Chapter-10: The Plunderer and the King

Later that night, Isagi lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. The room was silent, the only sound being the soft breathing of his teammates. His body was exhausted, but his mind refused to rest.

He thought of his parents. The warmth of their home, the aroma of his mother's cooking filling the air. His father's laughter, the way his mother used to pat his head after a match. Whenever he won, they would prepare his favorite meal as a celebration.

The memory stabbed at him like a dagger.

He clenched his fists, his chest tightening. That life was gone now. His parents were gone. Their home, their love, their warmth.All stolen from him. What remained was this relentless hunger, this need to survive, to take what the world had denied him.

A lump formed in his throat, but he swallowed it down. He would not break. Not now.

Isagi turned to his side, exhaling deeply. If he could no longer receive his parents' love, then he would create his own legacy. He would carve his name into history, plundering every opportunity until he stood at the top.

With that thought, he closed his eyes, allowing sleep to take him. But even in his dreams, the echoes of his past lingered, whispering reminders of where he came from, and where he was destined to go.

The next day, after their triumphant win, the air outside the training facility was cool and crisp. Isagi stepped out for a breath of fresh air when he felt an unmistakable presence behind him. A heavy, powerful aura, like a storm waiting to strike.

Shoei Barou stood a few feet away, arms crossed, his crimson eyes burning with frustration. Despite his imposing frame and natural talent, his team had lost, and Barou was not the type to accept defeat quietly.

"So," Barou growled, stepping forward. "You're the one who turned the game around."

Isagi met his gaze calmly. "That's what the scoreboard says."

Barou's lips curled into a sneer. "I don't care about numbers. The way you played, it wasn't just luck, was it?"

"Of course not."

Barou took another step closer. "Then prove it. One-on-one. Right here, right now."

The challenge hung in the air. Barou's fiery intensity clashed against Isagi's unwavering confidence. But instead of immediately accepting, Isagi tilted his head slightly, considering him.

Then, he smirked.

"I am the plunderer," Isagi said, his voice even. "And I will make you the Beggar King."

Barou's entire body tensed. His pupils dilated as a long-buried memory surfaced.

He was younger, standing in a crowded playground, dominating every match, every player. He had proclaimed himself the King because that was what he was above all others.

But then, one day, a frail boy, dressed in rags, had walked onto the field. He had been small, seemingly weak. No one had taken him seriously.

Until he destroyed them all.

He had outmaneuvered Barou, read his movements before he could even act, stolen his plays before he could execute them.

Barou had stood there, humiliated, seething, but mostly shocked.

"You think you're the king?" the boy had said with a quiet smirk. "Then I'll make you a beggar."

That same phrase. That same chilling confidence.

Barou blinked, returning to the present. His fingers curled into fists.

"Who… the hell… are you?" he muttered under his breath.

Isagi shrugged. "Just someone who knows how to steal from kings."

Barou's teeth clenched. His blood boiled, but underneath the anger, there was something else. Something he hated to admit.

Doubt.

This wasn't just some fluke. Isagi wasn't just some lucky player who had stumbled his way into victory. He was a thief. A plunderer. Someone who took what he wanted and made it his own.

Barou narrowed his eyes. "You think you're better than me?"

Isagi smiled. "Not yet. But I will be."

Barou took a threatening step forward, but Isagi raised a hand to stop him.

"Come back when you've improved," he said, his voice unwavering. "When you're not just a king, but an emperor. Then maybe… you'll be a challenge."

Silence stretched between them. Barou's nails dug into his palm, but he didn't move. His pride warred with the undeniable truth before him.

Finally, with a frustrated huff, Barou turned on his heel and walked away, his mind racing.

Isagi watched him go, then exhaled slowly. He had planted the seed of doubt in a king's mind.

And someday, he would take his crown.

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Hey everyone, it's your author here. My exams are beginning from tomorrow. So I may not be able to write this week. But I am really thankful to the 65(and counting) collectors of my fanfiction. It really means a lot for me when you collect my novel and donate me Powerstones. All reviews will be positively accepted. And Thank You everyone for supporting my novel.

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