The stadium concourse was a maze of polished tile, fluorescent lights, and echoing conversations. Following the intermission, the crowds were slowly filtering back toward the main viewing areas, leaving the outer hallways relatively clear.
Ryu O'Hara walked with his hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets. He was looking for a quiet corner. The lunch with the Beigoma BeyClub had been an overwhelming barrage of volume. Valt Aoi apparently possessed an infinite lung capacity, and Rantaro Kiyama operated strictly at a shouting decibel. It was exhausting, though Ryu had to admit, not entirely unpleasant. It was just loud.
He turned a corner toward the East Wing observation deck, hoping to find an empty bench. Instead, he found a roadblock.
A massive, six-foot-tall plush mascot of Senor Hanami, complete with a giant foam microphone and oversized sunglasses, was wedged firmly in the doorway of a promotional booth. The person inside the suit was thrashing wildly, their muffled voice echoing from within the foam head as they tried to free themselves from the doorframe.
Ryu stopped. He stared at the giant, struggling mascot.
He didn't laugh. He didn't offer to help. He simply stood perfectly still, observing the structural failure of the costume's shoulders against the standard dimensions of a stadium door. It was a fascinating display of poor spatial awareness.
"Out of my way. You're blocking the hall."
The voice came from behind him. It was sharp, carrying an unmistakable tone of practiced arrogance.
Ryu glanced over his shoulder. A boy with bright blonde hair swept up into an immaculate spike was standing there. He wore a purple jacket draped casually over his shoulders like a cape, a gold chain resting against his collarbone. He was flanked by two larger, silent boys who looked more like bodyguards than friends.
Ryu looked at the blonde boy. Then he looked back at the giant Hanami mascot, which had just lost its foam microphone to the floor in a desperate bid for freedom.
Ryu stepped slightly to the left, offering the boy a clear view of the blocked hallway.
The blonde boy's eye twitched as he took in the sight of the stuck mascot. He let out an exasperated sigh, waving his hand dismissively. "Unbelievable. The logistics of this tournament are a joke. You'd never see something this pathetic at the Murasaki training facilities."
The boy turned his attention back to Ryu, his sharp blue eyes narrowing. He looked Ryu up and down, taking in the loose black jacket and the heavy launcher holstered at his belt.
"Wait. I recognize that launcher," the blonde boy said, taking a step closer. A haughty smirk crossed his face. "You're the guy from Block C. Ryu O'Hara. The one who won his match in eight seconds."
"Yes," Ryu said. His voice was completely flat.
"I'm Wakiya Murasaki," the boy announced, puffing his chest out. He waited for a reaction. When Ryu gave absolutely none, Wakiya frowned, adjusting his purple jacket. "I watched your match. You have a decent defense type, I'll give you that. It held the center well against a rookie."
"Thank you."
Wakiya crossed his arms. "But don't think that little party trick is going to work on the real competitors. A heavy mass in the center is nothing but a sitting target for a blader with actual technique. My Wyvern would tear it apart in three seconds."
Ryu blinked slowly. He analyzed Wakiya's posture. The boy was confident, heavily funded, and clearly believed his own hype. Ryu found it mildly interesting. People who bragged usually had an incredibly fragile baseline.
"Three seconds," Ryu repeated quietly.
"Exactly," Wakiya bragged, leaning in. "In fact, I'm feeling generous. Your Bey has a unique layer weight. I want to study it. I'll give you fifty thousand yen for it right now. You can drop out of the tournament and buy yourself a hundred standard Beys."
Ryu looked at Wakiya. He looked at the two bodyguards. He thought about his own private island, the unlimited funding he had access to, and the fact that Eclipse Nidhogg was hand-milled from alloys Wakiya probably didn't even know existed.
Ryu reached into his pocket and pulled out a single, crumpled coupon for a discount crepe he had gotten on the street yesterday. He held it out toward Wakiya.
"What is this?" Wakiya demanded, staring at the slip of paper.
"A counteroffer," Ryu said smoothly. "You take this, and you stop talking to me."
Wakiya's face turned an impressive shade of red. His jaw dropped, and he took a step back, completely scandalized. "Excuse me?! Do you have any idea who you're talking to?! I am Wakiya Murasaki! I'm going to win this entire block!"
"Good luck with your matches," Ryu said. He slipped the coupon back into his pocket, turned, and walked past the still-struggling Hanami mascot, effortlessly slipping through the narrow gap between the foam head and the doorframe.
"Hey! Don't walk away from me!" Wakiya yelled down the hall.
Ryu didn't look back. The interaction had been entirely absurd, but it provided a solid baseline. Block C was packed with massive egos.
---
Ryu eventually found his way back to the main viewing stands. The second round of Block C was officially underway.
He intended to stand near the back rails, out of the way, but a loud, familiar voice immediately shattered that plan.
"Over here! Ryu! We saved you a seat!"
Valt was standing on a plastic chair in the fourth row, waving both arms frantically. Rantaro was desperately trying to pull him down by his jacket. Several people in the surrounding rows were glaring at them.
Ryu let out a slow, quiet breath. He could have ignored them. He probably should have. But the data from Valt's Rush Shoot was still fresh in his mind, and sitting with them offered a closer look at their dynamic.
He walked down the concrete steps and slid into the empty seat next to Daigo.
"You didn't have to come sit with us if you didn't want to," Daigo said quietly, adjusting his black bandana. His tone was neutral, but observant.
"It's fine," Ryu replied. "The acoustics are better from this row."
"Next up in Block C!" Senor Hanami's voice blasted from the speakers. "We have the dark horse of Beigoma Academy, Daigo Kurogami! Facing off against the heavy-hitting stamina of Yugo Nansui!"
Daigo didn't say a word. He just stood up, his face cast in a calm, serious shadow. He walked down the steps toward the competitor tunnel.
Valt leaned over Rantaro to look at Ryu. "Daigo is super smart. You gotta watch this. His Bey, Doomscizor, moves like nothing else!"
Ryu leaned back in his chair, resting his arms on the armrests. He watched as Daigo stepped up to the stage. His opponent, a boy with long green hair and a stern expression, looked completely unbothered.
"Ready... Set!"
"Three! Two! One!"
"Go Shoot!"
Both Beys hit the stadium. Yugo's Bey, a solid Stamina type, immediately rushed the center, stabilizing with a smooth, frictionless spin.
Daigo's launch was different. He didn't pull straight back. He jerked the launcher slightly to the side at the exact moment of release.
Doomscizor hit the plastic and immediately began to act erratically. It didn't circle smoothly, and it didn't rush the center. It jittered. It bounced slightly on its performance tip, moving in sharp, jagged zig-zags across the stadium floor.
Ryu's grey and pink eyes tracked the movement perfectly. *The tip is off-center,* he noted instantly. *It's intentionally unbalanced. A Quake driver. It trades stamina for unpredictable attack angles.*
"Tear it up, Doomscizor!" Daigo yelled, his calm demeanor snapping into a fierce intensity.
Doomscizor struck the Stamina type. But because of its jagged movement, the hit didn't connect evenly. It struck with a downward, slicing angle. The heavy scythe-like contact points on Doomscizor's layer caught the opponent's rim and violently yanked it upward.
*Clack!*
The Stamina type was thrown completely off balance, its driver scraping harshly against the plastic. It wobbled, trying to recover its center of gravity, but Doomscizor was already bouncing back for a second hit.
*Clack! Clack!*
"Quake Shoot," Daigo called out.
The unpredictable bounces made it impossible for Yugo's Bey to properly defend. The third hit caught the locking mechanism directly.
*Burst.*
"Burst Finish! Daigo Kurogami takes the win!"
The crowd cheered. Rantaro and Valt leaped out of their seats, high-fiving each other.
Ryu stayed seated. He looked at Daigo as the boy caught his Bey and walked off the stage. It was a highly tactical approach. Daigo relied entirely on destabilization rather than raw power. If Daigo fought Nidhogg, he wouldn't aim for the center; he would try to catch the upper edge of the hollow layer and force a tilt.
It was a good strategy. It wouldn't work, because Nidhogg's locking weight would instantly shift to counter the tilt, but it was a smart theory.
"See?!" Valt grinned, sitting back down as Daigo returned to the stands. "I told you he was smart!"
"It was a calculated use of an unbalanced axis," Ryu said, giving Daigo a very faint, respectful nod. "smart."
Daigo blinked, clearly surprised by the compliment from the guy who had effortlessly crushed Shu. "Thanks."
"Attention competitors," the PA system chimed. "Block C, Match 14. Ryu O'Hara and Jin Aizawa, please report to the main stage."
Ryu stood up. He brushed a stray piece of lint off his black jacket.
"Show 'em what you got, Ryu!" Valt cheered, completely unbothered by the fact that Ryu was technically his rival.
Ryu walked down the concrete steps, the noise of the crowd washing over him. When he emerged from the tunnel and stepped into the blinding lights of the main stage, he felt a familiar, quiet focus settle over his mind.
His opponent was already waiting.
Jin Aizawa was a tall, thin boy with pale skin and dark bags under his eyes. He looked like he hadn't slept in a week. He stood completely still, staring at Ryu with an unblinking, unsettling gaze.
"I've been watching you," Jin whispered, his voice carrying an eerie, quiet echo even without a microphone. "I watched your first match. You just sit in the center. You think that would work everytime ."
Ryu stepped up to the stadium. He pulled his heavy launcher from his belt and snapped Nidhogg onto the prongs. He didn't respond. He didn't care what Jin thought.
"My Bey, Jormungand," Jin continued, holding up a dark green and silver layer, "is a Stamina type. But it doesn't take the center. It hunts from the outside. If you sit in the middle, you'll just spin out while I watch."
Ryu looked at the green Beyblade. He analyzed the smooth, aerodynamic layer and the wide, low-friction driver. Jin was right. It was a pure survival build. If Ryu dropped Nidhogg into the center and didn't take any hits, Nidhogg's internal weights wouldn't click to the outside. It would remain a stationary mass. And without taking hits, it would eventually lose to Jormungand's superior, frictionless spin time.
Jin was planning to play a game of attrition. He was going to circle the edge and wait for Ryu to die.
Ryu tilted his head slightly. The corners of his mouth twitched, threatening to form a very small, very dangerous smirk.
*He thinks I only know one launch,* Ryu thought.
The referee raised his hand. "Second round match! Ready... Set!"
"Three!" Jin called out, his eyes widening in anticipation.
"Two," Ryu whispered.
"One!"
"Go Shoot!"
Jin ripped his cord with a smooth, pulling motion. Jormungand hit the stadium floor and immediately banked up toward the outer slope, riding the high ridge with a terrifyingly fast, silent rotation. It completely avoided the center ring.
Ryu didn't flick his wrist this time.
He gripped the heavy launcher firmly, tilted his arm at a precise thirty-five-degree angle, and pulled the ripcord with a sharp, explosive snap of his elbow.
The sound of the launch echoed over the microphones—a harsh, aggressive mechanical whine.
Eclipse Nidhogg didn't drop into the center.
It hit the mid-slope of the stadium at an angle. The moment the plastic made contact, the jagged rubber edge of Nidhogg's 'Phantom' driver caught the surface. Because Ryu had launched it with actual force this time, the heavy internal weights of the layer were already straining against the lock.
Nidhogg didn't sit still. It screamed.
A blur of dark violet and silver tore across the stadium. It didn't take the center. It rode the slope, climbing higher, its rubber driver gripping the plastic with ungodly traction.
Jin's eyes snapped wide open. "What?! It's moving?!"
Up in the stands, Shu Kurenai stood up out of his seat. Rantaro dropped his paper fan.
Nidhogg was speeding. It matched Jormungand's trajectory on the upper ridge, but with double the speed and triple the mass. The dark Bey caught up to the green Stamina type in less than two seconds.
Ryu stood perfectly straight, his mismatched eyes tracking the blur. He finally spoke, his voice cutting through the silence of the stunned arena.
"Eclipse Dive."
Nidhogg banked sharply, cutting off Jormungand's path. It dropped from the highest point of the ridge, utilizing the downward slope and its massive weight to create a crushing, unblockable impact.
It slammed directly onto the top of Jormungand.
The collision sounded like a gunshot. The sheer downward kinetic energy instantly overwhelmed Jormungand's locking mechanism. The green Bey didn't even bounce. It just crumpled under the pressure.
*Burst.*
The three pieces of Jormungand hit the stadium floor, entirely dead.
Nidhogg hit the center ring, the rubber edge disengaging, and settled onto its sharp, frictionless center tip. It spun peacefully, humming its quiet, victorious tune.
The entire WBBA stadium was dead silent. They had expected an eight-second staring contest. Instead, they had just witnessed a high-speed execution.
The referee blinked, shaking his head to snap out of his shock, and raised his hand toward Ryu. "Burst Finish! Two points! Ryu O'Hara advances to the third round!"
The crowd exploded. It was a mix of cheers, gasps, and frantic whispering.
Jin fell to his knees, staring at the shattered pieces of his Bey. "It... it chased me. How did a Defense type move like that?"
Ryu stepped forward and picked up Nidhogg. The metal was warm. He looked down at Jin. He wasn't arrogant, just entirely factual.
"It's a Balance type," Ryu said simply. "You miscalculated."
He turned and walked away, the stadium lights reflecting off his silver hair.
As he walked back up the steps to the spectator stands, the BeyClub looked at him like he had just grown a second head.
"Dude," Rantaro breathed, pointing a shaking finger at Ryu. "You actually attacked."
"He used a banking launch," Shu said quietly, walking over from the aisle. His red eyes were locked onto Ryu. "He intentionally utilized the outer rubber edge of his driver right from the drop to generate immediate offensive momentum. It was flawless."
Valt was practically vibrating, his stars in his eyes. "That was so cool! It was like a giant dark hawk swooping down! Whoosh! Bam!"
Ryu stopped at the edge of the row. He looked at Shu, registering the intense analytical stare. He looked at Valt, registering the pure, unfiltered hype.
He reached into his pocket, pulled out a cold can of sweet milk tea he had bought from the machine earlier, and popped the tab. He took a sip. It was much better than the black coffee.
Ryu said nothing, taking his seat next to Daigo again. He leaned back, his eyes turning toward the large tournament bracket displayed on the monitors.
His name moved up to the next tier.
He took another sip of his tea. The matches were getting faster and sharper. And for the first time, he was actually curious to see who would step up to the stadium next.