Lr stories part 1: Power royale

Chapter 53: Final Hunt Part 6

The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the battlefield where William and Benito stood. The once vibrant landscape had been reduced to a wasteland of scorched earth and broken ground, a testament to the brutal battles that had taken place. William could feel his heart pounding in his chest, his muscles tense with exhaustion, but his eyes never left Benito.

Benito smirked, wiping a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth. "You know what I'm going to do when this is all over, William?" he asked, his voice dripping with malice. "I'm going to take that billion dollars and have a statue made of this moment—the moment I end your life on live television. I'll place it right in the middle of my estate, where everyone can see it. And they'll all know who the true champion is."

William's gaze hardened, the metal armor covering his body glinting in the fading light. "You're sick, Benito," he spat, tightening his fists. "You don't care about anyone but yourself."

Benito's grin widened. "That's where you're wrong, William. I care about winning. And right now, that means ending you."

He lunged forward, closing the distance between them in an instant. William braced himself, the metal on his body shifting to absorb the impact. Benito's fist collided with William's chest, but the metal held firm, preventing the blow from doing any serious damage.

But Benito wasn't finished. He drew back and struck again, this time with a series of rapid punches that rattled William's armor. Each hit sent shockwaves through the metal, but William stood his ground, refusing to give an inch.

"This is it, folks!" Announcer 1's voice boomed over the arena, filled with excitement. "The final showdown between William Dangerfield and Benito Garcia! Who will emerge victorious?"

Announcer 2's voice was more measured, but no less intense. "Both fighters are at their limits. William's metal manipulation has kept him in the fight, but Benito's relentless assault could tip the scales at any moment. This is anyone's game."

William gritted his teeth, feeling the pressure mounting with each of Benito's attacks. He knew he couldn't keep this up forever—Benito was too fast, too powerful. If he didn't find a way to end this soon, he'd be the one lying dead on the ground.

And then, in a moment of clarity, an idea came to him.

"Benito," William said, his voice calm despite the chaos around them. "You're right about one thing. This is the end."

Before Benito could react, William focused all his energy on the metal in Benito's bloodstream. Iron, a trace element in every human body, responded to his will. He visualized it swelling, expanding within Benito's brain.

Benito froze, a look of confusion crossing his face. "What... what are you doing?" he stammered, his movements growing sluggish as the pressure in his skull increased. "Stop... you can't..."

But William didn't stop. He poured everything he had into the iron, forcing it to grow and expand until—

With a sickening crack, Benito's head exploded in a burst of blood and gore, his body crumpling to the ground in a lifeless heap. The battlefield fell silent, the only sound the dull thud of Benito's body hitting the earth.

For a moment, William just stood there, his chest heaving with exhaustion as he stared down at his fallen enemy. It was over. Benito Garcia, the man who had terrorized the Power Royale, was dead.

"And there you have it, folks!" Announcer 1's voice was triumphant, filled with awe. "William Dangerfield has done it! He's defeated Benito Garcia and claimed victory in the Power Royale!"

Announcer 2's tone was equally impressed. "This was a battle for the ages. William's quick thinking and mastery of his powers have secured him the ultimate prize. He is the last man standing, the champion of the Power Royale."

As the reality of his victory sank in, William felt a wave of relief wash over him. He had done it. He had survived. And now, the billion dollars—and the promise of a new life—were his.

But as he looked around at the devastation, the bodies of his fallen competitors scattered across the battlefield, William couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt. He had won, but at what cost? How many lives had been lost for this prize?

He pushed the thoughts aside, knowing there would be time to reflect later. For now, he had a prize to claim.

With one last glance at Benito's body, William turned and walked away, leaving the battlefield behind as the sounds of cheers and applause filled the air. He was the winner of the Power Royale—but in the end, he knew, there were no real winners here. Only survivors.