'Pathetic,' Toji thought, his cool gaze sweeping over the ugly display before him.
A subtle flicker of revulsion entered his eyes, though he made no effort to hide it. The boy who had been so full of boasts just moments ago now couldn't accept the sheer, undeniable reality of his utter defeat.
Souma stumbled back, his eyes wide and unfocused, not just at Toji, but darting wildly around the room, pleading. He turned to the Gorilla-senpai, a desperate, utterly forced smile plastered on his pale face.
"Senpai, he was cheating, right?" he blurted out, his voice thin and reedy, like a man grasping at the last shred of hope.
The moment those words left his lips, the Gorilla-senpai's face, which had been a mask of stunned surprise, hardened instantly. His brow furrowed, and his expression turned dangerously dark.
This wasn't just about losing; it was about undermining the integrity of this club and the very concept of a fair match.
Souma seemed oblivious to the change in his senior's demeanor. He looked frantically around the room, his gaze desperate, a dying man's last plea.
"How… how could it end like this?" His voice grew louder, bordering on a whine.
"You all saw it, didn't you? It wasn't real! I've been training with all of you! You know how hard I've been working! This… this couldn't have been my defeat!" His eyes, wide and bloodshot, sought validation from his fellow seniors.
But one by one, their faces contorted into expressions of profound discomfort, then open disgust.
They avoided his hopeful gaze, some turning their backs slightly, others simply staring blankly at the floor, wanting no part of his public unraveling.
Souma looked agitated, his limbs twitching, unable to stand still.
"Senpai, it must be a fluke, yeah? A fluke! Just one more round, Senpai! I can take him! It was just… I wasn't ready! My stance was off!" He rambled, his words coming in a frantic rush, refusing to accept the unvarnished truth of the lightning-fast Ippon.
The Gorilla-senpai took a deep, steadying breath, his chest rising and falling visibly. He didn't want this public spectacle to drag on any longer. His voice, when he finally spoke, was firm, leaving no room for argument.
"Souma. That's enough. You've lost. Get yourself together." The finality in his tone was absolute, crushing Souma's pathetic last stand.
The Gorilla-senpai's firm rebuke finally seemed to pierce through Souma's frantic denial, but it didn't calm him. Instead, it pushed him to a desperate, irrational edge.
"No! Senpai, I can't… I can't end it like this!" Souma's voice cracked, his eyes still wide and unfocused, his gaze now fixed pleadingly on the Gorilla-senpai. His entire body trembled with a mixture of shame and frenzied determination.
'My dignity as a man… I need another chance! I just wasn't ready.' Souma looked desperately, looking out for Touji, 'Yeah, the bet. He needs points right.' He remembered the talk between Toji and Gorilla-senpai.
"Please, Senpai! I'll double it! 200,000 points! I'll transfer it right now! Just one more match! I promise I won't disappoint you!"
His desperate plea hung in the air, drawing gasps from the assembled seniors.
"Two hundred thousand? Is he serious?!" a male senior near the back exclaimed, a mix of shock and greedy anticipation in his voice.
"Souma-kun… he's completely lost it," a girl whispered, her hand flying to her mouth in pity.
"This is just pathetic," another male senior sneered, turning his back entirely. "A sore loser of this magnitude… unbelievable."
'He seems completely broken,' one seasoned third-year thought, watching Souma's contorted face with a mixture of distaste and professional curiosity. 'To throw away 200k on bravado… he's truly desperate.'
The Gorilla-senpai's face, which had been a mask of stunned surprise, hardened instantly at the mention of "cheating," but now settled into a weary exasperation. He looked from Souma's pleading face to Toji's impassive one.
"Souma. That's enough. You've lost. Get yourself together. 200,000 points is no joke, and you lost fair and square."
'How?' Souma's mind screamed, his internal world crumbling. He had poured half his life into Judo, training relentlessly since he was a child, honing his technique, building his strength.
He was a strong contender, a hopeful for the upcoming inter-school competition, and he prided himself on his achievements.
To lose was one thing, but to be utterly, effortlessly dismantled in a mere second by this younger boy, who looked like he barely trained, who had casually talked about "tricks" from his "work" – it was inconceivable.
Souma had been so certain Toji was merely bluffing, an arrogant fool. But now… Toji hadn't even struggled for a single second.
He hadn't been forced to adjust, to fight for a grip, to exert himself in any discernible way. He had simply moved, and Souma had been on his back.
He might have been able to rationalize a loss if it had taken two or three hard-fought rounds, if Toji had wrestled with him, if there had been a struggle.
But to be defeated the instant the match began, without so much as a bead of sweat from his opponent, shattered his entire perception of his own strength and worth.
This wasn't just a loss; it was an annihilation of his pride, his dedication, his very identity as a judoka.
Toji looked at the man before him, a little smile touching his lips. He remembered a similar sight from the past, a long time ago, a man consumed by desperation and clinging to a fleeting hope for redemption, despite all evidence to the contrary.
Those memories had already faded into a hazy blur, but the pathetic display before him now brought a flash of amused recognition. Toji looked genuinely entertained.
"Wait a minute, Senpai." Toji's cool voice cut through the murmurs, stopping the Gorilla-senpai from dismissing Souma entirely.
He turned his gaze back to Souma, whose face, despite the flicker of hope that ignited in his eyes, still retained that disturbing, desperate, almost disgusting expression.
"I don't mind having another match." Toji stated casually, as if he was being asked to fetch a drink, not risk 200,000 points.
Souma's desperate smile widened unnaturally, a grotesque mask of relief. 'He… he actually agreed! This is my chance! My dignity… I'll show them all!'
"Are you sure, Toji?" The Gorilla-senpai asked, his brow furrowed in a mixture of surprise and concern. 200,000 points was a huge sum for a single match in the club's internal betting. He wasn't used to this kind of recklessness. Especially someone like Souma who looked level-headed.
"Yeah," Toji replied, his gaze still fixed on Souma, a subtle smirk playing on his lips.
The moment those words left his mouth, a collective gasp rippled through the other students. The intent behind it was crystal clear.
Toji wasn't accepting Souma's desperate offer of 200k out of magnanimity or even a challenge. He was simply setting his own fee for what he considered another effortless win, a calculated transaction. He had already won 100k, and now another 100k was already thrown his way.
And requesting another 100k for a single, quick round. He was playing for points, not glory.
'Foolish. He thinks he's bargaining, but he's just setting a price for his own humiliation,' Toji thought, his amusement deepening.
'Another 100k for what will likely be five seconds of effort. These rich Senpai are truly a goldmine.'
"Get in the position then," Gorilla-senpai said in a loud voice, after confirming Toji's casual approval for the rematch and securing the non-negotiable 100,000 points.
Now both of them stood opposite each other on the mat, the tension even thicker than before, laced with a strange, desperate energy from Souma.
Souma's stance was rigid, almost coiled. He stared deeply into Toji's eyes, searching for any flicker of an opening, any tell, any fluctuation in his expression or posture.
He was excruciatingly cautious this time, every muscle in his body tensed, every thought focused. There were no jokes, no mocking grins, only a desperate, almost manic determination to not repeat the humiliation.
It won't end like before,' Souma thought, but when he remembered the fight just beforehand, he felt a shiver down his spine. His usual arrogance, the pride in his well-honed technique, was now a thin, brittle shell over a core of growing fear.
'But I won't fall for the same trick. He thinks I'm a fool, a weakling. I'll show him what half a lifetime of dedication means! I'll endure! I'll grind him down!'
Toji, however, seemed utterly unaffected by Souma's intense scrutiny. He merely stood there, his posture still unnervingly relaxed, his eyes half-lidded and bored. He didn't bother with elaborate stances, just the casual readiness of someone who knew the outcome before the game even began.
'So sleepy,' Toji mused internally, a fleeting thought of mild disdain. He noted Souma's rigid tension, the slight tremor in his breathing, the desperate glint in his eyes. 'He's still relying on brute force and learned patterns. The slight fear has made him tighten up, making him even slower. It won't make a difference.'
"Hajime!" Gorilla-senpai started the match, giving a sharp nod, signaling the start of the match.
And as soon as the word escaped Senpai's mouth, Souma tensed his body, preparing to explode forward, ready for the lightning strike he knew was coming. He saw Toji shift, a blur that was already beyond him. Yet, in just a fraction of a second, faster than thought, Toji was right before him, not an instantaneous, but an unmoving, solid presence. His eyes, now wide open, were cold, flat pools that stared down into Souma's very existence, utterly devoid of emotion, devoid of effort.
This was a stare that conveyed an absolute, undeniable superiority, looking at him as if he wasn't even worth exerting any effort, as if Souma was just an obstacle, barely sentient, waiting to be removed.
'Ah,' Souma felt the air leave his lungs in a silent gasp. It wasn't just physical force; it was the sheer, overwhelming coldness of Toji's gaze, and the encroaching danger he was feeling that crushed every shred of hope, every last spark of spirit that had dared to believe he could defy this person.
He tried to make a small movement, a desperate counter, a last-ditch attempt to defend or escape, yet before his muscles could even fully respond, the world tilted violently.
THUD.
He was staring at the ceiling again, the cold tatami beneath his back, a profound, crushing understanding of his absolute insignificance washing over him. The silence in the dojo was thick, broken only by the heavy thudding of Souma's own heart.
***
End of Part-3, Just one more left it will be Released in moments later to few hours.