Once settled in the prep room, James, Sam, and Mr. Otomi directed their attention to the large screen, which displayed a live feed of an ongoing battle in the arena. The screen showcased a fierce showdown between two exceptionally skilled Booster Fighters. One fighter, in particular, stood out for his precision and finesse. Every move was executed with calculated accuracy, revealing his exceptional talent and extensive experience. It was evident that this fighter was a force to be reckoned with, gracefully dominating his opponent.

Mr. Otomi spoke with reverence as they watched the battle unfold. "That's Paul Jones. He's the favourite to win the tournament, renowned for his extraordinary skills and strategic genius. He hasn't been defeated for years."

Sam marvelled, his voice filled with awe. "No wonder he's so famous. Just look at how he manipulates his booster boots with such grace. His control is unmatched." James kept his eyes locked on the screen, studying every aspect of Paul's performance. He couldn't help but be both inspired and daunted. Paul's dominance was undeniable, and the thought of one day facing such a formidable opponent stirred a complex blend of enthusiasm and anxiety within James.

Mr Otomi offered reassurance, placing a comforting hand on James's shoulder. "Remember, James, every fighter has strengths and weaknesses. Paul may be incredibly skilled, but that doesn't make him invincible. Right now, concentrate on your own fights. When the time comes, we'll deal with Paul."

James acknowledged Mr. Otomi's words with a resolute nod. Today's match was a platform for him to unveil his unique style and unwavering determination. As the battle on the screen concluded, with Paul emerging as the victor, James shifted his gaze away from the screen, instead focusing on his own reflection in the mirror. Taking a deep breath, a newfound sense of resolve filled him. "I'm prepared for whatever comes my way," he affirmed.

Sam beamed, giving James a hearty pat on the back. "That's the spirit! We're all here to rally behind you, James. Believe in yourself and reveal your true potential to the world."

With Sam's encouraging words echoing in his mind, the time had arrived for James to make his way to the staging area, where he would prepare for his own match. As he traversed the corridors, his heart thrummed with anticipation and nervous energy. The crescendo of the crowd's roars grew ever louder, fueling his determination. In the staging area, James paused to centre himself. He closed his eyes, mentally revisiting his gruelling training sessions and the countless hours of effort and sweat. His focus sharpened on the upcoming contest. He secured his Booster Boots to his feet, their familiar weight grounding him. Standing up, he was joined by Mr. Otomi, whose presence demanded respect. "James, this is your moment. Have faith in your training, have faith in yourself. Show them your true capabilities. Sam and I will be watching from the stands." With a final nod, Mr Otomi exited the staging area and made his way to the stands.

Finally, the moment had arrived for James to enter the arena. Stepping out of the staging area and into the grand arena, he was greeted by the deafening roar of the crowd. The blinding stadium lights cast a spotlight on the expansive court, and James took a moment to absorb the enormity of the stage before him. This was his opportunity to demonstrate his prowess, to transcend his limitations and make an indelible mark.

As he advanced toward the centre of the arena, the crowd's excitement reached its zenith. James recognized that every eye was on him, and he welcomed the pressure. He had invested too much effort to permit anxiety to get the better of him.

The audience's energy coursed through his veins. The gravity of the moment was palpable, and the anticipation heightened with each fleeting second. As he walked, James couldn't overlook the figure positioned at the opposing end of the court, his adversary. This fighter exuded self-assurance and charisma, commanding attention with his mere presence. The audience's fervour shifted, and their cheers gave way to hushed murmurs of recognition; it was Edmund Ravenswood, a disowned Marquess from the Dutchy of Ravenswood. He had been disowned after falling in love with a common girl, leading to his expulsion from the esteemed Ravenswood royal family.

The referee's signal marked the start of the match, and James activated his Booster Boots, thrusting himself into action. The arena crackled with electrifying energy as he gracefully weaved through the air, putting his agility and speed on full display. His adversary, despite being a skilled opponent, found himself caught off balance by James's lightning-fast movements and relentless onslaught. It was a rare moment for James as he had Edmund on the defensive, showcasing his prowess. Beads of sweat formed on Edmund's forehead as he struggled to keep up with James's unwavering assault. The clash between James and Edmund continued, each parry and counter executed with precision, but none of their strikes made it through. 

The duel reached a deadlock, and James recognized the need to break it. In a swift move, he boosted to the right of his opponent, delivering a side slash towards Edmund. Confidence filled James as he believed his strike was about to connect. However, his victory was abruptly halted when a massive force struck his exposed chest, sending him tumbling. "Point, Edmund Ravenswood!" the referee declared, and the crowd erupted in cheers.

Stunned by the turn of events, James gathered himself. "His speed is incredible. I didn't see that counter coming," he thought. Walking off the pain from the previous strike, he returned to his side of the court. This time, it was Edmund who boosted toward James, slashing with his short sword. James quickly blocked the strike, boosting over Edmund's head and re-engaging in the same standoff as before. Unwilling to let history repeat itself, James decided to break the stalemate by boosting backwards into the court's cage. Edmund wasted no time, rocketing towards James with his sword at the ready. Anticipating this move, James propelled himself off the wall and activated his boost, executing a 180-degree twist to face the back of Edmund. With Edmund locked into his trajectory, James's strike connected, sending him to the ground. "Point! James Cooter!" the referee declared, and the crowd roared in appreciation of James's swift and decisive action.

Edmund rose to his feet, body-checking James before returning to his side of the court. The atmosphere was charged with anticipation as James and Edmund circled one another, their eyes locked in an intense stare-down. Both had displayed their exceptional skills and resilience and now it was a matter of outmaneuvering the other. The victor of this round would progress to the next stage. 

With a calculated boost, James launched himself forward, closing the distance between himself and Edmund. He unleashed a flurry of strikes in a relentless onslaught, aiming to overwhelm his opponent. Edmund deftly parried and dodged, showcasing his defensive prowess. The crowd was on the edge of their seats, completely absorbed in the captivating display of skill and determination.

Time seemed to stretch as James and Edmund engaged in a series of intricate manoeuvres, their swords dancing in a deadly waltz. Their blades locked in a contest of strength, knowing that in a pure display of power, James stood little chance. Swiftly, James disengaged, delivering a powerful kick to Edmund's chest. He activated his boost, propelling Edmund backwards. The crowd gasped in astonishment at the unexpected move. Wasting no time, James sprinted forward, boosting toward Edmund, and delivered a final strike to his midsection. "Point! Your winner, James Cooter!" the referee announced. The audience erupted in applause, their cheers resounding throughout the arena.

James stood at the centre of the court, drenched in sweat and breathless, but a triumphant smile illuminated his face. He had proven himself, not only to the spectators but to himself. The journey had been gruelling, riddled with setbacks and doubts, but at that precise moment, it was all worth it. James was advancing to the second round.

James basked in the applause, his heart swelling with a sense of accomplishment. After exiting the arena, he descended to the preparation room where Mr. Otomi and Sam were waiting for him. Mr. Otomi approached with a look of immense pride in his eyes. "James, that was a remarkable display of skill. I've told you about that kick." James chuckled, "You were absolutely right, Mr. Otomi, and I never thought unarmed attacks were legal in Booster Fighting." Sam nodded enthusiastically, his face radiating excitement. "You did it, James! It's incredible to think where that one walk through the woods has led us."

Gratitude and pride welled up within James. He knew this victory would serve as motivation for the rounds ahead. Mr Otomi suggested, "We're all incredibly proud of you, James, but I'm sure you're tired. Let's get out of here." James nodded appreciatively, the exhaustion creeping into his bones. "Yes, let's head out. I could use some rest and time to process everything."

They navigated through the bustling arena corridors, and as they approached the exit, James noticed a figure standing there. It was Paul Jones, the formidable fighter they'd seen on the screen earlier. Paul regarded James with a mixture of curiosity and respect. He approached them, his presence drawing attention. "James Cooter, I must say, that was an impressive performance out there. You've got skill and potential," Paul commented, his words sincere. James was taken aback by the praise from someone as accomplished as Paul. He extended his hand, offering a firm handshake. "Thank you, Paul. Your words mean a lot, especially coming from you." Paul reciprocated the handshake. "I expect to see you in the final." With a nod, Paul left, disappearing into the crowd.

Emerging from the arena, a cool evening breeze welcomed James, offering a soothing contrast to the heat and intensity he had experienced within. His chest expanded as he inhaled deeply, drawing in the serenity of the moment. It was a respite he deeply needed.

The peaceful ambience rekindled his determination and sense of purpose. "I can't believe how far we've come," James marvelled, the blend of amazement and gratitude evident in his voice. "Next week, it's on to the next round."

With his resolve renewed, he contemplated the journey ahead. "I'll go home now," he declared, "and check if my mum's in so I can share the news with her."

Mr. Otomi offered a reassuring presence, placing a warm hand on James's shoulder. "We'll see you tomorrow for training, James."

Watching as Mr Otomi and Sam went their separate ways, James embraced the upcoming challenges with a heart full of gratitude and a determination that wouldn't waver.

While he walked home, James's mind buzzed with anticipation for the next round of the tournament. He couldn't wait to share the news with his mother and celebrate this momentous milestone together. He hoped, more than anything, that she would finally be home.

As James entered the apartment building, his anticipation grew. He climbed the stairs, taking them two at a time, eager to see his mother and share his triumph with her. However, as he reached their apartment door, he noticed something was amiss. The faint sound of raised voices reached his ears, followed by the unmistakable sound of a slap. Anger flowed over James. Without hesitation, James burst through the door, his eyes widening with a mix of anger and protectiveness. His worst fears were confirmed as he witnessed his mother's boyfriend, Mark, towering over her, his face contorted with rage. 

Tears streamed down his mother's face as she tried to shield herself from further harm. A surge of fury coursed through James's veins, his instincts taking over. In a rage and desperation, he reached for his Katana in his bag. In one swift motion, he charged toward Mark, the only thought on James’s mind was to defend his mother. The element of surprise worked in James's favour as he swung his katana with precision and power, striking Mark with a forceful blow to the neck. The blunt katana landed cleanly as Mark crumpled to the ground, incapacitated and in pain.

Time seemed to stretch as James stood there, his breaths laboured, his katana clutched tightly in trembling hands. The gravity of what he had just done bore down on him, a heavy mix of emotions washing over him. Harming someone had never been his intention, and yet, in that pivotal moment, protecting his mother had become his sole imperative.

His mother crouched in a corner, her wide eyes reflecting both shock and fear. Tearful, James turned to her, his voice quivering with genuine concern. "M-Mum, are you okay?" he asked.

"You're a monster!" His mother's voice pierced the air, screeching with a complex blend of emotions, as tears welled up in her eyes. James felt the weight of her accusation, the raw anguish in her words, and it shook him to his core.

"I didn’t want to do this," James's voice cracked, tears forming in his own eyes. "But I couldn't bear to see you hurt."

"Mark is the best thing that happened to me!" His mother's words cut deep, a bitter revelation that made James falter. "He’s always supported me, unlike you who took everything from me. You're the reason your dad left me."

His grip on the katana slackened, and he dropped to his knees, his heart heavy with remorse. "I’m sorry," he muttered, his voice a broken whisper.

"GET OUT! THIS IS NO LONGER YOUR HOUSE!" His mother's voice was relentless and unforgiving, and the words struck James like a dagger.

"Mum, please, I'm sorry!" James pleaded desperately, his own tears now flowing freely. "I only wanted to make you proud and protect you."

"Leave, before I call the police for you assaulting Mark!" His mother's face was a storm of sorrow and anger.

"Please, Mum, you don’t need to do this," James begged, but his pleas fell on deaf ears.

"1..2.." The countdown resounded in the apartment, and James devastated, made a choice. He retrieved his katana and fled out the door. 

As he left, the faint whisper of his mother's voice lingered, a mixture of sorrow and conviction. "Good boy, James," she muttered to herself. "You shouldn't have to live like this. You’re destined for great things."

Outside, James ran through the corridors of the apartment building, his heart heavy with a whirlwind of emotions. He couldn't comprehend the events of the evening. His actions had been born from love and a deep desire to protect his mother, yet her rejection had left him shattered. Tears clouded his vision as he sought refuge in a nearby park, feeling adrift, his world suddenly without an anchor.