Parallel Memory

The match had started. The crowd buzzed with anticipation, but just as the referee raised his hand to signal the beginning, Misha turned around, her calm expression breaking into a smirk as she looked at Hiro.

"Mind if I end this quickly?" she asked casually, her voice low enough for only him to hear.

Hiro blinked, surprised for a moment, but nodded with a grin, giving her a silent gesture of approval. He knew better than to doubt her.

Then Misha turned to face Vance, her voice loud and sharp now. "You’re not even a man, are you?" she mocked. "Using your guards to bully a little girl. Pathetic."

Her words echoed across the stage like a whip crack.

The audience erupted into laughter. Several soldiers and spectators whistled and jeered at Vance.

"Did she just say that?"

"She really went there."

"Damn, this is gonna be good."

Vance’s face flushed with frustration. His jaw tightened, and the veins on his neck bulged as he snarled. The laughter grated on him more than Misha’s words. He hated being the butt of a joke—especially in public. With a sharp hand gesture, he signaled his guards to back off.

"Tch. I don’t need anyone’s help to handle a brat," he growled. He knew he was a sub-rank higher than her—he had the advantage in cultivation and experience. There was no way he could lose. Not to her.

But still, her words stung.