TRAINING ROOM – DOME BASEMENT
The room was empty, except for a regular, almost mechanical sound. Thump. Thump. Thump.
Kotobe was on the floor, arms extended, body straight as a board. 2,000 push-ups. He had started at dawn. The sun, through the dirty portholes, had slowly crossed the floor to reach his shadow.
His arms were burning. His scars, still fresh from his fight against Lena, were stinging. But he kept going. Because stopping meant accepting that the pain had won.
The door slid open.
Pinky entered, wearing a simple pink tracksuit, her arm still in a sling. Behind her, One, hands in his pockets, calmly chewing a protein bar.
And in the doorway, immense and silent, Nagato, Pinky's bodyguard, crossed his arms and watched.
"1,987… 1,988…" Kotobe counted between breaths.
Pinky crouched beside him, a smirk on her face.
"Seriously? You've got a fight in two hours and you're doing 2,000 push-ups?"
"1,989…" Kotobe didn't stop. "Viper is patient. So am I."
One approached, still chewing. He looked at Kotobe, then at the floor, then back at Kotobe.
"...Why on the floor?"
Pinky rolled her eyes. "Never mind, One."
Nagato, still leaning against the wall, spoke in a deep voice:
"Endurance won't be enough against Viper. He analyzed Luna in two minutes. He'll find your weaknesses."
Kotobe stopped. He stood up, dripping with sweat, arms trembling.
"2,000," he breathed. Then he looked Nagato straight in the eye. "I know. But I'll hide them where he won't look."
Nagato held his gaze for a second, then slowly nodded.
"...Good luck."
He turned on his heel and disappeared into the corridor.
Pinky stood up, looked at Kotobe.
"You're going to beat that damn snake."
Kotobe smiled, tired.
"I hope so."
One, as he left, gave him one last look.
"...Bite him."
"Huh..?"
Pinky burst out laughing. Kotobe, perplexed, watched him walk away.
——
NANO-NEKO PLATEAU – SEMI-FINALS SPECIAL BROADCAST
The screen displayed counters at 25 million connected viewers. Comments scrolled at a dizzying speed.
Lola, resplendent in a tournament-colored dress, opened the show with her predatory smile.
"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! WELCOME TO THE SEMI-FINALS OF THE ACOLYTE TOURNAMENT! AFTER BREATHLESS QUARTER-FINALS, WE HAVE TWO EXCEPTIONAL MATCHES TODAY! BUT BEFORE THAT…"
She paused dramatically.
"LET'S TALK ABOUT THE NEW DRINK THAT'S DRIVING ALL NETWORKS CRAZY: NANO-BANANA ENERGY DRINK! AND WHO BETTER THAN THE BOSS OF NANO-NUTRITION HIMSELF TO TELL US ABOUT IT? WELCOME… IRON-TANK!"
The split screen showed Iron-Tank, massive, motionless, in a sleek studio with Nano-Banana colors.
"The new drink," he said in his gravelly voice, "contains 40% more natural Ether than competitors. Available in three flavors: Strawberry-Banana, Hero Punch, and…" A pause. "…Classic."
On Nano-Neko, reactions were flying.
Katty, an aspiring blogger with 500k followers, did a live M-boxing, opening all three bottles at once, tasting them with exaggerated grimaces.
"SO! The Strawberry-Banana, 8/10, tropical taste but chemical aftertaste! The Hero Punch, 9/10, it stings, I love it! And the Classic…" She took a sip, paused, then screamed: "10/10, FOLKS, IT'S LIKE DRINKING VICTORY!"
Nearby, SashaNeutron_K7, a small blogger with usually 17k followers, had seen his live explode to 1 million viewers simply because he had tagged #NanoBanana.
"FOLKS, LISTEN TO ME!" he screamed, overexcited. "IF WE REACH 10,000 DONATIONS, I'LL DRINK THE WHOLE BOTTLE IN ONE GO!"
Donations poured in. He drank. He vomited. The live reached 2 million viewers.
Meanwhile, K2B, in his own live, had a very different discourse.
"FRIENDS, LET'S BE SERIOUS FOR TWO SECONDS. KOTOBE AGAINST VIPER. DO YOU REALLY THINK THE ADAPTOR IS GOING TO WIN? VIPER DESTROYED BO, DAMN IT! BO! THE GIANT WHO TANKED EVERYONE! KOTOBE IS GOING TO GET RIPPED APART, IT'S MATH."
The comments agreed.
The_Pacificator3X, a recognized purist of the circuit, posted a scathing analysis:
"Kotobe is a hype phenomenon. Nothing more. His technique relies on analysis and adaptation. But Viper? Viper has already faced an analyst. Luna. And he read her like an open book. Kotobe has NO chance. Those who bet on him are throwing their money away."
Shaia-Kawaii, a popular streamer, added:
"Plus he's ugly, I seriously can't stand him anymore. His touching story is nice but at some point you gotta move on. #TeamViper"
The Kotobe hype, immense after his victory against Lena, had collapsed like a soufflé. The networks, those weathervanes, had found a new favorite: Viper, the reformed one, the assassin with a heart.
In his training room, Kotobe looked at his switched-off phone on a bench. He knew what people were saying. He didn't care.
Kanata wasn't fighting for others. He was fighting for what was right.
He put on his fighting tracksuit and went out.
——
MAIN ARENA – KOTOBE vs VIPER
The crowd roared. Banners waved. But the chanted names had changed.
"VI-PER! VI-PER! VI-PER!"
Viper entered first, calm, focused, his daggers gleaming with a dark sheen.
Kotobe entered. Whistles mingled with polite applause. The public, true to itself, had already forgotten his exploits.
"KO-TO-BE!" shouted a small voice in the crowd. A single one. A girl with an #Adaptor t-shirt.
Kotobe glanced at her and nodded. Just for her.
— FIGHT!
Viper attacked immediately.
No observation round. No testing. Pure efficiency, forged by years of hunting. His daggers traced deadly arcs toward Kotobe.
Kotobe dodged. Blocked. Retreatеd.
But Viper was everywhere. Every attack was calculated, every feint was a lesson.
THWACK. A blow to the liver.
THWACK. A blow to the jaw.
THWACK. A blow to his already fragile ribs.
The poison from Viper's daggers began to take effect.
Suddenly.
Kotobe fell to his knees.
The crowd exulted.
"ALL HE DOES IS FALL!" someone shouted.
"FINISH HIM, VIPER!"
"HE'S TOO WEAK!"
Viper looked at Kotobe, on his knees, gasping.
"Give up," he said. Not meanly. Almost kindly. "You fought well. But you've reached your limit."
Kotobe looked up. His eyes shone, but not with tears. With rage.
"My limit," he spat, "What limit…"
"Me… a limit."
"WHO DECIDED THAAAAT!!"
He tried to get up. Viper broke his right arm with a single blow.
CRACK.
The crowd screamed with surprise and unhealthy excitement.
Kotobe collapsed, pain shooting through him like lightning. His arm hung, useless.
"GIVE UP!" Viper shouted, a hint of frustration in his voice.
Kotobe got up on his good arm. He staggered, but stayed standing.
Viper, exasperated, broke his left arm.
CRACK.
Kotobe fell heavily onto his back, both arms broken, breath knocked out, eyes fixed on the blinding ceiling.
The silence in the Dome was heavy. Some looked away. Others, crueler, snickered.
"— It's over.
— He's too stupid, he wouldn't give up.
— He didn't deserve to be here."
Kotobe heard everything. The words, the laughs, the judgments. Every sound was a sting.
And then, in the fog of pain, he heard another voice.
"A hero must be indestructible."
Kanata. Smiling. Arms spread wide. Imitating Captain Man in that vacant lot.
Kotobe clenched his teeth.
I'm not a hero.
He rolled onto his side.
But I am indestructible.
He got to his knees. Then standing. His arms hung useless, but he was standing.
Viper, astonished, stepped back.
"But you're… are you crazy?! YOU HAVE NO ARMS LEFT!"
Kotobe didn't answer.
A thought crossed his mind.
He saw a familiar silhouette internally.
It was his father holding him in his arms.
"Who's daddy's good baby, who is it?"
"Aaahh… but that hurt, honey, come see the kid bit me, and he didn't hold back."
Kotobe's mother came running.
"What are you talking about… he doesn't even have teeth."
"Oh… my, but you're bleeding."
The image in his head stopped there. Kotobe stood up with a carnivorous smile on his lips.
And he charged.
Not a graceful run. A charge of a wounded, desperate, animal beast.
Viper, surprised by this madness, tried to stab him with his dagger.
Kotobe put his hand into the blade.
The metal pierced his palm, came out the other side. The pain was a white explosion in his brain.
But he didn't stop.
He grabbed the dagger – with his impaled hand – and tore it from Viper's fingers.
Viper, horrified, watched him do it.
Kotobe, his hand pierced, the dagger still stuck in it, jumped.
He bit.
His teeth sank into Viper's throat. Not to kill. To destabilize him. To make him understand he was no longer dealing with a fighter, but with a survivor.
Viper screamed, from surprise and pain. He grabbed Kotobe by the hair, tried to tear him off.
Kotobe pulled him back by the hair – with one hand, the other useless – and threw him further away.
They rolled on the ground, separated.
Kotobe got up first. He was crying. No shame. From pure pain. His arms hung, his hand bled profusely, his jaw was covered in Viper's blood.
But he clenched his fists.
An absurd gesture. His fingers no longer responded. But in his head, in his heart, he was clenching his fists.
He thought of Captain Man. Of episode 446. The one Kanata had made him watch over and over, the one where the hero, beaten, broken, had gotten up for one last attack.
"The Golden Punch," Kanata had said, eyes shining. "He puts everything he has left into a single blow. After that, he collapses. But before… he strikes."
Kotobe charged.
Viper, still dazed from the bite, saw him coming. He tried to raise his dagger.
Too late.
Kotobe's fist – his broken arm, his pierced hand, all his will concentrated – exploded against Viper's jaw.
"GOLDEN PUUUUUNCH!"
The cry tore through the arena.
The impact was so violent that Viper lifted off the ground, spun through the air, and crashed heavily five meters away.
He didn't move again.
Kotobe, on his knees, arms covered in blood, face twisted with pain, remained still for a second. Then he fell forward, forehead against the ground, and started to cry.
Not from joy. From relief. From pain. From everything.
Viper moved.
A spasm. Then another. Slowly, painfully, he got to his knees. He groped for his dagger, found it, grabbed it…
And collapsed, unconscious, the dagger falling from his hand.
The referee approached, counted.
— EIGHT… NINE… TEN! K.O.! WINNER: KOTOBE!
Silence.
Then an uproar, divided, confused, incredulous.
Kotobe, still on the ground, lifted his head. His lost eyes searched for the referee.
"…Did I win?"
The referee nodded.
Kotobe struggled to his feet. He staggered, almost fell, caught himself. Then he raised his broken arms to the sky, a radiant smile on his bloody face.
"I WON! I'M IN THE FINAL! I'M IN THE FINAL, DAMN IT!"
He hopped, fell, got up, hopped again. He was crying, laughing, screaming.
The audience, despite their criticism, despite their mockery, couldn't help but applaud.
"KO-TO-BE! KO-TO-BE! KO-TO-BE!"
But on the networks, it was a whole other story.
#KotobeAnimal: 20M views.
#BiteDisgusting: 15M views.
#HeIsWeird: 12M views.
Comments rained down, acidic:
"— He bit his throat! That's disgusting!
— He fought like a rabid dog.
— Eww, I can't stand him anymore.
— That's not a fight, that's animal survival.
— He's ugly, he stinks, he bites… what is this guy?"
Kotobe, lying on a stretcher, looked at his phone. He saw the comments scrolling by. The insults. The mockery.
He smiled.
Kanata would be proud.
——
AFTER THE MATCH, NETWORKS IGNITE FOR SOMETHING ELSE
Suddenly, an explosive post.
#ONEvsGRANN
Everything else faded.
Kotobe's 20 million views were eclipsed by 50 million in ten minutes. Comments changed target.
"— THE FIGHT OF THE CENTURY!
— THE ENIGMA AGAINST PERFECTION!
— ONE IS GOING TO GET DESTROYED.
— Or not. Did you see Chloé?
— Chloé vomited, that's not a fight.
— GRANN IS INVINCIBLE.
— No one is invincible."
— Yes, Grann is.
— OH…MY GRANN IS SO HANDSOME.
— We're talking about fighting here, go be a whore somewhere else.
The arena screen went dark, then lit up again.
Two silhouettes appeared.
One, hands in his pockets, calmly chewing gum, staring into space with his usual expression.
Grann, perfect, motionless, eyes fixed on his opponent with a new intensity.
In the corridor leading to the arena, Grann stopped for a second.
He closed his eyes.
I must be perfect. I am perfection.
I cannot lose.
He entered…