Part- 359:

  Abbas, standing off to the side, chuckled softly. "James and Ryan against Jel? Holy, I kind of want to see hoys out—off the mat."

  Coach Gin shot Abbas a sharp look, sileng him instantly. "Focus," the coach growled. "This isn’t a pyground. If you don’t take them seriously, you’ll lose."

  Abbas straightened, all humor vanishing from his expression. "Yes, Coach."

  Coach Gin turned back to the rest of the team. "Listen up. Mohammadpur didn’t get here by luck. They’re good—damn good. But they’re not invincible." His gaze swept over the group, settling on James. "You’ve already proven that ooday."

  James gave a small nod, the weight of responsibility settling on his shoulders.

  Gin tinued, “They’re going to e at you hard, especially Jel. He’ll ayback, and he’ll be more dangerous because of it. Stay sharp, fight smart, and trust your teammates.” His voice softened just slightly. "No one wins this alone. Got it?"

  The team responded in unison. "Got it, Coach!"

  The sound of the referee’s whistle echoed through the gym, signaling that it was almost time to begin. The crowd’s chatter grew louder, the excitement reag a fever pitch. Banani and Mohammadpur’s teams lined up across from each other, fag off like warriors preparing for battle.

  Jel shot o look at James, his eyes narrowing. "You might’ve won this m," he muttered quietly, just loud enough for James to hear. "But that was just a warm-up. Out here, I’m in my element. You won’t be so lucky twice."

  James didn’t blink. He stepped forward, his gaze unwavering, his smile calm but dangerous. "Luck had nothing to do with it, Jel. And it won’t this time, either."

  Jel ched his jaw, his knuckles whitening as he fought to keep his posure. Behind him, Shahed gave him a nudge. "Let’s go. We’ve got a match to win."

  Jel took a deep breath, f the anger down. "Yeah," he muttered, stepping bato line. "Let’s."

  As both teams prepared to bow in, James gnced sideways at Ryan, who gave him a small nod. There was no need for words. They knew what had to be done.

  This wasn’t just a match. It was a statement. And they were ready to make it.

  The gymnasium was buzzing with restless excitement as the first match was called—**Abbas** against **Rocky**, Mohammadpur High’s ued heavyweight juggernaut. The moment the referee annouheir he atmosphere thied. Banani High’s fighters exged tense gnces, knowing how critical this fight would be iing the tone.

  Rocky stepped onto the mat like a titan, his enormous frame casting a long shadow over the arena. His sheer size and bulk were overwhelming, and every step he took seemed to vibrate through the floor. Abbas squared his shoulders, trying to shake off the ay bubbling within. Though Abbas was solidly built, he looked almost ordinary o Rocky, whose muscles seemed carved from stone.

  The referee gestured for both fighters to bow. Abbas bent slightly at the waist, but his eyes never left Rocky’s. The whistle blew, and the match began.

  - **Abbas’ Stats:** 183 - **Rocky’s Stats:** 272

  Rocky wasted no time. With a thunderous grunt, he surged forward like a battering ram, determio overwhelm Abbas with sheer power. Abbas braced himself, his heart pounding, as he stepped into Rocky’s charge, trying to meet force with force.