The Almighty Dominance

Chapter 349

Chapter 349

"How... how the hell?" Bill stumbled to his feet, swaying like he'd been hit by a truck.

His eyes were wide, panicked, searching for something that made sense.

His jaw trembled, still stinging from the slap that had thrown him out of the arena like a rag doll.

One hit. Just one.

"This can't be happening... this is impossible!"

Alex didn't flinch.

His voice was steady, almost bored. "You're out there, aren't you? So it is possible."

"No! No! That was no way!" Bill bellowed, veins bulging in his neck.

His face twisted into something between fury and fear. "There's no way you landed that hit! It had to be luck! Just dumb, blind luck!"

With desperate fury, he leaped back into the ring.

"You're dead!" he screamed, throwing himself into a violent, reckless assault.

Every blow was wild, each strike more vicious and desperate than the last.

Yet Alex simply sighed, visibly bored.

One hand slipped lazily into his pocket, the other snapping out with astonishing speed.

His fist slammed brutally into Bill's face with a loud crack.

Alex yawned as if it meant nothing.

Bill reeled backward, clutching at his ruined face.

Blood poured freely from his shattered nose, and his eyes filled with horror and humiliation.

"Why...why is this happening?" His voice trembled, weak and broken.

The stunned crowd gasped in collective disbelief.

Bill, Paris's second-best fighter, a man they'd revered, now stood utterly humiliated.

It looked absurd-like watching a child trying to fight a grown man.

"This can't be happening!" someone shouted.

"How the hell did Alex just wreck Bill?" another voice demanded incredulously.

Faces in the crowd dripped with nervous sweat, shaken by the unexpected

outcome.

Nobody believed their eyes. Alex, a man with no previous record in any fight, had somehow annihilated Bill effortlessly.

Bill stood frozen, fear clutching his heart.

His entire body shook violently, overwhelmed by the realization that he faced someone far beyond his strength.

"Guess we're done here," Alex muttered, turning his back dismissively.

weak was a waste

the

"Bill, you worthless coward!"

dog in the Paris Arena?! You call that a

Every damn sponsorship is pulling out-you're done! Finished! You're a

Bill! Do something! You pathetic piece of garbage-I put money on you! Don't

of his pride, his fame, and

of defeat-everything he'd built, every

he

he lost, his life would

funded him

last frantic, desperate lunge, he tightened his grip on the machete, eyes blazing

a scream soaked in madness and rage, Bill charged forward-no strategy, no fear-just

blade in a wild

moved on

second, he forgot

with raw power, cracking against Bill's skull with a

pain exploded through Bill's

blurred-then vanished as a

neck had snapped. Just like

in the final, fleeting second before the darkness took him, a tidal

his entire life chasing

everything-his time, his peace, even parts of himself to be the

was over. All of it. Erased

he hadn't turned back for that one

match-lost everything-he still

could've retired. Lived quietly. Grown old in

simple life. A good

Quiet. Safe. Happy.

it

Shattered in a heartbeat.

All of it-for nothing.

defy a man leagues above

Bill realized the most painful truth

should have walked

came

Everything went black.

to the floor, neck

moment, shock gripped the

silence erupted into frenzied cheers and wild

spectators screamed in delight, ecstatic

who'd supported Bill moments ago now roared in approval,

shook his head

bitterly, walking

spill Paris blood

boomed suddenly from

a crane Roist—the very same used to bring down famous performers during

of theatrical, as if a superstar

the heavens.

in his thirties,

eyes flashed with a cold fury, piercing and fierce, and his

immense as a

him instantly-Michael

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