"Xiang Nan wins!"
"… …"
"Xiang Nan wins!"
In the heated atmosphere of the tournament grounds, each time the referee announced Xiang Nan as the victor, there was no roar of excitement—just a heavy silence.
The soldiers had grown numb. Because no matter who fought Xiang Nan, the result was the same as Monté's. As soon as the whistle blew, his opponent would collapse, unable to stand.
And each time he won, Xiang Nan calmly explained the "why" behind it, citing some obscure medical knowledge paired with martial arts technique. His victories defied logic—there was no time for anyone to even watch properly before the match was over. Every fight ended one-sidedly, with zero suspense.
Gradually, this tournament of the base's top fighters shifted into: Who could possibly stop this man? No one ever imagined a doctor could be this formidable—or that medicine itself could be applied so effectively in real combat.
"Xiang Nan… wins!"
"Xiang Nan…"
He'd now defeated more than twenty opponents, from all different units—instantly knocking out every single one. Because his matches ended so quickly, the two-day schedule was collapsing into a single day.
…
A new match began. In the ring, a soldier with the bearing of a "king of the troops" started by whipping out a roundhouse kick while keeping both arms up to guard his upper body. He'd clearly come prepared, wary of Xiang Nan's instantaneous attacks, and had a solid plan to counter him.
But he still underestimated Xiang Nan.
Xiang Nan lightly bounced backward, dodging the man's sweeping kick. And just as his opponent was recovering, Xiang Nan suddenly broke all logic—though he had appeared to be retreating, he lunged forward in a single bound. The visual effect was bizarre; he'd been moving backward but somehow ended up charging in.
"Bring it on!" the soldier shouted, confident. He'd seen Xiang Nan knock everyone out by targeting their upper body, so he believed his guard would save him from an instant loss.
Yet, the moment Xiang Nan closed in, the soldier abruptly lost his balance, unable to stand. His body tilted sideways, heading for the ground.
Xiang Nan had kicked out his legs, causing the soldier to stumble. Instinctively, he flung his arm down toward the floor, trying to brace himself. This automatic reaction left his upper guard wide open. Mid-fall, he caught a glimpse of Xiang Nan, silhouetted by the sunlight, raising a knife-hand strike overhead.
"Crap!" the soldier's pupils shrank.
Bang!
With a swift chop of his hand, Xiang Nan—still casually keeping the other hand in his pocket—barely glanced at his falling opponent. He struck the soldier's side in one clean motion. The soldier crashed to the ground in a puff of dust, his face turning beet-red as he gasped in pain, unable to breathe or stand.
"Don't panic," Xiang Nan said gently, glasses reflecting the light. "Your lungs just took a compression hit from your ribs. If you stay calm, you'll be breathing normally again in no time."
To Xiang Nan, at least this opponent was better than the earlier ones—he hadn't been KO'd in a single move but forced him to use a follow-up. In Xiang Nan's eyes, though, this level of fighter was full of weaknesses. Even if they protected their upper body, the lower half was left wide open, making their guard pointless. Besides, these soldiers were not trained, full-time martial artists and lacked practical experience in real combat. Their battle instincts were simple; even if they knew some techniques, pulling them off effectively under pressure was hard. Their reflexes just weren't fast enough.
Despite Xiang Nan's reassurance, the soldier's oxygen-deprived body reflexively tried to gulp air, mouth open wide, while the referee stepped in.
"Winner: Xiang Nan!"
Medics rushed in to carry away yet another defeated "elite." This tournament had gathered over a hundred top fighters from around the base, but Xiang Nan alone had already wiped out over twenty in record time. As a result, the entire schedule was cut short.
Now, the final three contestants remained:
1. Xiang Nan.
2. Garo, the favorite to win.
3. Sigma, a veteran who had often taken the championship in previous years, until Garo rose to prominence.
After witnessing Xiang Nan's latest match, there was still no cheering—nor any more jeering. People's gazes toward him had changed. They no longer saw him as a normal person, but as… a monster.
"Looks like it's just us three," Xiang Nan said, glancing at the two men standing together outside the ring. "No need for me to step out. So… which of you is going first?"
Garo was a short-haired soldier with a rugged face, wearing the Republic of Padokea's bluish-purple camouflage uniform and military boots. Sigma, beside him, had slightly longer, naturally curly hair and striking blue eyes, dressed in just a T-shirt.
"Sigh…" Sigma raked his hair in frustration. For a soldier, surrender was humiliating, and if there was even a shred of hope, he'd try to fight. Neither he nor Garo had "give up" in their vocabulary. But after watching Xiang Nan's matches, he simply couldn't find a single flaw. The doctor had never gone all-out; even after fighting all day, he wasn't sweating or showing the slightest sign of fatigue.
That said it all.
In Sigma's mind, even if he fought, he could only last maybe ten seconds tops—just to become yet another example in Xiang Nan's medical lectures.
"I forfeit," Sigma announced, raising his hand in genuine defeat.
Before he could finish, Garo was already stepping forward.
"Hey!" Sigma called out, recognizing that if he couldn't win, Garo probably couldn't either. "You'll just end up—"
"His physique isn't that strong, but he's clearly mastered some powerful martial styles," Garo said with a cold stare, stripping off his uniform jacket to reveal an extremely muscular physique on the verge of bursting his undershirt. He clearly wasn't willing to back down or let some new medic overshadow him—especially a rookie.
Sigma wanted to say more, but held his tongue. He knew as well as anyone that Xiang Nan's "weak spot" (lower physical stats) was completely overshadowed by his insane technique. By their standards, the gap was huge. But Garo's pride was just as big.
…
Swish.
Dust puffed under Garo's boots as he strode into the ring, tossing his jacket skyward. He slapped his cheeks, working himself up, then locked eyes with Xiang Nan.
"A true brave one commands respect from the heart," he said. "You're very strong… but I still believe in myself."
Hearing that, Xiang Nan slowly removed his glasses and clipped them to his collar. A warm breeze ruffled his hair as he smiled.
Then, gesturing with a single beckoning finger, he said, "So far, I haven't found much fun in these matches. But your challenge… that does excite me a bit."
"Come on. Let's play."