The Almighty Dominance

Word of the duel between Michael "The Thunder Fist" and Alex-the unknown underdog mocked as "the Loser"—had swept across Paris like wildfire.

Crowds thirsty for blood and spectacle poured into the city, drawn by the promise of ruthless entertainment.

Everyone knew Michael as the ruthless enforcer for the Guise family, the governor's personal executioner.

No one had ever survived a fight after crossing the Guise clan.

Eager to witness the carnage firsthand, spectators had arrived at the arena gates before dawn, waiting impatiently for entry.

Alex stood at the front gate of the Paris arena, his eyes wide in shock. "I never expected such a massive crowd."

Lyra stood beside him, shaking her head.

"This place usually puts on dull fights just to keep the crowd mildly entertained."

"But when Michael enters the ring, it turns into a bloodthirsty spectacle. People pack the arena not to cheer-but to watch someone die. No one's ever left alive after facing him."

"Seriously, no one?" Alex asked, disbelief edging his voice.

"Never. All referees here answer to the Guise family," Lyra explained grimly.

"In Paris, the Guise family's word is law. If they say left, no one dares say right."

Alex smirked, determination flaring in his eyes. "Then wouldn't it be humiliating if they lost?"

Lyra's eyebrows arched skeptically. "Lost? Are you actually confident you can beat him?"

"You doubt me?" Alex challenged.

Lyra leaned in, lips curving into a sly smile.

"Not exactly. But the betting odds are twenty-to-one against you. If you win, my money multiplies twentyfold—and it's Guise family cash, which makes it even sweeter."

A dangerous gleam lit Alex's eyes. "And if I put down a billion dollars?"

Lyra's eyes widened, her breath catching sharply.

"Do you really have a billion dollars?" she whispered, biting her lip as excitement flushed her cheeks.

"Can you handle the winnings if I do?" Alex replied evenly.

Suddenly, Lyra grabbed his arm tightly, trembling with excitement as her legs squeezed together involuntarily.

Alex frowned in confusion. "What's wrong with you?"

Her face flushed deeply, tears of overwhelming excitement glittering in her eyes.

"Alex, I think I just climaxed imagining winning twenty billion dollars. Oh, God— there it is again."

Alex shook his head, laughing softly.

"I'll transfer the funds to you. Just manage them wisely."

"Alex," Lyra murmured breathlessly, her face burning red as she looked up at him, "Do you mind if we make love before the fight? I don't think I can hold myself back anymore."

Alex raised an eyebrow, feigning seriousness. "Maybe I should cancel the transfer."

Lyra's overheated body instantly turned cold, as though doused in ice water. "What? No!"

Alex burst into laughter. "See? You can handle it."

Realizing she'd been tricked, Lyra punched his arm playfully.

"Damn you, Alex! Don't mess with me like that!"

Around them, the Paris Arena surged with anticipation, a ten-thousand-seat coliseum packed to the rafters.

Alex surveyed the arena floor, noticing other fighters still locked in brutal, unresolved conflicts.

Here, violence was routine-a quick and savage way to settle scores between rivals, gangs, or businesses.

Lyra walked confidently beside Alex, weaving through the crowd as they made their way straight toward the VIP section of the arena.

Alex had barely taken his seat when he noticed the old man next to him staring intensely, sizing him up with sharp, calculating eyes.

The elderly figure leaned closer, his voice low and rough like gravel.

"Young man, you've got solid bones, powerful muscles, and an aura of strength that I rarely encounter," Rudolf began.

"I don't offer this lightly. Become my disciple-the next Sky Tiger warrior."

Alex turned sharply, confusion flickering in his eyes. "Disciple? I don't even know who you are."

Before Rudolf could reply, a woman emerged beside him, her face twisted into a sneer. She eyed Alex as if he should bow in reverence.

"Listen closely," Joey said arrogantly.

"You should be thanking your lucky stars and every god in heaven right now. People spend years begging my father, kissing the ground he walks on, just for a chance to be noticed."

"But you? He picked you. So don't just sit there-get on your knees and show some damn gratitude."

Alex stared at her, stunned and incredulous.

He shook his head slowly, realizing this had to be one of those cursed days where

he ran into the worst kind of people.

"I'm sorry-what did you just say?"

"My father can mold you into a legendary fighter," Joey continued, her voice filled with venomous pride.

"You'll be unstoppable-rich,

powerful. Settle any dispute just by

walking into the arena and

destroying your enemies. So why are

you still standing there? Start

thanking my father." noveldrama

Alex glanced again at Rudolf, barely concealing his amusement.

This old man was hardly level 30 at best, and yet he wanted to teach someone already beyond level 100?

"Thanks, but no thanks," Alex replied firmly.

Joey's face turned crimson, anger exploding through her features. "You ungrateful

piece of trash! You should be honored that we even noticed you!"

Rudolf leaned forward, flaunting rings heavy with gold.

"Young man, this chance won't come twice. Think carefully-being my disciple is a path to glory. Just a few techniques, and the world will chant your name." fo

Alex smiled politely, completely unmoved. "Again, I appreciate the offer, but I'm not interested."

Joey shot up from her seat, trembling with rage, glaring down at Lyra.

"Girl, maybe you should teach your boyfriend some manners—and get him to train under my father."

"At the very least, he might learn a real skill or two. That way he won't be totally useless the next time you're in trouble."

Lyra's eyes flashed dangerously as she rose calmly to meet Joey's gaze.

"Alex is already stronger and better than your pathetic father. Keep your pathetic sales pitch for someone who cares. We're not buying."

"You arrogant little bitch!" Joey hissed, closing the distance between them with

fists clenched. "Say that again!"

Lyra stared unflinchingly. "You heard me clearly the first time, bastard."

Rage surged through Joey's veins. Without thinking, she raised her hand to strike

Lyra, her reflexes fast and deadly.

Alex exhaled sharply, his expression like ice. In one smooth motion, he channeled

his inner energy and caught Joey's wrist mid-swing.

Joey froze, eyes wide in disbelief as her arm hung motionless in the air,

powerless.

Before she could pull back, Lyra's palm whipped across her face with a brutal crack, the slap echoing through the room like a gunshot.

"You dare lay a hand on her?" Rudolf shouted, springing to his feet, his eyes blazing with protective fury.

But Alex moved first. His hand clamped down on Rudolf's arm like iron, stopping him dead in his tracks.

"When women are fighting, a gentleman stays out of it," Alex said, voice low and razor-sharp.

Rudolf's lip curled into a sneer. "You insolent brat!"

He jerked violently, yanking his arm back and driving his other fist straight at Alex's face with a brutal, unforgiving swing.