The blaring sound of the microphone echoed through the covered gymnasium. Students filled the seats, waving banners, cheering for their classes. The smell of sweat, food, and excitement lingered in the air as the announcer's voice boomed:
"Welcome to this year's intramurals! Let the games… begin!"
Confetti shot into the air, the school band played loudly, and the crowd roared. For many, this was more than just fun—it was pride, reputation, and the chance to prove themselves.
---
The first sport to take the spotlight was chess. Rows of tables were lined up near the stage, each match projected on the big screen for the audience.
All eyes turned to Reina Salvador. Calm, composed, her sharp eyes scanned the board with precision. Her opponent, sweating nervously, barely had time to think before Reina made move after move—fast, sharp, merciless.
Ten minutes later, the opponent tipped over his king in surrender. The crowd cheered.
"As expected of Reina Salvador! Still undefeated!"
Students whispered from the stands.
"She's a monster on the board…"
"No one can take first place from her."
Reina stood gracefully, not even smiling. Victory for her was routine.
---
Meanwhile, on the other side of the gym, a different kind of tension brewed.
The arm wrestling preliminaries had begun.
Two muscular students slammed their hands together on the wooden table, faces red with effort, but the winner was obvious.
Marcus Perez leaned forward, his thick arm unmoving as his opponent's struggled in vain. With a grunt, Marcus slammed the other boy's hand to the table—hard enough to rattle it.
The crowd exploded in cheers. His gym buddies chanted his name:
"Marcus! Marcus! Marcus!"
He smirked, raising his fist in victory, his confidence unshaken.
---
Then came David Ahn's turn. Wearing his clean sports uniform, his body bulked from weeks of luxury training, he looked more like a professional athlete than a high schooler. His opponent barely lasted three seconds before David slammed his hand down with a smile, glancing at Reina in the stands.
"Too easy," David muttered, flexing his wrist, making sure the crowd—and Reina—saw.
His lackeys clapped, hyping him up.
"That's our boy David! No one's gonna stop him!"
---
Jed sat quietly in the waiting area. He hadn't been called yet, but his eyes never left the matches. He studied Marcus's technique. He watched David's confidence. He analyzed every grip, every movement, every weakness.
While the others sought cheers and glory, Jed was different.
For him, this wasn't about popularity or pride.
This was survival.
---
The announcer's voice rose again:
"And now, the next arm wrestling match—Jed Cruz, Class 2-C, versus…!"
The crowd erupted into laughter and whispers the moment they saw him step forward.
"That guy? He looks so normal…"
"He's dead meat against any of these guys."
Jed walked slowly to the table, calm and silent, while his opponent cracked his knuckles and smirked.
The first match of Jed's intramurals was about to begin.