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Holden's boots scraped against stone as he closed the final distance to Nami. Russell had deliberately held Luffy back from using Gear Third, dangling the perfect bait. In the original stories, Luffy would've already unleashed hell by now.
Nami wasn't helpless—she swung her Clima-Tact in a desperate arc, trying to create some breathing room. But when Holden's ring-handled broadsword came down with a sound like tearing thunder, her defense crumbled like paper.
Steel met steel for a heartbeat. Then Nami's form flickered and dissolved into motes of light.
"NAMI!"
Luffy's voice exploded from behind Holden, raw with fury and pain. But the martial artist barely registered it, too focused on his apparent victory. Finally. That should've broken their bond completely. He began turning toward where Yoriichi still battled his tiger demon, ready to finish this fight properly.
Then he caught sight of Russell's face on the sidelines.
That bastard was smiling. Not the frustrated grimace of someone whose strategy had just been dismantled, but the cold, satisfied expression of a chess player who'd just sprung his trap.
What the hell does that look mean? Doubt crept into Holden's mind like ice water in his veins.
Before he could analyze further, a bone-deep roar erupted directly behind him.
High in the university representatives' section, the professors had the perfect view of the unfolding disaster.
"Ah, kid's still got a lot to learn," the Imperial University rep sighed, shaking his head as he watched Holden's frozen form.
The representative from Daming Mining & Technical College adjusted his glasses. "Can't really blame him. Russell's bond type has never been documented before. How could Holden know what he was walking into?"
"True enough," Imperial's man conceded, though his thoughts were less charitable. A more experienced cardmaker would've tested the waters first, sent expendable summons to probe for hidden effects. But Holden only has that tiger demon—he had to fight personally.
Mr. Stern from Northgate University remained silent, but his eyes gleamed with satisfaction. The school board already approved our maximum salary offer. After this performance, we might need to double it. The specifics could wait until after the tournament, when he could corner Russell for a private conversation.
Down on the battlefield, Holden heard the sound of rushing air behind him and spun around.
What he saw made his blood freeze.
Countless crimson fist-shadows filled his vision, each one crackling with murderous intent and supernatural speed. Luffy's entire body had shifted into a terrifying red blur, steam rising from his skin like a demon emerging from hell itself.
"GUM-GUM... JET GATLING!"
"What the—" Holden barely managed to cross his arms before the storm hit him.
BOOM!
The impact was like being struck by a freight train made of pure rage. Holden's body flew backward, smashing through chunks of battlefield stone as if they were made of cardboard. An entire corner of the arena collapsed into rubble and dust.
"Cough..." A weak sound emerged from the settling debris. Somehow, impossibly, Holden was still conscious. Damn it... I've been played. His body felt like it was made of broken glass, but his mind was finally catching up. The bond didn't break when Nami died—it activated.
But I can still fight!
Unfortunately, Luffy had other plans.
"GUM-GUM JET BAZOOKA!"
The rubber pirate shot through the smoke like a crimson comet, both fists cocked back and ready to cave in Holden's skull. The crowd held its collective breath as death itself seemed to hurtle toward the fallen martial artist.
Then the referee materialized between them, catching Luffy's devastating attack with practiced ease.
"Semi-finals—Russell wins!"
Chaos erupted in the stands. "What? The fight's not over!" Students shouted in confusion, craning their necks to see through the dissipating smoke.
But as the dust settled, the referee's decision became crystal clear.
Holden was still standing—barely. His prop cards lay in glittering fragments around him, and his body was a canvas of deep cuts and purpling bruises. Only pure stubbornness kept him upright. If that final attack had connected, they'd have been scraping him off the arena floor with a spatula.
Russell watched from the sidelines with mixed feelings. He'd expected to win, but not this easily. He'd been prepared for Luffy to need Gear Third, maybe even struggle a bit. Note to self: never engage in close combat without being absolutely certain of the situation.
Medical staff swarmed onto the field, loading Holden onto a stretcher with practiced efficiency. As they carried him past Russell, the defeated martial artist managed to lift his head, eyes burning with frustrated fury, before unconsciousness claimed him.
Russell felt a brief pang of sympathy, but quickly pushed it aside. He had more important things to think about—like how dramatically Luffy's power had spiked after Nami's defeat. The bond effect had boosted his strength by roughly thirty percent, pushing those final attacks to the upper limits of Bronze tier. Nearly equivalent to Yoriichi's Shikai.
The bond effect really is something else. Russell couldn't help but think of Cole Kong, who'd been so unlucky that day. The poor bastard never got to show off his own bond before being hard-countered and eliminated instantly.
Not that Holden was weak—far from it. He just hadn't expected Luffy to suddenly explode with berserker fury after Nami's apparent defeat. Caught completely off-guard, he'd walked straight into a meat grinder. In a normal fight, he might not have been able to beat the enraged Luffy, but he definitely could've put up a real battle.
With a satisfied nod, Russell recalled his cards.
Up in the VIP section, champagne corks were already popping.
"Well, that settles it," Aurora University's representative said with a broad grin. "Russell's got first place locked up. The other two contestants couldn't beat Holden on his worst day, let alone Russell."
Nods of agreement rippled through the group. They'd all seen the remaining semi-finalists—neither posed any real threat.
"His bond trigger is fascinating though," Sioux City University's rep mused. "Death-activated effects are incredibly rare among cardmakers. No wonder Holden walked into it blind."
The Heron Island representative frowned slightly. "The power boost seems a bit excessive though, doesn't it?"
"Did you miss the part where his card completely lost its mind?" Mr. Stern finally spoke up, his voice carrying the weight of experience. "Look at that pirate's eyes—pure berserker rage. No strategy, no self-preservation."
The group fell silent as the implications sank in. In controlled duels like this tournament, temporary insanity might be manageable. But in the wild, where cardmakers faced real danger? A berserk card that abandoned its protective duties to go on a killing spree was a death sentence waiting to happen.
Still, most of them would gladly accept such a trade-off. Other cards could cover defense—raw power like that was irreplaceable.
The silence stretched as each representative began mentally calculating their recruitment offers. Russell had just become the most valuable prize in the entire province, and the bidding war was about to begin.
(End of this chapter)