The second exchange was brief and devastating. Jake came forward with wild, desperate strikes. Marcus countered with surgical precision. A straight punch to the throat followed by a sweep that sent Jake tumbling. "Point Thompson.
Match Thompson." Jake lay on the mat for several seconds, his body shaking with sobs of pure humiliation. When he finally stood, his face was a mask of hatred and wounded pride. The gymnasium erupted in confused chatter as both Thompson twins stood victorious. The Warriors Path dojo section exploded into chaos.
"This is fraud!" Richard Harrison shouted, storming toward the tournament officials. "Those boys aren't yellow belts. They're sandbaggers." Bill Mills was right behind him, his face purple with rage.
"They've been hiding their real skill level. This is cheating." Sensei Mitchell joined the angry parents, his voice shaking with desperation. "There's been some kind of mistake. These boys couldn't even defend themselves two months ago.
Someone's been coaching them illegally." "They're ringers," Richard continued, jabbing his finger toward the twins. Professional fighters pretending to be beginners. "I demand an investigation." The tournament director, a patient man in his 60s, tried to calm the situation.
"Gentlemen, I've seen the boys' registration. They're legitimately ranked yellow belts from your own dojo." "Then they lied about their experience." Bill Mills snarled. "No yellow belt fights like that.
It's impossible." Meanwhile, Jake and Connor stood together near their dojo's seating area. Their humiliation complete and public. Both teenagers were fighting back tears of rage. Their carefully constructed image of superiority shattered in front of everyone they knew.
"This isn't over," Jake whispered, his voice with emotion. "They made us look like fools in front of everyone." They cheated somehow," Connor replied, his hands clenched into fists. "Yellow belts don't fight like that. It's not possible."
David Thompson approached the agitated parents and officials, his expression dangerously calm. "Is there a problem here?" "Your sons are frauds," Richard Harrison accused, pointing at the twins. "They're not yellow belts. This whole thing is a setup.
They earned their yellow belts at your dojo," David replied evenly. "Two months ago in front of your instructor." "Then someone's been training them illegally," Bill Mills shouted. "No beginner developed skills like that. Maybe your sons just aren't as good as you thought they were," David said, his voice carrying quiet menace.
The accusation hit like a physical blow. Both fathers recoiled, their faces flushing with renewed anger at the suggestion that their sons, their perfect superior sons, had been legitimately defeated by kids they considered inferior. "We know what we saw," Richard snarled. "Those boys humiliated Jake and Connor on purpose. Made them look weak and stupid.
Maybe because Jake and Connor are weak and stupid," Marcus said quietly. appearing beside his father. The words struck like lightning. Jake Harrison let out a strangled cry of rage and started toward Marcus, but tournament security quickly intervened. "That's enough," the tournament director announced. "The matches were fair and legitimate.