Frame by frame, the recording began to play on the massive screen.
The ceremonial leaf floated downward, twirling in the air. The audience leaned forward, eyes fixed, the silence so complete that even the faint creak of chairs echoed.
The leaf brushed the platform. At that exact instant, Noah moved.
In slow motion, the crowd could finally see the truth. He had not cheated. He had not moved before the signal. He had simply launched forward with such terrifying speed that, in real time, it had looked impossible. The instant the leaf touched, his body shot across the platform, and by the time most eyes registered the signal, he had already crossed more than half the distance between him and Hiroshi.
Gasps rippled through the stands. Content originally comes from novel[f]ire.net
One spectator clutched the railing in front of him. "Oh god... how can a human body accelerate like that? He went from stillness to full sprint without even building momentum."
A wealthy patron shook his head, fanning himself nervously. "Do you see this? The best runner in the world covers one hundred meters in a little over nine seconds. That is with years of conditioning, perfect form, and space to build speed. Noah crossed half the platform in the blink of an eye—without a single step wasted. It was a pure burst with no buildup, but an explosion."
A sword enthusiast leaned over his notebook, scribbling furiously. "It is not natural. Even trained martial artists take time to shift their weight, to generate power in their legs. He bypassed all of that. His body answered instantly. That is more than talent... that is something else entirely."
Another spectator let out a nervous laugh, disbelief across his face. "If a man like that ran in a track race, he would cover ten meters before the rest even lifted their feet. What monster have they let into this competition? He had a sword in his hand too...he is terrifying."
Others simply stared at the screen, mouths slightly open, eyes wide with shock. They had seen prodigies and champions over the years. But none of them had ever witnessed such raw acceleration, such terrifying command over movement.
The replay ended with Noah’s strike landing on Hiroshi’s half-drawn guard, the thwack of wood against wood echoing once more in their minds. The crowd burst into another wave of chatter, some voices raised in awe, others in unease.
"It wasn’t cheating," one man muttered, almost dazed. "It was worse...he is just that fast."
Even those who had doubted him at first fell silent, the replay burning into their minds. What they had just seen was not merely talent. It was dominance of the body itself, something that placed Noah far beyond the reach of normal fighters.
After the announcement had been made, the referee raised his hand for silence once again. His voice carried across the hall. "There will be a ten-minute break before the next match begins."
It was a necessary pause. The semi-finals were not just matches; they were events to be remembered, spectacles worthy of every second of attention. The crowd needed space to digest what they had witnessed, to let the replay sink into memory.
Yet the break was short, only ten minutes. These were not ordinary spectators with empty schedules. They were men and women of wealth and influence, people whose businesses, investments, and dealings followed them wherever they went. Even here, many clutched phones in their hands, murmuring to assistants or scanning messages, juggling the demands of power while awaiting the next clash.
From the stands, Kenzo leaned forward with his elbows resting on his knees. His usual smug grin had slipped away, replaced with a deep frown that shadowed his facial expression. For the first time, he studied Noah with genuine focus. He had always dismissed him, always believed Ichigo was the more dangerous prey, the one worth hunting. Noah, in his eyes, had been nothing more than an obstacle to brush aside.
But what he had just witnessed challenged that mindset. The replay had stripped away doubt. Noah was not ordinary, not even close.
Kenzo’s lips tightened.
The thought stung; he did not enjoy being wrong. And yet, even as that truth pressed on him, his confidence did not waver. Whether it was stubborn pride, blind faith in his own abilities, or a certainty born of something hidden, Kenzo clung to it. He would not bow, not even inwardly. His answer would come soon enough. Tomorrow would reveal whose conviction was built on reality and whose on delusion.
As for his opponent in the semi-finals that would come in the next few minutes, Kenzo did not give him too much attention. In his eyes, Liam was nothing but a stepping stone towards his victory.
Elsewhere in the spectator seats, Liam sat in silence, arms folded across his chest. His gaze followed Noah, but unlike Kenzo’s, it carried no challenge. His jaw clenched, the skin around his eyes drawn tight as he thought back to the fight. The speed, the skill, the way Noah dominated Hiroshi without pause, it was beyond anything he could match.
The bitter truth pressed into him like a stone sinking in water.
I can’t win against this guy... He exhaled sharply, almost a laugh, though it held no humour. He’s not human...He’s a monster.
Whilst the spectators did their own thing, whether working, texting, calling or even chatting to their neighbouring seat. For Kenzo and Liam, the break was not a chance to relax. It was a moment of reckoning, each forced to confront Noah Carter in their own way.
Kenji looked more visibly upset than Hiroshi was, but he was unable to do anything about it. The evidence was as clear as day.
Looking at the expression his friend was making, Hiroshi shook his head with a tired smile before turning his head towards him.
"Let’s go, Kenji. There is nothing left for us here to do...we can only try to get stronger for the next tournament."
Kenji nodded his head grimly as he helped his friend walk. The medical team tried to intervene, but Hiroshi had already shook his head telling them there was no need.
The mercy that Noah had shown him was visible.