"Well, I must say, this position is a hard one. You got me good." The detective reached into his pocket.
"Tell me how you're going to get out of this one now."
The soldier had a smug smile on his face that went from lip to lip. Clemmons had an idea and knew this was going to be a tricky one. But he had one little think right up his sleeve that very well might have worked.
"I was told you were a fighter of some kind." The plan was a failsafe that he had come up with in the worst possible scenario. Despite being the best detective of history, he was well off to the plan but had to see if the games would allow it. From the fact that the judge had been biased towards Ron. If he was biased then that meant that the games could be rigged.
"I was the greatest soldier who'd ever live."
He's proud of himself. That means that he's probably also good at it.
"Now isn't that neat? I'm considered one of the smartest men in the world where I'm from."
Clemmons readied himself for what was happening. For most of his lifetime he had never really cared for physical happenings as much as he did for mental affairs. He was a brilliant detective but he was only good when he was the one doing the chasing. That reminded him of when he had gone on the run after having to shoot a man.
"Intelligence can change for better or worse over time."
"You're You're very smug, you know that?"
Clemmons took in a breath of air before his plan would reach the high point. He stood from his oak chair that had been recently restained and placed his hand firmly on what was in his right pocket.
KABOOOM! The revolver let out a bullet heading straight for the soldier's head.
"How could you do something like that and say I'm smug?"
Clemmons had a revolver in his coat pocket in case he'd been on the down and out. Since he'd seen people in the tournament could dodge bullets, that meant that he would either win or claim victory.
"I was just seeing how well off you were."
If he dodged the bullet or tanked it, that meant that he would be victim to the next part of the trap and if the trap didn't work, he would have made his speed or durability apparent to the good.
"Okay, now where were we?" The soldier dodged the bullet perfectly. He had been caught in the trap enough to not go back. "If I remember correctly. I was about to take your king."
As the soldier looked upon the board, there was something different that he couldn't quite put his finger on.
As he looked upon the board, he could see that there were two things that were off.
Did he gain a piece?
As he looked closer at the board, he could feel there was something off besides the fact that his knight was shot off by the bullet that went through the board and went for his head.
"That counts as a move?"
The announcer's voice came in through what could only be thought of as a mixture of an intercom and a horn.
"Clemmons has made his move. Don't be surprised if the rules don't line up."
As he looked down at the board, he could see that he could put down a rook from c8 to c5. Then he could move to h5 and capture a pawn. He would probably not have any choice but. The pressure began to grow before he rose from his seat and after roughly fifteen minutes of playing chess, he had done something that he never did before, he surrendered.
"I quit."
As the villain stood from his chair, he took a salute and accepted his fate. He figured that the detective would do nothing more than just cheat the game even more. In lack of any better words, he was going to lose.
"Thank you."
Clemmons rose from the chair once again. Instead of grasping the gun in his pocket, he simply reached out his left hand to shake the soldiers before walking away from what would happen to the enemy.