Part-283

  The referee called the match for Tisha, and the crowd erupted in cheers.

  The match was between Sourov, James's heavyweight teammate, and a formidable oppo named Ivan. Ivan was a massive man, t over Sourov by almost a foot. He was also incredibly strong, and he had a reputation for being a ruthless petitor. Sourov, oher hand, was a skilled tei who relied on his speed and agility to overe his oppos.

  Ivan was using his size and strength to try to intimidate Sourov, but Sourov was unfazed. He khat he had to be patient and wait for the right moment to strike.

  Finally, Sourov saportunity. Ivan had made a mistake, and Sourov seized the moment. He executed a perfect osoto-gari, sweeping Ivan off his feet and sending him crashing to the mat. Ivan was stunned, aruggled to get back to his feet. Sourov quickly capitalized on his advantage, pinning Ivan to the mat and f him to submit.

  Finally, it was time for his own match. His heart raced as he stepped onto the mat, the crowd’s cheers fading into the background. This was it. This was his moment.

  As the referee called for the match to begin, James locked eyes with his oppo, determination burning in his chest.

  The atmosphere in the indoor stadium buzzed with anticipation. The rhythmic hum of the audience filled the space, a steady backdrop to the hushed versations and sporadic cheers. The tour was well underway, and Banani High’s Judo team had just ed up their sed victory of the day.

  James stood at the edge of the mat, his heart still rag from his most ret match. The adrenaline of the petition coursed through his veins, but there was a ess in his posture that reflected the growing fidehin him. He could still feel the weight of the st moments when he had activated **Sloth View**, his body shifting into that hyper-focused state where everything around him slowed down to a crawl. His oppo had been formidable—strong, aggressive—but the moment James tapped into his system’s ability, the match had been over before his rival even realized what was happening.

  The referee’s whistle rang out, pulling James from his thoughts. He blinked and goward the ter of the mat, where the official raised his hand and called out the result: "Banani High, victorious!"

  The stadium erupted in cheers, the students and spectators alike r with approval. The referee’s annou was a formality at this point; James’s victory had sealed their 4-0 win against Mirpur Academy. Even though there were two petitors left who hadn’t yet fought, the oute of the match was already decided. The remaining pyers wouldn’t o pete. Banani High had dominated from start to finish.

  James stepped off the mat, rolling his shoulders to ease the tension. His muscles ached, but it was a good kind of soreness, the kind that reminded him of how much he’d trained, how hard he’d pushed himself to get to this point. His teammates were gathered he benches, a chorus of ughter and high fives greeting him as he approached.