Part- 365:
Ryan gave a small shrug, brushing off the attention. “They’ll get bored eventually, and they are also mentioning you see…” he muttered, though the amused glint in his eyes suggested he didn’t mind it all that much.
Nabi smirked from her spot on the bench. “Don’t pretend you’re not enjoying it,” she teased. “Admit it—you love the attention.”
Ryan shook his head, a rare, genuine smile breaking through his usually stoic demeanor. “I just care about winning,” he replied, though everyone khat wasirely true.
As the scoreboard updated to **2-3**, the energy on Banani’s side of the gym shifted. There was renewed hope in the air—**Ryan’s victory had turhe tide**, and now the rest of the team felt the momentum on their side.
James leaned forward, his eyes sing the mat. "We’ve got a real shot at this," he muttered, half to himself. "One more win, and we’re ba."
Ryan stretched his arms, staying loose and ready. "Let’s finish this," he said, more to himself than anyone else.
The match wasn’t over yet—but with Ryan’s win, **Banani High had taken the first step toward redemption**. All that remained was to see if the fighters could carry the momentum forward.
With the score now at **2-3**, the atmosphere in the gym crackled with anticipation. All eyes were on **James**, the st hope for Banani High. His oppo, **Abu Jel**, was a familiar faown as the ued captain of Mohammadpur High and a longtime rival of Ryan. The air around Jel was thick with an uling aura, a testament to his reputation as one of the stro petitors iour.
As James stepped onto the mat, he could feel the weight of the moment pressing down on him. **Jel rolled his shoulders**, a calcuted move that highlighted his fidend physical prowess. He met James' gaze, his eyes glinting with alice.
“I’ll enjoy breaking you,” Jel sneered, a taunting smile pying at the ers of his lips. “It’s going to be a pleasure to watch you fail miserably. You’re not ready for someone like me.”
James simply smiled back, the ers of his mouth curving slightly as he narrowed his eyes in amusement. “I’ll make sure you remember this match for a long time.” His voice was steady, ced with a calm fidehat belied the tension in the air.
The referee blew the whistle, signaling the start of the match. In that moment, James activated his **Crisis Mode**, a teique he had mastered over tless training sessions. Everything around him faded into the background as his system took trol—**his body moved on autopilot**, perfectly synized with the rhythm of his oppo’s movements.
Jel charged forward, attempting to overpower James with a lightning-quick grip. The crowd roared, their excitement palpable as they anticipated the csh of these two titans. Many believed that Jel would easily overpower James, given his reputation as the tour's stro petitor.
“Look at Jel; he’s going to crush him!” a spectator excimed, his voice thick with expectation. “I ’t believe James even dared to challenge him!” another chimed in, a hint of dession ione.
From the sidelines, **Jame’s new fan girls**, including Toya and Mili, watched with wide eyes.
“James has got this,” Mili said, her voice wavering with a mix of hope and ay. “He’s been training hard; he ’t let us down now.”
