While Momo supervised Akira's training, a montage began that looked suspiciously similar to a certain movie starring a certain Italian boxer who, for completely legal reasons, we are not allowed to mention.
First, we see him jogging through the snow.
Then doing push-ups.
Later, sit-ups.
And finally... trying to lift a twenty-two-pound dumbbell with his right arm.
Momo checked a notebook.
"Three seconds of running... two push-ups... half a sit-up... and zero reps with the twenty-two-pound dumbbell..."
She slowly closed the notebook.
"Good job... I guess."
Akira stood up with a face full of pride, as if he had just completed the hardest training session in history.
"Not bad."
At that moment, Aoi put a hand on her face.
"For the love of the gods, Momo... don't praise him. He's in the physical shape of a five-year-old."
"That's very optimistic," Minu added with a laugh. "I'd put my money on the five-year-old."
"I have no idea what this idiot was thinking..." Aoi muttered with a long sigh.
Akira turned his back on them and ignored them completely.
"You wouldn't understand... I have a carefully thought-out plan to win."
"He's going to cheat with his power," Aoi and Minu said in unison.
Akira sighed in resignation, as if he were already used to everyone doubting him.
"Using my last Parody Point isn't cheating."
He paused and pointed his thumb at his chest.
"It's making use of my true potential."
Aoi raised an eyebrow.
"That still sounds exactly like cheating."
"Details are for losers."
Akira started walking toward the exit.
"Don't worry..."
He adjusted the collar of his clothes with completely unjustified confidence.
"...I'll be the nervous one."
The three girls watched him in silence as the young otaku, whose grip on reality had stopped working several hours ago, confidently headed toward the dwarven coliseum.
************
Later that day.
************
To Akira's surprise, when he entered the coliseum, he found the stands completely packed.
Hundreds of dwarf women raised barrels of beer while booing him without mercy. Some waved signs supporting Emilia. He even caught sight of one splitting a boulder in half with her fist before pointing directly at him.
"Damn... this city's intense... And how did they put together a show this big in less than three hours?" Akira asked, swallowing hard.
"Well... there aren't many forms of entertainment in the mountains..." Momo replied shyly, hiding behind him.
"Besides... today the regent is competing."
In the center of the coliseum stood a massive ring. A magical microphone slowly descended from the ceiling in front of a man dressed in an elegant suit.
Akira stared at him for a few seconds.
"Of course... they have magical microphones... but not telephones..."
The man tapped the microphone.
TOC. TOC.
"Ladies and gentlemen!"
Akira raised an eyebrow.
"Wait a second... that voice..."
"That's right, average otaku! It's me! Marx Bufalo! The number one combat event announcer! And a professional violinist on a cruise ship every Monday and Wednesday!"
"It's good to see you again, sir... but... what are you doing here? Weren't you in Las Vegas?"
Marx let out a long sigh.
"Let's just say I owed a certain femboy god a favor..."
Akira decided there were some questions whose answers would only make his mental health worse.
At that moment, Emilia Stonebreaker appeared from the entrance tunnel like a world champion boxer.
She threw punches into the air while flexing every muscle in her body. The crowd roared with excitement after every pose.
"I'll pray for you, kid..." Marx whispered before returning to the center of the ring.
Akira swallowed hard again.
The girls took their seats in the stands while the announcer raised the microphone.
"IN THIS CORNER!!!"
"Standing four feet eleven inches tall... and weighing one hundred sixty-five pounds of pure muscle!"
"The woman capable of splitting a mountain with a single punch!"
"Undefeated with one hundred twenty wins, zero losses, and zero draws!"
"THE PROUD REGENT OF SNOWYTOWN!!!"
He took a deep breath.
"EMILIAAAAAAAAA STONEBREAKER!!!!!"
The coliseum exploded with cheers.
Mark then looked at the other card.
He blinked.
Turned it over.
Looked at it again.
"And... well..."
He pointed at Akira.
"His opponent is... that guy over there."
An awkward silence spread across the stadium.
"WHAT!? THAT'S IT!?" Akira shouted indignantly. "AREN'T YOU GOING TO SAY ANYTHING ELSE!?"
Mark showed him the card.
It was completely blank.
"Sorry, kid... that's all the production team gave me."
The silence became even more awkward.
Until a voice came from the stands.
"G-Go, Akira...!"
"You can do it, Master!" Cecilia cheered.
"You got this, Otaku-kun!" Minu shouted.
Then Aoi's voice echoed through the arena.
"JUST HURRY UP AND LOSE, YOU SKINNY LOSER!!"
Akira looked up at the stands.
"Thanks..."
He paused.
"I've never felt so... loved."
Akira climbed into the ring.
Emilia was already waiting for him on the other side.
In the center stood a sturdy metal table with two padded elbow rests and a massive steel grip designed exclusively for arm wrestling.
"Look at him... I thought he'd chicken out," Emilia said with a confident smile.
Akira smiled calmly.
"I'd never chicken out."
He raised one finger.
"First, because I'm a man of my word."
He raised a second finger.
"And second... because the plot won't let me."
Emilia looked at him without understanding a single thing.
She decided to ignore him and rested her arm on the pad.
"Good. That's what I like."
"Let's get this over with."
Akira walked over to the table.
"Aren't you going to buy me a coffee first?"
The dwarf tilted her head.
"What does coffee have to do with arm wrestling?"
"Well... uh..."
Akira cleared his throat.
"Never mind. It's a reference no one here was going to get."
He pulled out his device, which of course looked absolutely nothing like the transformation device used by certain colorful Japanese heroes.
"Just give me a second to get ready..."
The referee and Emilia exchanged confused looks.
Akira raised the device toward the sky.
"PARODY TIME!!"
A flash of light surrounded his body.
"TAKAO THE SAILOR!!"
He struck a pose like a TV superhero while the wind dramatically blew... a girl's sailor school uniform.
Silence.
Akira slowly looked down.
He was wearing a perfectly clean blue sailor uniform.
"..."
"Damn it..."
"The device mixed up 'Sailor' with 'Sailor Fuku'..."
He let out a resigned sigh.
"I'm sure that femboy god had something to do with this..."
A can magically appeared in his hand.
Except it didn't say Spinach.
It said... CANNED CAULIFLOWER
Emilia couldn't hold back her laughter.
"Pffff! HAHAHAHA! What the hell is that supposed to be!?"
Up in the stands, Aoi stood up.
"No."
She turned around.
"I'm not watching this."
But Cecilia grabbed her by the arm before she could escape.
"Have faith in Master."
Akira proudly raised the can.
"My trump card."
He crushed it open with one hand and started devouring the contents without chewing.
One...
Two...
Three spoonfuls.
When he finished...
His right arm began to swell to an absurd size.
His muscles grew until they looked completely ridiculous.
His veins bulged.
And an elaborate tattoo of the heavy cruiser Takao appeared on his bicep.
Akira rested his gigantic arm on the table.
The two grabbed each other's hands with confident smiles.
"Let the match begin."
The entire coliseum fell silent.
The two competitors stared each other down as they waited for the announcer's signal.