Part-57

  James' breath hitched in his throat. Survive for three minutes without using any skills? This wasn't a test of his newfound knowledge; it was a deliberate attempt to sabotage him. The System, ever maniputive, was throwing a wrento the works, f him to fight with one hand tied behind his back.

  Now that he thinks about it, this was the first time the system gave him another mission without pleting the previous one. Well, he doesn't have time to think about that right now.

  Panic threateo e him. Three minutes against Sourov, a seasoned martial artist, with no ability to use his training? It seemed like an impossible feat. The thought of public humiliation, the potential injury the penalty warned of, it all swirled in his mind like a dizzying vortex.

  With a deep breath, James lowered his stance, adopting a more defensive posture. He wouldn't attaot directly. But he wouldn't be a sitting duck either. He would use his agility, his newfound awareness, to evade Sourov's attacks, to prolong this impossible fight for as long as possible. Three minutes. That was all he had to do.

  Sourov, clearly fused by James' ck of aggressioated for a moment. Then, with a roar, he lunged forward, a powerful Judo throw aimed at sending James sprawling to the ground. James, fueled by adrenaline and a desperate urge to survive, twisted out of the way at the st sed, the force of the missed attack whipping past him.

  The crowd, initially buzzing with anticipation, fell silent, stunned by the ued turn of events. James, sweat beading on his forehead, khis wouldn't st. He had to keep moving, keep thinking, or three minutes would feel like ay.

  The fight desded into a frantic ballet of evasion and desperation. James, fueled by a cocktail of adrenaline and defiance, danced around Sourov's attacks, relying on the remnants of his pre-System karate training. He remembered a basic block – a rising forearm to deflect a blow – and used it to nudge aowerful right hook aimed at his jaw. But Sourov, a bull in a a shop, was relentless. His sheer size and strength made James' karate maneuvers seem like the filing of a fly against a windshield.

  James felt a searing pai in his shoulder as Sourov nded a gng blow. He stumbled back, the taste of blood metalli his tongue. Paniawed at the edges of his newfound resolve. Three minutes felt like ay, each tick of his internal clock hammering a death knell.

  He g the crowd, their faces a mix of fusion and morbid curiosity. A part of him craved their support, their cheers to fuel his unlikely resistance. But another part, a part hardened by the System's maniputions, khis was a fight for his own survival, not a crowd-pleasing spectacle.

  Just as Sourov lunged for atack, a memory flickered in James' mind. It wasn't a fancy martial arts teique, but a trick from his childhood, something he and his friend Beo pull on each other after watg Jackie movies. A desperate gamble, but it was all he had.