Across the table from where Dave and the two girls were seated, a small group of teenage boys sat, their eyes constantly flicking over to Dave.
Every now and then, one of them would glance away, as though trying to avoid the feeling of envy gnawing at them. But it was hard to ignore the fact that Dave had become the talk of the base ever since his stunning victory the day before.
The whispers of "One hit" reverberated in the air, carried from one conversation to the next, like an unshakable rumor that wouldn't die. It was all anyone could talk about, and for the executives, it was starting to grow old. People had begun to grumble about it, the constant mention of Dave's knockout victory was becoming an irritant.
One of the boys, a lanky figure with dark, suspicious eyes, leaned in and muttered with a sneer, "How is it even possible for him to defeat those people with just one hit? He must be faking it, right?"
