Chapter 25 : "Unexpected Victory"

Chapter 25

"The Big Mac has already defeated twenty-nine opponents. Will he complete his 30-game winning streak?" The host's voice boomed, "Who will be the next challenger to end his reign?"

"Introducing our next contender, Deathmask!" (AN: Hey guys, couldn't think of any name, please recommend one for me)

Accompanied by uplifting music, Deathmask made a dramatic entrance, eliciting a burst of enthusiastic cheers from the crowd.

Sending a slender, seemingly frail man into the ring at this point raised doubts about whether he was there to hand Big Mac an easy victory.

As expected, the event organizers seized upon the opportunity to extend Big Mac's winning streak to thirty matches, aiming to bolster the wrestling gym's reputation and please the audience.

The sight of a few individuals who had just bet their underpants catching wind of this possibility sparked renewed excitement.

Following James's entrance, the iron cage surrounding the ring descended, sealing the combatants inside.

"Will Deathmask last three minutes? How will Big Mac demonstrate his dominance over this new opponent? Audience, the moment of truth is upon us!"

In the betting area, spectators clamored excitedly. "All in on Big Mac!"

"That kid looks like a pushover. He won't last three minutes. I'm betting on Big Mac to win."

"Big Mac's gotta secure that thirtieth victory!"

Confidence in Big Mac's triumph was high, causing the odds to plummet, ultimately settling at 1:0, with $100 wagered yielding $0 in winnings.

Conversely, James's odds skyrocketed to 20:1, with little attention paid to his potential victory.

"I'm betting on Deathmask!" Peter confidently swept all the money from the table, earning himself skeptical glances.

Nonchalantly, Peter placed the sacred suitcase on the ground, indifferent to the onlookers' scrutiny.

As the bets were finalized, the host stoked the anticipation, and with the tolling of the bell, the match commenced.

"Kid, let's make this interesting. Don't worry, I'll go easy on you," Big Mac, towering nearly six and a half feet tall with bulging muscles, grinned menacingly.

Laughter more terrifying than tears.

James shrugged. "Thanks, but I'm in a hurry."

Before he could finish his sentence, a swift blur of motion from Big Mac obscured James's vision, and then everything went dark.

Puff! Less than five seconds into the match, Big Mac, seemingly poised for victory, crumpled to the ground.

K!

With James's unarmed strength exceeding 400 kilograms and his uncanny speed, Big Mac didn't stand a chance.

Many spectators found themselves abruptly silenced before they could utter a word.

The host, accustomed to grand spectacles, reacted swiftly, raising James's hand triumphantly. "The winner is... Deathmask!"

Offstage, Peter eagerly awaited the outcome of his bet, grinning as James effortlessly dispatched his opponent.

With $1500 wagered and odds of 20:1, Peter stood to win $30,000—a significant windfall. Now, he could afford the materials to craft Spider-Man and Sentinel's suits.

Tapping the table, Parker beamed. "Pay up, winner!"

---

At Osborne Group headquarters, Gwen sat at her desk in a daze.

Her mentor, Dr. Connors, approached, his right hand disabled. "What are you working on?"

Gwen hastily stood, "Oh, nothing."

Dr. Connors peered over her shoulder, his expression shifting to surprise upon seeing the formula she had penned.

"This formula... Did you devise it?"

Grasping Gwen's shoulder with his remaining hand, Dr. Connors's face lit up with surprise and delight.

"Sir, you're hurting me," Gwen winced, pulling away and taking a step back, flustered.

"Apologies, Gwen. I didn't expect this formula. It seems promising, but we'll need to verify its accuracy."

The formula had landed on Gwen's desk in a crumpled ball, a gift from Parker during class.

Yet she remained unaware of its origin or benefactor. Nevertheless, it promised to revolutionize their experiments.

"This could be a breakthrough. If you're willing, I'd like your assistance."

Gwen smiled. She couldn't shake the feeling that there was something unusual about the formula's appearance on her desk.

Meanwhile, in the wrestling gym, James and Parker counted their earnings.

The bookie had profited handsomely from bets placed on Big Mac, so while parting with $30,000 to Parker was significant, it was a small price to pay. Naturally, the bookie didn't contest their winnings in front of the crowd.

Handing over the cash, James instructed, "This money will fund future endeavors for our organization."

Thus, the Guardians of the Zodiac took root.

In the world of comics, Spider-Man had long been synonymous with the struggling hero relying on mutation for fame. But with James at the helm, Peter needn't suffer the same fate.

As for James's own livelihood, he wasn't worried. He still had the $1000 reward waiting for him.

On the second floor, James and Peter entered the wrestling gym office. Behind the desk, a middle-aged man counted money haphazardly.

As the duo entered, the man tossed a hundred-dollar bill onto the table. "Here's your reward. Now get out."

"Hey, that's not what your ad said," Peter protested, only for James to restrain him.

Snatching a stack of cash from the table, James counted out thirty bills before tossing the rest back.

"These are my rightful earnings, as per the agreement."

The middle-aged man slammed his palm on the table. "Are you looking for trouble on my turf?"

Just then, the office door burst open, and a yellow-haired man strode in, tossing a bag onto the table. "Put all the money in the bag."

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