The result was clear.
The outcome stood right in front of everyone.
Exactly sixty seconds had passed, and Alex was still standing.
No wounds.
Not even a scratch on his body.
For those watching, it was hard to believe. And not for just one reason.
First, this was not like Alex's previous fight with Jimmy, where the use of qi had been forbidden. This time, qi was allowed. That meant Jimmy was free to attack with his full strength, without holding anything back.
But Jimmy was not the only one given that freedom.
Alex was allowed to use qi as well, along with any technique he possessed. And he had relied heavily on the rocket movement to survive.
By using the rocket movement, Alex boosted his speed in short bursts. Each push sent him sliding, leaping, or shifting at the right moment. Combined with his spiritual eyes, he could both sense and see the qi blasts coming at him.
Not just flashes of power.
Not just pressure in the air.
He could track them clearly.
Because of that, Alex avoided every single attack. He moved before the blast reached him, twisted just enough, jumped just high enough, and never stayed in one place for long.
And just like that, sixty seconds passed.
Jimmy failed to land even one hit.
As expected.
Yet Alex wasn't happy.
Not even a little.
'How… how did I let myself get carried away?' Alex thought, his jaw tightening.
'I didn't mean to win.'
From the start, his intention had been simple.
Lose the fight.
End it clean.
Avoid being chosen for the battle royal.
Instead, he was still standing.
'Does sixty seconds really go by this fast?' Alex thought.
'I'm sure if I were doing something boring, it wouldn't feel like this.'
While evading Jimmy's attacks, he had gotten carried away. Too focused on movement. Too focused on timing. Somewhere along the way, he forgot about the clock—and worse, he forgot his original plan to lose the fight.
"This is bullshit…" Jake said out loud, pointing straight at Alex.
"He didn't even try to attack his opponent," Jake continued, his voice sharp.
"Is this how you plan on winning this tournament?" Jim added. "You send him in so he dodges every attack until the other side can't move anymore, then you name him the winner?"
Their words rang through the hall. Loud. Clear. And honestly, they made sense.
Alex felt a small flicker of hope.
'If they push this angle hard enough, maybe I'll be excluded,' he thought.
"They're both right," John said after a short pause. "The boy didn't attack at all. This tournament isn't a game of dodging. It's a contest of strength and offense."
Lucius smiled.
It wasn't wide.
It wasn't smug.
But it was confident.
"Two days ago, he chose that skill to learn," Lucius said calmly. "Eddie's skill. By all logic, it should have been impossible."
He glanced at Alex briefly.
"Yet the boy learned it in two days. Not mastered it—but learned enough to use it. Enough to last a full minute against a stage four warrior."
Lucius took a slow breath.
"Now imagine what he'll be able to do in two months."
For a brief moment, something passed across the faces of the triple Js. Surprise. Doubt. Unease.
It vanished almost immediately.
But the seed had already been planted.
"The tournament is in two months," Lucius said evenly. "There is still plenty of time to work on the boy."
His gaze swept the room, sharp and unbothered.
"You suggested this fight. The boy met the condition and exceeded your expectations."
That was it.
No more arguments. No more debate.
The decision had been made.
Alex was joining the Paragon Battle Royal.
Jimmy stood there, frozen, his jaw tight. Anger burned hot in his chest, mixed with embarrassment he couldn't swallow. His fist clenched so hard his knuckles went pale as he started walking toward the others.
Before he could reach them, they turned and walked away.
Not a word.
Not a glance.
It was obvious. They were avoiding him.
Jimmy stopped mid-step. His thick fingers curled tighter, nails digging into his palm. He turned his head slowly, his eyes locking onto Alex with a look that burned.
The triple Js left the throne room shortly after, their footsteps heavy against the floor.
Alex didn't move right away. He remained behind for a moment, standing alone in the throne room as the noise faded and the space emptied.
Jimmy eventually caught up with the others in a wide hallway deeper inside the estate. Zephyr, Lennox, Isla, Clifford, and Henry were already there.
"You are a disappointment," Zephyr said flatly, staring straight at Jimmy.
"I thought Isla was overreacting after the last fight," Zephyr continued, his tone sharp. "But this? What just happened now? It proves he was right."
Isla, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, scoffed.
"I told you all," he said coldly. "He's weak. And he doesn't deserve to wear the golden cloth."
"Maybe we shouldn't have put in words to let him into the clan," Isla added, his voice sharp. "And if he's like this, who's to say Henry isn't the same?"
"You—" Henry snapped, taking a step forward.
"You are so arrogant," he continued, his tone rising. "Why didn't you take the chance to fight him when it was right there in front of you?"
He didn't stop.
"Oh… or maybe, deep down, you were scared," Henry said. "Scared you might lose."
Isla pushed himself off the wall. His jaw tightened. His fist curled slowly at his side, knuckles hard.
"Enough!" Clifford shouted.
His voice cut through the tension like a blade.
"You people get worked up and turn on each other every time that boy is mentioned," Clifford said, breathing hard. "It makes me wonder if this is even the right clan for me and my people."
The words landed heavy.
No one spoke right away. The heat in the hallway began to cool, little by little.
Zephyr didn't look at the others. His eyes stayed on Jimmy.
"I wanted that fight," Zephyr said calmly. "You said you wanted it too. And once again, you disappointed me."
He took a step closer.
"You will find a way to clean up this mess," Zephyr continued, his voice low. "Or I will have you stripped down to the white clothes."
The threat was clear.
With that, the trio turned and walked away. Clifford paused just long enough to shoot Jimmy a brief glance before following them.
Henry lingered behind.
"Don't worry, Jimmy," he said quietly, leaning in. "We'll make sure Alex pays for what he did."
His lips curled into a thin smile.
"Together. Tonight. That boy will wake up wrapped in bandages, with wounds that won't fade for at least a week."
---
Meanwhile, back in the throne room, everyone had already left. Alex remained there alone for a brief moment, standing in the quiet and thinking about what to do next.
He had been pushed into a situation where he had no real say. No vote. No choice. Now he had to find his own way through it.
'First, I need to understand what this Paragon Battle Royal is really about,' Alex thought.
'And if no one here is willing to explain it to me properly, then I know a few people who might,' he added.
With that, he straightened up and left the throne room.
As he walked down the hallway leading to his room, Alex slowed. A man was standing there, waiting. His eyes were locked on Alex, and a small, unreadable smile sat on his face.
"You did well," Lucius said. "Your movement was precise. Clean. No wasted steps."
Alex didn't answer right away.
"But I can't help wondering," Lucius continued, his tone calm but sharp, "how you were able to see every single qi blast."
Lucius took a step closer. The smile faded.
"So tell me," he said, his face turning serious, "who taught you how to use the spiritual eyes?"