YM778.TV Chapter 567
In short words, arm-wrestling.
Bing was the one to promote the event and we had 20 tables modified just for the occasion. The wooden pegs could be secured on each side of the table together with the padding where the arm-wrestler’s elbows would be placed.
Five of the tables could be freely used to practice or have friendly matches, ten would be for the open bet category, and the last five would be used for the main arm-wrestling competition. Huge rewards and bragging rights could be acquired if they were crowned champion and the soldiers from Morales’ side were fired up.
The open bet category would be a free-for-all for any two individuals that wanted to have a quick bet with each other, freely betting anything that they agreed on. The house wouldn’t take a cut from this category and it was more for the bonding experience with a small twist just to keep things a little competitive.
The main competition would be for a set group of people with their own weight class and whether they would be competing with their right hand or left hand. A buy-in would be required and the sole winner for each class and category would be awarded everything after a small cut was taken for the house.
Referees and cameras would be put to use aside from the free tables, and judges coming from the main base and each outpost would be assigned to settle a challenge in the ruling when it gets close. A winner for each match would be decided when the player managed to down their opponent three times or if the other player got disqualified.
As a last-minute rule, onlookers were allowed to bet with anyone as to who would win the tables though a huge pot would be revealed later before starting the main competition. The odds would be calculated automatically and the rewards would be distributed appropriately.
It was still a little bit early to start the main competition since more and more were still signing up so we decided to open the tables for free use and the open bet category.
Everyone present immediately crowded around them and friends and rivals started competing with one another. Kaley and the others were fine watching from the screen but I wanted to get a little more involved. Rin took it upon herself to take care of the competition bracket so I decided to look around and officiate with Zeus.
Zeus’ tail was wagging as he ran around the lively camp, “Woof!”
I chuckled as I called him over, “Where do you want to go? Table 3 sounds cool, right?”
Zeus lifted his paw and pointed to a different table, “Woof.”
“What? You wanted to go to table 12?! Isn’t that- oh~ Nice job, Zeus!”
Zeus jumped a few times as he turned around and rushed past me, “Woof! Woof!”
“Hey! Wait for me!”
Zeus and I circled around the crowd but most of them let us cut in when they noticed we were trying to watch the matches. Table 12 was something special because it was a match between Russel and Allan. It was also in the open bet category and the bets they placed were a tray of eggs, two boxes of Milk Dud, a live eel, a paper airplane, and a box of bottle caps.
‘What the fu- nevermind…’
The two were rousing the crowd as they stretched their whole bodies and they started… something else…
Russel roared, “YOU’RE GOING DOWN, BITCH!”
Allan retorted, “UH-HUH! I’M GOING DOWN ON YOUR BITCH, ALL RIGHT! I’M GOING DOWN ON YOUR BITCH ALL NIGHT WHEN YOU’RE AWAY!!!”
The crowd instantly lost it, “OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH~!!! SHITTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT~!!!”
“I-”
“WHAT?! CAT GOT YOUR TONGUE?!”
“I-I’m alone…”
“Dude… I…”
“F.U.C.K YOU!!! I’M GONNA BREAK YOUR ARMS AND I’LL SHOVE IT UP YOUR ASS!!! YOU F.U.C.K.I.N.G ASSHOLE!!!”
“WHA- W-WELL GO F.U.C.K YOURSELF!!! IT SEEMS TO BE THE ONLY THING YOU’RE DOING!!!”
“OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH~ SHITTTTTTTTTTTTTT~!!!”
“Woof!”
‘When are they gonna start…’
Several matches have already concluded but the two kept on trash-talking instead of actually starting their bout. Bing had to bonk the two of them with a plastic bat and the two were actually tearing up as they started. However, their setup was too anticlimactic as Allan flipped over when Russel let loose on his ass.
Allan wasn’t able to win a single round and they were pelted with anything the crowd was holding in their hands.
“What a waste of time!”
“I should’ve watched what was happening on table 2!”
“He’s too weak!”
“Or is that kid too strong?”
“Aren’t they friends?”
“After that? I dunno…”
I was shaking my head when I looked at their confused expressions but the two made up almost immediately. They were about to start another match but a lot of commotion was happening in table 19. I could hear the old timer’s hearty laughs and cheers would erupt after a loud slam.
Oscar roared, “GATHER AROUND! GATHER AROUND! IF YOU WANT TO GET SHIT-FACED, YOU GOT TO GET SHIT-FACED IN STYLE! LIKE I SAID EARLIER, THE ONE WHO WOULD BE ABLE TO WIN 10 STRAIGHT MATCHES WOULD WIN THIS BARREL OF MOONSHINE I BREWED MYSELF! AS YOU CAN SEE, ONLY THE STRONG DESERVES THE BEST SO WHO’LL GO NEXT?!”
Oscar and the old dudes were actually promoting a little event of their own in which the players would need to drink a shot of moonshine before beginning the match. After that, the winner would be required to drink another shot while the challenger would be prompted to do the first shot for his turn.
It would go on and on until a winner was crowned though the farthest a challenger has gone was when he had fallen over after the 4th shot. The new record holder was actually a resident from Woodlands named Mike, but the new challenger was actually Brian. He was already wearing a smirk as he readied himself but his face changed expression the moment he took the shot.
Mike wasn’t faring any better and his posture wobbled just after the 2nd shot.
‘Heh, the old man’s moonshine is something else… I wouldn’t drink that casually…’
Matthew raised his hands, “Ready? Go!”
The crowd went wild as the two arm-wrestlers’ arms tensed and locked. Brian got the upper hand because his arm was still fresh but the moment Mike was about to lose, his arm didn’t budge one bit. He started to slowly overpower Brian and their arms just switched places in a blink of an eye. Only a few centimeters was left before Brian’s defeat and he tired out after a few intense seconds.
However, the moment the 2nd round started, Brian slammed Mike’s hand straight into the table, finishing the round with the fastest time possible. The crowd went wild after that and the following rounds became a battle of either attrition or explosive power. Brian won in the end but his face was telling him that the moonshine was already halfway in beating him senseless.
Brian actually broke the record of 4 wins as he managed to scr.a.p.e by just by using his fast and the furious method. He managed to attain 6 wins in total but he lost in the 7th round due to being too intoxicated. The person who beat him was actually Mark though he lost in his 3rd match when he was up against a soldier from Morales’ camp. It seemed like no one would win the challenge but it all changed when this one particular person was dragged by Mikhail.
I hadn’t known this person that long but I’ve known him for someone that could hold it together. Zeus’ tail was wagging nonstop as he caught a whiff of his secret supply and I could hear Oscar’s curses the moment he saw the guy’s mug.
Oscar roared, “The f.u.c.k are you doing here? Aren’t you in the main competition?!”
Artem shook his head, “No, I’m actually just planning to watch the happenings…”
“Hngh~ Fine! Fine! Take a shot and we’ll start!”
As I predicted what would happen, the effectiveness of Oscar’s brew was almost cut in half when it traveled Artem’s body. He breezed everything right until the 9th challenge when Bogdan came up as the new challenger. However, the demolition man stood no chance with Artem who was now being called Bacchus by the crowd. He only managed to win a single round when Artem was tired and Artem only needed one win to secure the barrel.
The crowd kept on cheering Artem’s name and his new-found alias but everyone lost it when Oscar actually stood at the opposite side of him. A few of the onlookers were smirking at Oscar’s final attempt to save face but their jaw dropped when Oscar rolled his sleeves. His muscles were bulging and he definitely had guns that wouldn’t lose to anyone easily.
‘Heh. Well, shit… almost forgot about that…’
Oscar slammed 10 shots one after the other before placing his hand on the padding, “You think you could beat me, you little shit? I eat chumps like you for breakfast! You think I’d lose to you because I’m old? Think again!”
Everyone went crazy at what was happening and Artem took his last shot before locking arms with the old man, “Uvazhat- Respect.”