The Almighty Dominance novel Chapter 312

“What the hell just happened? Is the fight already over?”

Stunned silence rippled through the crowd as every eye fixed on Chicago’s elite fighter, sprawled motionless on the ground—unconscious or asleep, no one could say for sure.

Disbelief ricocheted among the spectators.

Everyone had assumed the janitor stood no chance, yet the battle had ended in a shocking twist. Even stranger, the janitor had merely suggested his opponent sleep—and now the man lay flat, utterly defenseless.

“Impossible!” Byson exclaimed, eyes wide with disbelief. “Did that nobody actually win?”

“No way!” Clara spat bitterly. “He must have cheated! How else could he drop Chicago best without lifting a finger?”

“Can anyone explain what just happened?” Zane growled, confusion etched across his face.

“Our top four crumbled after just one speech!”

“What kind of trickery had the janitor employed?”

“He’s more dangerous than he looks,” Jaxon murmured, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. Even his keen gaze had failed to catch the janitor's secret.

Jasmine exploded with ecstatic laughter, leaping to her feet, triumph shining brightly in her eyes.

“Yes! He did it! Alex, you're amazing!” It was their first victory, and she savored every second.

“What's there to celebrate?” Victoria snapped, glaring at the triumphant figure in irritation.

The crowd erupted into heated speculation.

Though confusion and suspicion lingered, the janitor had undeniably proven the Kingstons could still claim victory.

Alex strutted arrogantly around the ring, lips twisted in scorn. “Anyone else need a bedtime story?” he sneered.

A surge of fury swept through the Chicago ranks. Insulting them was tantamount to playing with fire.

“That arrogant bastard!”

“How dare he!”

“He'll pay for this!”

“Watch your mouth, boy!” Zane bellowed, slamming his palm down furiously. “You’re courting death!”

“Enough chatter,” Alex shot back coolly. “Come on up and face me if you've got the guts.”

“You asked for it!” growled Chicago’s third-ranked fighter, a battle-hardened middle-aged warrior, stepping into the ring amid deafening cheers.

“The third rank’s joining the fight!”

“That janitor’s lost his damn mind. He’s dead meat!”

“Well, if he goes down, at least he’ll lose to someone worthy.”

The whispers surged with grim anticipation.

Byson smirked cruelly. “At least the fool will go out honorably, crushed by a real champion.”

The veteran fighter stared Alex down, his voice dripping venom. “Beg for mercy right now, and maybe I'll spare your pathetic life.”

“Bow to trash like you?” Alex laughed coldly, his eyes burning with contempt. “How about you get down on your knees instead?”

And suddenly, impossibly, the seasoned warrior’s knees buckled, collapsing before Alex, head lowered as if paying tribute.

Shock seized the entire arena.

“What the hell? Did he just surrender?”

“Did Kingston buy him off?”

“Impossible—this can’t be real!”

But no explanations emerged as Chicago’s third-ranked champion also slumped, unconscious, onto the mat.

“Black magic!” Chicago’s second-ranked fighter yelled, eyes wide with panic. “He's using black magic!”

Zane’s face turned pale. “You! Get in there and take him down!”

Swallowing hard, the second-ranked fighter murmured a prayer and stepped tentatively into the ring.

But the moment his feet touched the canvas, he too collapsed senselessly, falling limp like a puppet with severed strings.

The crowd gasped in sheer horror. Had they not witnessed it themselves, no one would believe Chicago’s elite had fallen so easily to an unknown.

Verify captcha to read the contentVerify