Half an hour later, the scheduled time for the opening ceremony arrived, and Aomori still had not appeared.
Mr. Oomoto panicked. While dispatching more staff to search for Aomori, he quickly adjusted the tournament schedule, adding a few martial arts demonstrations to stall for time.
Initially, the audience was highly enthusiastic, watching the demonstrations with great interest. However, gradually, more and more spectators grew impatient.
"I want to see Aomori! I want to see Aomori! I'm dying without Aomori!"
"Get off the stage! I came to watch the tournament, not a performance!"
"Boo!"
Amidst the chorus of boos echoing throughout the arena, the performers hurriedly finished their acts and shamefully retreated from the stage. The host struggled greatly to calm the audience down.
"I can't take it anymore! Start the tournament, or the audience is going to riot," the host wailed to Mr. Oomoto after getting off the stage.
Mr. Oomoto knew they couldn't delay any further. He reluctantly allowed the opening ceremony to proceed as planned, while secretly modifying the match schedule: "We will divide the contestants into four groups. We'll pick one seeded player for each group, and the seeded player will only fight the final winner of that group."
"Oh, I see! It's a way to stall for as much time as possible. Oomoto-san, you are so clever," the staff member said, genuinely impressed.
"Less flattering, and start arranging the seeded players first." Mr. Oomoto managed a strained smile. "Aomori-san is obviously a seeded player; we'll put him in the last group, Group D. The seeded player for Group A will be Suiryu, he's the defending champion, no problem there. For Group B, let's go with Garou. He's Bang's top disciple and quite famous. For Group C, we can choose Bearman. He's a martial arts veteran and the runner-up from the last tournament. He's qualified."
"Exactly, that's completely feasible. Let's arrange it that way."
And so, the new tournament schedule was finalized.
At the same time, the Martial Arts Tournament officially kicked off.
"Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for your patience!" The host, a middle-aged man in a suit and sunglasses, shouted passionately: "The 16th Martial Arts Tournament begins now! Let us first invite our competitors to make their orderly entrance!"
"First to enter is our reigning champion, possessing unparalleled strength and immense popularity among the ladies—Void Fist Suiryu! He won the last tournament with a massive advantage. Will he successfully defend his title this time?!"
"Yeah, yeah!" The tall and handsome Suiryu was the first to emerge from the competitor's tunnel, waving enthusiastically to the audience, ready to accept their cheers. However, what he heard was vastly different from what he expected.
"Whoa, this guy's pretty handsome, but my Aomori-sama is the most handsome!"
"Exactly, I'm here for Aomori-sam!"
"Get lost, pretty boy! My Aomori is the only champion!"
"..."
"Pretty boy?" Suiryu touched his tanned skin. This was the first time he'd ever heard the term "pretty boy" used on him. He looked a little gloomy: "Who is that Aomori guy? Some kind of idol star? If he dares to annoy this great Suiryu, I'll teach him a little lesson if we meet later."
The host continued to introduce the other competitors: "Next to appear is Head First Rushing Fist Zakkos! This is his first time competing, and rumor has it he plans to propose to his girlfriend if he wins a match! We hope Zakkos achieves his wish and wins the beauty's hand!"
"...Next up is the rising martial arts star, a disciple of the martial arts master Bang, whose strength should not be underestimated—Water Stream Rock Smashing Fist Garou!"
Garou, hands in pockets, strode expressionlessly onto the stage. His wolf-like gaze swept over the competitors, causing many to get goosebumps.
Suiryu looked at Garou with interest. His instinct told him this was a formidable opponent: "A successor of the Water Stream Rock Smashing Fist? How interesting."
'A bunch of garbage. I have no desire to fight them,' Garou mused, withdrawing his gaze. 'I didn't see that Aomori kid in the waiting room. Did he really run away?'
The introductions continued: "Next up is the runner-up from the last tournament, who narrowly lost to Suiryu—Old Tree Root Style Bearman! After half a year of intense training, can he redeem himself today?"
Bearman was a muscular, built man. The moment he entered, he fixed his eyes on Suiryu with a murderous glare, making no attempt to hide his hostility.
Suiryu yawned. 'How boring. Just a big punching bag that can take a few hits.'
"And now, finally, it's time for our last competitor to take the stage!"
Before the host could announce the name, a massive roar of cheers erupted from the audience: "Aomori! Aomori! Aomori!"
"That's right!" the host yelled at the top of his lungs: "Please welcome the universally beloved, song-and-dance-talented, handsome and dashing, graceful and elegant, also a disciple of the martial arts master Bang, a hero of exceptional strength who actively saves citizens, our big star—Water Stream Rock Smashing Fist Aomori!"
"Aomori! Aomori! Aomori!"
The eyes of all the audience members and all the competitors focused on the exit of the competitor's tunnel.
Under the collective gaze of tens of thousands, a tall figure wearing a martial arts uniform walked out.
The cheering instantly ceased.
"Why is my darling Aomori wearing a mask?"
"Ahhh! I want to see Aomori's stunning face!"
The "Aomori" who walked out was wearing a monkey-like mask, immediately triggering dissatisfaction from the majority of the audience.
The host wiped cold sweat and nervously explained: "Competitor Aomori requested to wear the mask himself. He wants the competitors and the audience to focus less on his appearance and more on the marvelous martial arts. Our committee respects Competitor Aomori's wishes and has permitted him to wear the mask."
"Is that so? Then it's fine."
"Aomori is the best ever! Mommy loves you!"
"It's a shame we can't see Aomori's face, but if it's Aomori's wish, then there's no helping it. I will always support Aomori!"
The audience's emotions stabilized.
Backstage, all the staff members paid their highest respects to Oomoto: "Oomoto-san, you truly are incredible!"
"No, no, not at all." Oomoto said, a wide smile on his face. "The most urgent task is still to find Aomori as quickly as possible, or we'll really be in trouble."
"Yes!"
This "Aomori" was a staff member of similar height whom Oomoto had disguised. This successfully placated the audience. Now, all they had to do was find the real Aomori before "Aomori" had to compete, and everything would be perfect.
Under the watchful eyes of the entire arena, "Aomori" nervously walked to the center of the ring.
Garou, standing behind him, closely scrutinized "Aomori's" back. He felt that something was slightly off: 'Could it be... could it be that he has diarrhea?'
The feeling of having diarrhea was indeed uncomfortable, and the legs can cramp up after squatting for too long.
Garou nodded in empathy, having experienced it himself, and shouted at "Aomori": "Hey! Get yourself back in shape quickly, or my win won't even be glorious!"
"Aomori" was startled. Unable to speak, he could only give Garou a thumbs-up.
"Hmph!" Garou turned his head away dismissively.
"Aomori" sighed with relief, internally crying out: "All the gods and Buddhas, please ensure Aomori-san returns soon!"
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You can read the ahead chapter on Patr-eon if you're interested: p-atre-on.c-om/Overgod [Just remove the hyphen to access normally]