of the ring, raising his arms and opening them wide, as if trying to gather all the praise and adoration he believed he deserved. Mikajia simply ignored all the voices as he stood up and made his way down to the ring. He removed his jacket and tossed it aside before walking up the steps onto the ring. He was making sure there would be nothing to hinder his movements. He wanted to end this as fast as he could. The more quickly he could defeat this fool, the sooner he could get on with his previous tasks. And of course, it would utterly demoralize the man. But that was just an added bonus.
His focus was so intent, his rage boiling underneath caused his eyes to start burning red. He heard nothing from the audience; none of their banter, none of their cat calls, not even the positive ones or even the words from his opponent. He cared nothing of what they had to say, or what they thought. He merely stepped into the ring and readied himself, his rage practically sending a ripple around his body.
He barely saw the hand of the referee raise, signaling the beginning of the match, before he dashed forward. At the last second, right before he was directly in front of the man, Mikajia crouched then spun. He swung his leg out in an attempt to trip the man. However, his opponent was versed in dodging this. But Mikajia already knew that, and had planned for it. In one smooth motion, he came out of his spin and readied a kick. Bracing himself on the floor, he aimed a heavy kick at the man’s gut just as he came back down from his jump.
The man tried to block the kick to his gut, but only partially succeeded, the majority of the blow still landing hard. Mikajia removed his foot then launched into his assault, pummeling the man repeatedly with heavy blow after blow. He finally finished the target off with a massive uppercut, the strength of his hit lifting the man into the air a foot before he landed heavy on his back. He walked up next the side of the man before kneeling down and landing a blow on his solar plexus, instantly knocking the air out of him.
That’s when he leaned down next to the man’s head as he gasped, gripped his throat and said quietly next to his ear, “Get up, you die. Try to fight, you die. Try to use magic, you die. Never, show yourself around here again.”
With that, he stood back up and accepted his victory and his winnings, then left. Somehow, he felt this wouldn’t be the last time he would be visiting this place. But at least it provided some entertainment. On the bright side, almost no one was speaking after this victory. He simply continued to stare coldly ahead as he left. Nobody saying a word to him as he exited the arena.
WC = 1,421/1,000