The match was won, but the tournament was far from over. All Zamson had to do was win them all to get closer to Noctavion. Casiel Cane was just a pushover.
Resting on the living room couch watching the news, Zamson anticipated a challenge down the line. The best ones always showed up last. Sort of like how he arrived at the first race only to zip in first at the end.
A risky act to explicitly hook Noctavion's eye. And it did. And Zamson believed it.
Violence filled Zamson's flatscreen tv. Twilight City was a hot mess. News surrounding petty gang wars, political discord, weather forecasts foreseeing more rain, and odd murders not even the detectives can surface the truth. All Zamson could speculate was Noctavion being a possible suspect behind the scenes. A master of chaos who was no doubt hunting for something.
Hunting for someone.