Chapter 22: Rising Pressure ()
After a full one and a half days of closed-door training—
Ansh finally stopped.
Silence filled the room.
His breathing was steady.
Controlled.
But his body—
felt completely different.
"…Third Trigram."
He muttered softly.
He slowly clenched his fist.
A faint surge of power flowed through his body.
Sharper.
More refined.
His senses—
clearer.
His movements—
lighter.
Faster.
"…So this is the Third."
A faint smile appeared.
If the old man had seen this—
he would have been shocked.
Reaching the Third Trigram—
in just over two days?
Unheard of.
But Ansh knew why.
This technique—
was made for their bloodline.
Which meant—
for him—
this was only the beginning.
He exhaled slowly.
"I need to move faster…"
Because what was coming—
wouldn't wait.
Knock.
"…Come in."
The door opened.
Rudra stepped inside.
"Young master."
Ansh glanced at him.
"…Time?"
Rudra nodded.
"The match."
A brief pause.
"We need to leave now."
Ansh stood up immediately.
"…The old man?"
"Busy."
Ansh didn't ask further.
"Fine. Let's go."
---
Departure
The journey to the private airfield was silent.
Efficient.
Within minutes—
they boarded a private aircraft.
First class.
Spacious.
Quiet.
But Ansh didn't care.
The moment he sat down—
he leaned back…
…and fell asleep.
The exhaustion finally caught up.
Two days of intense training.
Minimal rest.
Even his body—
needed recovery.
Rudra didn't disturb him.
He simply sat there.
Silent.
Watching.
---
Arrival — Virex State
Four hours later—
the aircraft landed.
Rudra stepped closer.
"…Young master."
Ansh opened his eyes slowly.
"…We're here?"
"Yes."
They stepped out.
The destination—
Virex State.
A place known for power.
Influence.
And attention.
The moment they exited—
a car was already waiting.
They entered.
As the car moved—
Rudra began his report.
"Operation completed."
Ansh didn't open his eyes.
"…Details."
"All primary and secondary targets eliminated."
"No traces left."
A pause.
"The name has spread."
Ansh smirked faintly.
"…Eclipse Veil."
"Yes."
Another pause.
"Velkris Syndicate has started investigating."
Ansh chuckled softly.
"Let them investigate."
He opened his eyes.
"They won't find anything."
The car slowed down.
They had arrived.
---
The Hotel
A massive luxury hotel stood before them.
Elegant.
Dominant.
But the real scene—
was at the entrance.
Crowds.
Reporters.
Cameras.
Far more than usual.
The moment the car stopped—
everything erupted.
"They're here!"
"Ansh has arrived!"
"Get the camera—quick!"
Flashes exploded.
Rudra looked outside.
"They were waiting."
Ansh wasn't surprised.
"…Of course they were."
Because this wasn't just any fighter arriving.
This was—
Ansh.
The former World Champion.
A name known across the entire world.
Someone who had once stood at the absolute peak.
Someone who had disappeared—
and now returned.
And tomorrow—
he was fighting again.
Against the current World Champion.
This wasn't news.
This was a storm.
The car door opened.
The moment Ansh stepped out—
the noise doubled.
"Ansh! Are you confident about your return?!"
"Do you think you can reclaim your title?!"
"Is this your comeback match?!"
"Why did you disappear before?!"
"Are you stronger than before?!"
Questions came from every direction.
But Ansh—
walked forward calmly.
Unbothered.
Because this—
was nothing new.
He had lived in this spotlight before.
The cameras.
The pressure.
The noise.
It didn't affect him anymore.
Rudra stepped forward slightly.
His presence—
heavy.
Cold.
The nearby security immediately reacted.
Forming a path.
No one dared step too close.
Not because of security—
But because of Rudra.
They moved forward.
Step by step.
Ignoring everything.
Until—
they entered the hotel.
Silence.
Instant.
Complete.
The chaos remained outside.
Ansh walked toward the elevator.
Unstoppable.
Unshaken.
Because tomorrow—
wasn't just a fight.
It was—
his return.
And in the shadows—
Eclipse Veil—
was already rising.
The moment Ansh stepped out of the car, the noise hit him like a wave.
Cameras flashed.
Voices overlapped.
Reporters surged forward, each trying to get closer, louder, more visible than the rest.
"Ansh! Over here!"
"Is it true you're returning after years?!"
"How do you compare yourself to the current World Champion?!"
"Do you think you can still win—"
He ignored all of it.
Completely.
His expression remained calm, almost bored, as if this entire scene was nothing more than a daily routine.
Because for him—
it was.
After all, he wasn't just another fighter.
He was a former World Champion.
Someone who had already stood at the very top.
This chaos?
This attention?
This pressure?
He had lived in it.
Walked through it.
Dominated it.
Beside him, Rudra moved forward slightly, his presence heavy and oppressive. The hotel security quickly coordinated with him, forming a path through the crowd.
"Make way."
His voice wasn't loud—
but it carried weight.
Enough to force people aside.
Ansh walked forward without stopping.
Without looking.
Without answering a single question.
But then—
his steps slowed.
Just slightly.
His eyes shifted.
And for the first time since stepping out—
something caught his attention.
A woman.
Standing a bit further away from the aggressive crowd.
Not pushing.
Not shouting.
Just watching.
Her posture was composed, professional… yet effortlessly elegant.
Her long hair fell neatly over her shoulders, slightly swaying with the breeze. She held a microphone in one hand, adjusting it lightly, her expression calm despite the chaos around her.
But what stood out—
was her face.
Sharp yet soft.
Confident yet natural.
And—
dangerously attractive.
Ansh's eyes lit up instantly.
"…Now that's something worth noticing."
Rudra, walking beside him, noticed the shift.
He followed Ansh's gaze—
and immediately recognized her.
Ah…
So it's her.
The same reporter.
The one Young Master watches… very carefully.
Not for the news.
Never for the news.
Ansh tilted his head slightly, still looking at her.
"…Call her."
Rudra blinked once.
"…Young master?"
"Call. Her."
Ansh repeated calmly.
A faint smirk appeared on his face.
"Tell her I'm giving her an exclusive interview."
Rudra remained silent for a second.
Then nodded.
"Understood."
But internally—
he sighed.
Exclusive interview…
Yeah.
Sure.
That's definitely the reason.
---
🎤 Meanwhile — Outside the Crowd
The female reporter lowered her microphone slightly, her expression carrying a hint of disappointment.
"Tch…"
She muttered under her breath.
"Nothing again…"
Around her, other reporters were aggressively pushing forward, shouting questions, trying to get even a single response.
And she?
She didn't bother.
Because she already knew.
People like him—
didn't answer randomly.
And forcing it only made things worse.
Still…
missing this opportunity stung a little.
She adjusted her posture, preparing to leave.
"…Guess today's just not—"
"Miss."
A voice interrupted her.
She turned.
And froze.
A tall man stood in front of her.
Sharp eyes.
Cold expression.
A presence that instantly made her instincts tighten.
Rudra.
"…Yes?" she replied cautiously.
Rudra looked at her for a brief second.
Then spoke calmly,
"The young master would like to invite you."
She blinked.
"…Excuse me?"
"For an exclusive interview."
Silence.
A brief—
very brief—
silence.
Then—
she smiled.
Not surprised.
Not shocked.
Just…
amused.
Of course.
Here we go again.
Inside her mind, she sighed.
Another one.
Another "exclusive interview."
She had seen this too many times.
Famous men.
Powerful figures.
Athletes.
Celebrities.
They all had one thing in common—
They always found a reason.
An interview.
A discussion.
A feature story.
Anything—
as long as it brought her closer.
And honestly?
She didn't mind.
Because in the end—
it benefited her.
Faster promotions.
Better visibility.
More recognition.
So instead of rejecting—
she simply adjusted her hair slightly and smiled professionally.
"I see."
Her tone was calm.
"Lead the way."
---
🏨 Inside the Hotel
As she walked beside Rudra, she glanced at him from the corner of her eye.
"…You're not security, are you?"
Rudra didn't look at her.
"No."
"…Bodyguard?"
"…Something like that."
She smiled faintly.
Definitely not normal.
The deeper they walked into the hotel—
the more she noticed.
The guards.
The coordination.
The subtle signals exchanged.
This wasn't just a simple arrangement.
This was controlled.
Precise.
Organized.
And for a brief moment—
a strange thought crossed her mind.
Just how important is this "young master"…?
---