The alarm kept ringing nonstop.
Sannya woke up with a gloomy expression, dragging herself out of bed. She looked outside her window.
"The weather is… too good for a day like this."
She washed up quietly.
Downstairs, her mother served toasted bread, an omelet, and mango juice. Milk was never an option for her.
But Sannya wasn't tasting anything. Her father looked up from the newspaper, concerned.
Her mother frowned—strict as always about food.
"Stop overthinking and eat."
If only they knew that all her thoughts were on Taarush.
Meanwhile, Taarush had spent the night at Robert's house, repeating the new technique until his muscles screamed.
Robert, who normally woke up late, had barely slept either. Rushing to work, he threw water on his face, sprayed perfume over himself, dressed, and left.
Hours later, Taarush woke up, body sore and heavy.
He saw a note on the table:
"Take the painkiller and eat. Good luck for the fight. —Robert"
He froze.
So he knew about the duel.
In the Hell Room, Sam waited impatiently.
The basement was packed—students yelling, betting, cheering.
Sam sat shirtless inside the ring, muscles bulking like a beast. He lit a cigarette, smoke swirling around him.
Lord and Ram watched through CCTV.
Jhon, the referee, stood by the ring silently.
Three hours passed.
People were about to leave when—
THUD—!
The doors slammed open.
Taarush appeared.
The entire room went quiet. Something heavy filled the air—something dangerous.
He walked toward the ring slowly.
"REMOVE YOUR SHIRT!
It's against the rules!" someone shouted.
Taarush pulled off his shirt.
Everyone fell silent.
His entire upper body was wrapped in tight bandages—arms, chest, ribs.
He looked half-broken already.
Jhon walked over, concerned.
"Dude… you sure you're okay?"
Taarush didn't speak.
He just nodded.
Jhon announced the rules:
"Tap the floor or say 'give up.' That's it."
Harsh.
No escape.
Sam mocked him instantly. "Hah! You're dead today. I'll sell your organs—"
WOOSH—
Sam blinked. Taarush was no longer in front of him.
Behind him—
A fist gently touched Sam's back.
Taarush exhaled:
"You're the one who's going to die."
CRACK—!
Ribs broke.
Sam was sent flying across the ring.
The crowd exploded in screams, but Jhon's eyes widened.
He understood instantly:
Taarush used a one-inch strike while Sam had no weight on his heels.
Sam stood up—shaken but not beaten.
"How are you not yapping now?" Taarush said coldly.
Sam rushed in using fast boxing footwork—
A blur of punches.
Taarush blocked, but the impact was brutal.
His guard shattered under the pressure, and Sam saw an opening.
He swung—
Only to get clipped on the chin by Taarush's sudden hook.
Sam dropped to his knees.
On the sidelines, Sannya gasped—
Taarush was winning.
THUD—
Before Sam could recover, Taarush collapsed to the floor as well.
Jhon froze.
Lord's smile stretched unnaturally wide.
"Finally… I've found someone worth betting on."
Taarush later woke with his head resting on something soft.
Sannya's lap.
"It's okay… Just rest," she whispered, voice trembling but relieved.
Far away, at Master's place…
Veer examined his ring finger thoughtfully.
"Master… is there someone who can actually see a punch before it comes?"
Master smiled behind his mask.
"When your mind goes numb and you enter the flow state,
instinct takes over.
Sight becomes sharper than thought."
He leaned back.
"But I wonder…
who in this school can enter that state?"