Ryoma settles into the red corner, resting his arms along the ropes as the arena remains suspended in expectation.
From the upper bowl, the trumpet girl carries her melody to its final sustained note, clear and unwavering, before letting it fade into the vastness of the hall.
In that very instant, Kenji Matsuda lifts his arm.
"Long live the Chameleon King! Crown of the cruel, rule of the ring!"
And the Cruel King Army answers with a sharp, unified war cry that strikes the arena like a blade drawn from its sheath.
"RAAAAAHHH! Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!"
It is not chaos but command, the sound of soldiers acknowledging their standard.
Just as swiftly as it erupts, it ends. More than two thousand members return to their seats in perfect unison.
The house lights rise to full strength. The commentators finally allow their voices to return to normal register.
"Ladies and gentlemen," one begins, steady but resonant, "this is what we have all been waiting for."
