As A Mafia Boss, I Refuse To Be An Extra

Chapter 239: Pretty Boy



Chapter 239: Pretty Boy

[All Arenas – Matches Resume]

The tournament continued despite the shocking opening.

Imperial Academy had already won.

Skyreach Academy ground down their enemies through superior tactics and coordination, Alexander Vance’s brown shields appearing and disappearing to block attacks from impossible angles.

Darksky Academy brought overwhelming offensive pressure, Jonathan Thorne’s golden Aura blazing like a miniature sun, his attacks burning through defensive barriers like they were made of paper.

Republic Academy fought with heart and determination that made up for their technical disadvantages, William and his team proving that commoners could compete even if they couldn’t dominate.

The hosts provided continuous commentary, their voices rising and falling with the action.

“ANOTHER ELIMINATION! EASTWIND ACADEMY FALLS TO CRIMSON PEAK!”

“REPUBLIC ACADEMY ADVANCES! THE COMMONER REPRESENTATIVES REFUSE TO BACK DOWN!”

Match after match, victory after victory, elimination after elimination.

The stadium crowd roared approval for displays of skill, gasped at close calls and cheered for underdogs who fought harder than anyone expected.

By the time the sun began setting, painting the stadium in orange and gold light, the first round was complete.

Noah’s voice boomed across the exhausted crowd.

“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! The First Round of the World Championship Tournament is complete!”

Sarah’s voice joined his, equally dramatic.

“FIFTY TEAMS HAVE BEEN ELIMINATED! FIFTY TEAMS ADVANCE TO ROUND TWO!”

Holographic displays showed the bracket, the remaining teams, the matchups for tomorrow.

“Get some rest, everyone! Tomorrow the real competition begins! Round two starts at dawn!”

****

[Stormhold Preparation Room – Evening]

The team had gathered in their assigned room, the energy completely different from the pre-match tension.

Edrin sat reviewing tactical notes, his analytical mind already planning for potential opponents.

Ronan was sprawled across a couch, exhausted but satisfied, his massive frame taking up most of the furniture.

Lysa cleaned her bow with careful precision.

Ariana stood by the window, lost in her own thoughts.

And Zavier sat alone in a corner, his spear resting against the wall beside him, his blood-stained hands finally cleaned but his eyes still distant.

Seraphina entered the room with Elizabeth and Adrian, her violet eyes immediately finding Zavier, concern evident in her expression.

The S+ rank awakener approached him carefully, her voice gentle despite her military bearing.

“Zavier… Do you need help? What happened out there at the end of the match, losing control like that, it needs to be addressed before it becomes a bigger problem.”

Everyone in the room turned to look at him, their expressions mixing worry and understanding.

They all knew what he’d been through, including the nobles who had found out through their channels.

Zavier was silent for several long seconds, his eyes still distant, processing the question.

Then his face shifted, that same smile returning, though softer now and less manic.

“Don’t worry, Professor. I have my Boss with me.”

His eyes found Damian across the room.

“If I ever need help, if things get too dark, I’ll come to him. He understands.”

Pat Pat

Damian walked over and patted Zavier’s back, the gesture simple but carrying weight.

“You did good today. Don’t stress so much.”

Ronan jumped in, his naturally boisterous personality trying to lighten the mood.

“Besides, we can’t let you hog all the fun! Next match, I want to make someone regret for looking down on us!”

Edrin adjusted his glasses with a slight smile.

“Just try not to traumatize the entire stadium next time. The hosts spent ten minutes discussing your ’concerning psychological state’ on live broadcast.”

Lysa added quietly.

“Though… It was effective. I could sense the fear from other teams when they looked at you afterward. Just like Boss says, sometimes reputation is as valuable as actual strength.”

Zavier’s smile became more genuine, surrounded by people who understood him and didn’t judge.

He turned back to Seraphina.

“Thank you, Professor. Even though you’re part of the Noble system, you’ve never shown any partiality toward us. You even helped all of us choose the best weapon arts suited for our fighting styles and taught us about principles.”

His voice carried genuine gratitude.

“That meant more than you probably realize. Having someone with your experience and power actually invest time in helping commoners like us improve – it gives us hope that not all Nobles are the same.”

Indeed. The one who helped find the suitable arts for everyone… was Seraphina. She did everything without being asked.

Seraphina’s face flushed slightly, embarrassment breaking through her usual military composure.

She wasn’t used to being appreciated for doing what she considered a mission given by the Federation.

“I just… you all have so much potential. It would have been wasteful not to help you develop it properly.”

She turned and left quickly before anyone could see how much the gratitude had affected her, her violet eyes showing moisture she refused to acknowledge.

Everyone liked being appreciated once in a while, even strong beings like Seraphina.

Adrian watched the interaction with complex emotions, seeing the bond between Damian’s team that he wasn’t part of, understanding that they’d been through things together he couldn’t relate to.

Elizabeth stood beside her brother, her purple eyes thoughtful as she observed the Mafia’s dynamics.

These weren’t just classmates anymore.

They were… family.

****

[ACC Federation Stadium – Day Two – Morning]

The dawn light painted the stadium in shades of gold and pink, fifty thousand spectators filling the seats despite the early hour, their energy somehow even more intense than the previous day.

The hosts stood on their elevated platforms, their voices booming with practiced enthusiasm.

“WELCOME BACK, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! WELCOME TO DAY TWO OF THE WORLD CHAMPIONSHIP TOURNAMENT!”

ROAR!

The crowd’s roar was deafening, a physical wave of sound that made the air vibrate.

“Yesterday we saw incredible performances! Today we’ll see even more as the fifty remaining teams fight for advancement!”

Sarah’s voice joined Noah’s, building the anticipation.

“But first, a special announcement! Will all fifty teams please come to the center of the stadium!”

****

[Stormhold Preparation Room]

After hearing the announcement…

Damian looked at Ariana, his crimson eyes seeing what others might have missed – the slight tremor in her hands, the fatigue in her posture and the way she held herself like someone running on pure willpower.

“Ariana… Rest this round. You’re exhausted.”

Ariana opened her mouth to protest, her eyes showing she wanted to argue, wanted to insist she was fine.

But Damian’s expression stopped her.

“Although I don’t know much about Spatial manipulation, I do know that it isn’t like other abilities. You probably need to understand the principles deeply, maintain perfect focus, and calculate distances and trajectories constantly. Mental exhaustion from that is as dangerous as physical injury.”

He spoke quietly enough that only she could hear.

“So rest now and let your mind recover.”

Ariana looked at him silently for several long seconds, then nodded, accepting his judgment without further argument.

’Sigh… I tried to hide my condition, but he saw through it.’

Adrian jumped up from his seat, his face showing excitement.

“So it’s my turn now?! Finally! I’ve been waiting for– ”

Damian brushed past him without acknowledging the question, walking toward the door with Edrin, Zavier, Ronan, and Lysa following.

Ronan even looked back at him with a mocking grin.

“Not today, pretty boy.”

“…”

Adrian stood there speechless, his mouth hanging open, his beautiful face showing genuine offense.

“You’re clearly just jealous of all the attention I get from the crowd! That’s what this is about! You can’t handle my popularity!”

Elizabeth twisted his ear again – the gesture becoming almost ritualistic at this point.

“OW! NOT AGAIN! MY EAR IS GOING TO FALL OFF!”

“Then maybe you’ll learn to read the situation properly.”


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