Malcolm arrived.
“I don’t want you feeling pushed into anything.”
“I am being pushed.”
He winced.
“Then walk away.”
Another good answer.
Naomi looked at Logan.
Then at Lila.
“One round.”
Logan smiled.
Naomi raised one finger.
“My rules.”
The smile faded.
“Technical.”
“Fine.”
“No entertainment.”
She gestured toward the crowd.
“Fine.”
“If somebody taps, you let go instantly.”
“Obviously.”
Naomi studied him.
“Nothing becomes obvious once pride enters the room.”
Malcolm stepped between them.
Four minutes.
Controlled contact.
No slams.
No reckless submissions.
If Malcolm said stop, both stopped.
Everyone agreed.
Erin asked Naomi quietly, “What rank?”
“Rusty.”
“That isn’t a rank.”
“It becomes one after thirteen years.”
The round began.
For the first ten seconds, Logan expected beginner reactions.
Naomi recognized that instantly.
He offered traps too obvious to be real.
She ignored them.
He adjusted.
She mirrored.
He reached.
She moved.
Nothing dramatic.
Logan’s smile slowly disappeared.
Naomi’s body felt strangely divided.
Her joints remembered age.
Her timing remembered youth.
She could feel thirteen years of rust wrapped around movements that once required no thought.
Logan attacked seriously.
Naomi defended.
Barely.
They reset.
People murmured.
“What belt?” Logan asked.
Naomi smiled.
“You already asked.”
He increased pressure.
One minute passed.
Then another.
Logan remained faster and more conditioned.
Naomi expected that.
What he had not expected was that she understood every question he was asking.
She simply lacked the old body for some of the answers.
He attempted a takedown.
Naomi reacted automatically.
Logan ended on his knees.
His back opened.
Naomi could have taken it.
She stepped away instead.
The crowd reacted.
Logan stood.
“Why’d you stop?”
“It’s an exhibition.”
Something in him changed.
Not entirely.
Not yet.
But the round stopped being curiosity.
Now it became proof.
The next exchange was harder.
Logan drove pressure.
Naomi’s knee complained.
She defended.
He adapted.
Eventually he put her on the mat cleanly.
The crowd cheered.
Naomi smiled internally.
Good.
Really good.
She had forgotten how satisfying a genuine technical problem could feel.
For nearly a minute they moved without ego.
Then people began chanting Logan’s name.
Something changed again.
His movements became harder.
Less exploratory.
Naomi felt it immediately.
He wanted the expected ending.
Champion dominates stranger.
Malcolm called one minute remaining.