The announcement shattered the remaining silence.
The Norse brothers leaped to their feet in the VIP section, cheering at the top of their lungs.
"THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT!"
"Nemesis! Nemesis!"
Their excitement had little to do with the spectacle alone. Their bets had paid off handsomely, and none of them had any intention of pretending otherwise.
Ares, however, barely acknowledged the victory celebration. His eyes remained fixed on Nemesis, relief washing through him now that the fight was over and he was still standing and unscathed.
Across the arena, Anton Trillo wore a far less triumphant expression. He had lost a considerable sum betting on Rocky, though his decision to hedge his bet on Nemesis had allowed him to recover part of the loss.
It was a bitter consolation.
"Damn it. How could he lose?"
Artemio Fuegerro, meanwhile, sat frozen in disbelief.
How could Rocky lose to that slender man?
