James and Mr Otomi entered the grand hall designated for the press conference. It was a cavernous space filled with the hum of expectant reporters and the glare of countless camera flashes.

As they advanced towards the stage, the reporters unleashed a flurry of shouts, waving their microphones and jostling for position. The flashing camera lights transformed the room into a dazzling spectacle.

With Mr Otomi's guidance, they found their seats, and the atmosphere hushed in anticipation. The moderator, a poised figure amid the tumult, raised a hand to restore order, and the room fell into a heavy silence.

"Very well," the moderator's voice cut through the air like a clarion call. "We will entertain just three questions. Each of our fighters will provide their responses in turn. Afterwards, we'll conclude with an electrifying face-off between them."

The anticipation in the room was palpable, and the reporters poised with their inquiries.

Press Conference

Questioner 1 (Q1): "James, Paul Jones is widely considered one of the best Booster Fighters of our time. How do you plan to counter his exceptional skills in the upcoming match?"

James acknowledged Paul's extraordinary skills with a respectful nod. "Paul Jones is an incredible fighter, and I deeply respect his achievements. To counter him, I've been working tirelessly to improve my own techniques. My strategy is to focus on my own strengths and be as precise as I can. In the arena, it's not about taking down opponents; it's about pushing your own limits. I see this match as a tremendous opportunity to showcase my abilities and grow as a fighter."

Paul leaned forward with a smug grin. "James, I've heard that practice makes perfect, but I'm afraid no amount of practice can bridge the gap between us. When you're up against a seasoned champion like me, you're basically just sparring. It's a cute attempt, really."

Questioner 2 (Q2): "Paul, James is known for his passion and dedication to the sport. How do you plan to counter his relentless determination?"

Paul chuckled condescendingly. "Determination is an admirable quality, but it won't win you a match against someone of my calibre. Passion won't block a precise strike or deliver a knockout blow. In the arena, it's not about who wants it more; it's about who executes better."

James remained unfazed, his voice steady. "I respect Paul's accomplishments, but I believe that determination and passion can be formidable forces. Every day, I dedicate myself to becoming the best fighter I can be. In the end, it's about the love of the sport, and I'm ready to give my all."

Questioner 3 (Q3): "James, you've been through a lot to get here. Can you tell us how your background has shaped your approach to Booster Fighting?"

James took a deep breath. "I come from a place where determination and perseverance aren't just words. They're a way of life. Booster Fighting is about breaking barriers and proving that anyone can make it, no matter their background. I've faced adversity, but I've turned it into motivation to prove that where you come from doesn't define where you can go."

Paul leaned in with a smirk. "Ah, the classic 'from rags to riches' narrative. It's a touching story, really. But in the arena, it's not about where you've been; it's about where you're going. It doesn't matter if you've faced adversity; it matters how you deal with it when the pressure is on."

The press conference continued, with questions and arguments flying back and forth. The battle of words was just a prelude to the impending showdown in the arena, where James and Paul would face each other with more than just their words on the line.

Leaving the grand hall, James was still grappling with the cryptic words of the cloaked assailant. The fear and curiosity gnawed at him, demanding answers about the enigmatic figure who had crossed his path. The air outside felt cool, a welcome contrast to the intensity of the press conference. As James and Mr. Otomi strolled through the courtyard, they found a quiet spot to discuss the unsettling incident.

"Mr. Otomi," James began, his voice edged with concern, "I can't get that man out of my head. The one who attacked me in the alley seemed to know something about the fight. What should we do? I don't want to jeopardize everything we've worked for."

Mr Otomi looked pensive, his brow furrowing as he weighed the situation. "James, it's a complex matter. We need to be cautious, but also curious. What did he mean by 'throw the fight'? I have a few contacts within the Booster Fighting community; I'll discreetly inquire about this cloaked figure."

Just as they were delving deeper into their discussion, James's keen eyes caught a shadowy figure lurking in a nearby alleyway, the cloak obscuring their features. His heart leapt in his chest. "Mr. Otomi! Over there, that's him!" James exclaimed, his hand shooting out to point in the direction of the mysterious figure.

Without hesitation, Mr. Otomi replied, "Wait at the apartment, James. I'll see what I can find out." He swiftly retrieved his NuroLink, activating his Booster Boots. In a flash, he was off, using the Boosters to traverse the distance. James knew Mr. Otomi was more than capable of handling himself, but worry still gnawed at him. With his mentor on the case, he turned on his heel and headed back to the old man's apartment, a mix of anxiety and anticipation weighing on his shoulders.

James waited with bated breath at the apartment, his mind spinning with a torrent of concerns. Each passing second felt like an eternity as he counted down the hours, his anxiety simmering beneath the surface. Then, in the quietude of the night, a sudden knock shattered the stillness. James practically leapt from the sofa, his heart pounding, and approached the door cautiously. He peered through the peephole, relief washing over him as he recognized his mentor's figure.

Swiftly, James swung the door open, his concern etched across his face. "Mr. Otomi, are you alright? What happened?" he asked, his voice trembling with worry.

Mr Otomi entered, his breath laboured as he moved past James into the dimly lit living room. James followed closely, his concern deepening. "Mr. Otomi, are you okay?" he inquired, his gaze fixed on his mentor, who seemed distressed.

In response, Mr Otomi made his way to the landline, his fingers quickly dialling a number. James strained to hear the voice on the other end of the line but couldn't discern the words. "Hello?" Mr. Otomi spoke into the receiver, his voice tense. The voice on the other end responded, but James remained in the dark about the details of the conversation.

"This is Mr. Otomi," he continued, his tone urgent. "I need to report foul play from the Paul Jones camp in regards to the finals of the BFWC." With those words, Mr Otomi retreated into his room to continue the call, leaving James in the living room, a swirl of anxiety and uncertainty enveloping him.

An hour later, Mr. Otomi emerged from his room, his expression a mix of exhaustion and frustration. He found James still perched on the sofa, his face etched with concern.

James didn't waste a moment. "What happened, Mr. Otomi?" he inquired, his voice tinged with worry.

Mr Otomi let out a deep sigh, making his way to an adjacent chair and sinking into it heavily. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and rubbed his temples as if to massage away the stress that had built up during the phone call.

"It seems," he began, his voice heavy with the weight of the information he was about to share, "there's a web of deceit and manipulation surrounding this upcoming fight, James. The Paul Jones camp, they've been up to some shady dealings. They have vehemently denied having any involvement with this cloaked man, but I know that he is working with them. We fought before he got away and I recognise that face."

James felt a surge of anger mixed with anxiety. The situation had taken a dark turn, one he hadn't anticipated. "What do they want, Mr. Otomi?"

Mr. Otomi's eyes met James's, their usual warmth now clouded with a heavy burden. "They want you to throw the fight, James. They think you're an easy fight to rig because everyone already expects Paul to win. They want to ensure that Paul wins at any cost."

A tense silence hung in the room as James absorbed the gravity of the situation. The fight was no longer just about proving himself; it had become a twisted game of manipulation and control.

"They won't get away with this," James vowed, his voice steely with determination, his eyes ablaze with unwavering resolve. "I won't let their threats deter me, and I refuse to throw the fight."

Mr. Otomi's approving nod held an air of caution. "That's the spirit, James. But remember, they possess considerable influence and are ready to take drastic measures to secure their win. We'll need a meticulous plan and a meticulous execution."

"I will dismantle Paul Jones in the finals!" James declared, his voice resonating with unshakable conviction. "Let's reveal who Paul Jones truly is."

A knowing smile crept across Mr. Otomi's face, pride emanating from his very being. "If we pursue this path, Jamie-boy, we must be acutely aware of the consequences that may follow the fight."

With a determined nod, James and Mr Otomi embarked on the journey of devising their strategy, resolved to shift the power dynamic and expose those attempting to manipulate the impending clash. Their battleground extended beyond the arena, reaching into the realm of reputation and integrity.

The night of the long-anticipated finals had finally arrived, and the atmosphere in the arena was palpable. The enthusiastic crowd, a mix of fervent supporters and fervid sceptics from the nearby slums, filled every nook and cranny of the grand stadium. For James, the coveted prize money was tantalizingly close, capable of turning his most cherished dreams into reality.

In a quiet moment before the battle began, James and Mr. Otomi shared a few words. Mr Otomi's voice was a mix of encouragement and wisdom, a final exchange of invaluable insights and belief in James's abilities. "Remember, James, your journey has led you here. Stay focused, stay determined, and don't let fear or intimidation cloud your path to victory."

James nodded resolutely, his eyes reflecting the unwavering commitment he held. He could hear the distant roar of the crowd, a tumultuous ocean of sounds, as he made his way towards the ring. The arena's atmosphere was unlike anything he had ever experienced before, a breathtaking fusion of cheers and boos, all of it a testament to the hopes and doubts of the audience.