Alex watched Rudolf's sluggish movement with disdain and flicked his finger sharply, knocking Rudolf's hand away.
Rudolf's arm shot back as if struck by a bullet, dragging his entire body backward.
His whole frame crashed violently into nearby chairs, scattering them in all directions.
Joey, eyes wide with panic, dashed toward his father. "Father! What happened?"
"I—I slipped," Rudolf stammered, struggling to stand upright.
Several spectators rose from their seats, quickly surrounding Rudolf.
"Sir Rudolf! Are you alright? What's going on here?"
Their worried faces made it clear they recognized him.
Before Rudolf could answer, Joey pointed an accusing finger toward Alex.
"Listen up, everyone! This thug tried to molest me, and when my father stepped in to stop him, he attacked him!"
"You lying bitch!" Lyra exploded, her voice shaking with fury.
"Is every word that comes out of your filthy mouth a twisted lie?"
"Shut your dirty mouth!" Joey snapped back, venom in her voice.
"Your disgusting excuse of a man tried to put his filthy hands on me! And now you're defending him?"
Two burly men stepped forward aggressively, glaring menacingly at Alex.
"So this is your idea of bravery, huh? Harassing a woman and then assaulting an elderly man? Let's settle this in the arena!"
"Yeah," chimed in another, cracking his knuckles. "I'll teach you the meaning of respect, you gutless creep!"
The growing commotion attracted even more onlookers, and soon the entire crowd murmured with outrage, spreading whispers like wildfire:
A pervert had assaulted a woman and attacked an elderly man.
Suddenly, the commentator's voice thundered over the loudspeakers, filled with mockery.
"Well, ladies and gentlemen, breaking news! Alex, our resident loser, apparently couldn't keep his hands off a lady and even attacked an elderly man—before he's even faced Michael! What a pathetic coward!"
Jeers erupted throughout the stadium.
"I'm hearing the crowd wants justice! How about we get this scum into the arena right now to teach him a lesson in manners?"
"Get up there, you spineless coward!" shouted someone from the crowd.
"Try fighting someone your own size for once!"
The spectators burst into chants, their voices rising like a storm.
"To the arena! To the arena!"
Lyra looked anxiously around, seeing a sea of angry faces and pointing fingers, all aimed directly at Alex.
She leaned close, voice trembling, "Alex, I think we've just fallen right into their trap."
Alex shook his head calmly, his eyes cold and defiant. "Don't worry. Their little trap is far too weak to hold me. I'll crush it under my foot soon enough."
Abruptly, the shouting spectators parted like waves, allowing a towering figure to stride confidently toward Alex.
The crowd hushed with anticipation.
The massive man, muscles bulging beneath his clothing, stopped inches from Alex, sneering with contempt.
"You're either incredibly brave or incredibly stupid—harassing a woman and attacking an old man when you're already scheduled to be Michael's punching bag.”
“If you're so eager to die, why wait? Let's settle this now. I'll send you straight to hell myself."
Alex met the man's aggressive gaze without flinching, his voice calm and dripping with disdain.
"Don't jump to conclusions yet. It's still unclear who's taking that trip to hell."
"You? Beat me?" Bill stared in disbelief, then erupted into loud, mocking laughter, his chest heaving.
Soon, the crowd joined in, their ridicule raining down on Alex.
Rudolf, sneering viciously, stepped forward, his voice filled with scorn. "You arrogant little fool! Do you even understand who you're talking to?"
Pointing proudly at Bill, Rudolf continued harshly, "This is Bill, the number two-ranked knight in Paris, second only to Michael himself! You're not brave—you're begging to be torn apart!"
Bill strode confidently into the empty arena, grabbing the microphone with a vicious grin.
"Alright! Who wants to watch me pound some respect into Alex—the filthy coward who attacks women and beats up old men? I say it's time we teach him a lesson in humiliation!"
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