NOVEL NEXT CHAPTER 34: The $100K Challenge
Surprisingly, Team Portal Crusher wasn’t the only one caught off guard by the SFB’s recent moves. The SFB president himself had been blindsided. As he watched the draft unfold alongside his management team, his eyes narrowed when he noticed Atlas’s name missing from the roster. His mind raced with questions.
*Was this a ploy from a competitor to make him look bad? Did Atlas turn down being on the wildcard slots? Was this some PR stunt his team pulled without his approval? Like some sort of anti-PR designed to create controversy?*
He remembered a decade ago when a razor company launched a campaign about "how men suck" and used it to generate buzz and hate. *Was this the same kind of tactic?*
The president needed answers, but he didn’t want to go off half-cocked.
"Marion, gather the info about the incident for me."
"Will do, sir," Marion responded, already tapping away on her tablet.
*****
Meanwhile, across town, Mohamed and Chuck were enjoying a lavish meal at Red Snapper. They reveled in their success, toasting with a bottle of fine white wine, perfectly paired with king crab.
"You did great there, Chuck," Mohamed said with a satisfied grin.
Chuck shrugged modestly. "Thanks. It was really no big deal. Just had to look at the rules and make sure everyone was playing by them. Nobody likes a cheat, you know."
They both had their own reasons to shaft Team Portal Crusher. It was no big deal in their heads, though. Just another uppity newcomer team getting too big for its britches.
They clinked glasses, basking in their triumph. But their celebration was short-lived.
As they exited the restaurant, the streets were buzzing with activity. Groups of people gathered on the sidewalk, their eyes glued to their phones, chattering excitedly.
"Dude, did you see that $100K challenge?"
"I know, right? That sounds sick. Man, that Atlas is a baller."
Mohamed’s smile faltered. He quickly ducked into his limo, pulling out his phone. *Atlas $100K challenge baller*—he typed quickly, and what he saw made his heart sink.
Atlas had made his move, and it was slick—damn slick.
*The $100K challenge?*
Atlas, in a calculated and audacious move, had taken to social media to challenge anyone—any fighter, any gym—to face him in a no-holds-barred exhibition match. The catch? Atlas was putting up $100,000 of his own money as the prize. If they could beat him, they could take the cash.
Win or lose, the fight would be streamed live for all to see, with all ticket proceeds from the fight going to charity. Tickets were already selling well online, and it looked like it was going to be a huge crowd.
Mohamed and Chuck, who had been riding high on their earlier victory, now felt the cold sting of reality. Their celebration had soured, and the looming specter of Atlas’s challenge cast a dark shadow over their win.
"They aren’t going to shaft me on this, will they?" Chuck asked, his voice laced with concern.
"No. They can’t. The SFB made the decision as an organization, and they can’t back down, or they’d look horrible. They have to control the spin, though. Besides, the rules are there in the rulebook, fair and square."
Their little act of pettiness might have unintended consequences now, neither of them wanted this to blow up like it did.
"Well, let me just say if I become a scapegoat, I’m bringing you with me, buddy."
Mohamed didn’t look pleased at that statement. His mind raced as he considered the implications of Chuck’s words.
*****
The SFB community was in an uproar. The $100,000 challenge had sent shockwaves through the ranks of fighters, trainers, and fans alike. Talk buzzed in the locker rooms and training spaces, a mix of excitement, curiosity, and anxiety hanging in the air.
"I’m not taking that fight," said a ranked fighter, shaking his head as he wrapped his hands.
"No, it would be stupid. If we lose, we look dumb and useless," his friend replied, tightening his gloves. The thought of getting embarrassed in front of a massive online audience didn’t sit well with the elite fighters. They had reputations to maintain, after all.
"Well, some of the wildcards might go," another fighter chimed in as he prepared for his next training round.
"Yeah, doesn’t hurt their reputation as much," someone else added, shrugging. The wildcards were always looking for a break, and this was the kind of risk they thrived on.
"Still going to be an interesting fight, though," a coach mused, his eyes scanning the gym floor. He knew that despite the hesitation from the top-tier fighters, someone would step up to take the challenge. They always did.
*****
At the same time, back at SFB headquarters, the president’s management team was abuzz with the news. They brought the $100K challenge to his attention, and as he watched the video, his phone rang. The caller ID made his stomach drop—Anchor Beer.
"Mr. President, we didn’t pay you for controversy. We wanted a clean, simple campaign where we could sell beer and celebrate masculinity." This was the fourth call about advertisement and sponsorship that he had fielded in the last hour.
The president clenched his jaw. "I’m looking into it. I’ll have an answer for you right away."
The challenge video replayed in his mind as he tried to piece together what had just happened.
The challenge had caught fire online. It was the perfect blend of charity, spectacle, and raw competition—the exact opposite of what the SFB wanted: controlled, regulated, and profitable entertainment.
Atlas had not only managed to turn his disqualification into a rallying cry, but had also put the SFB in a tight spot. If they tried to shut it down, they’d look like the bad guys, stifling competition and charity. If they allowed it, it would undermine the draft and their control over the league.
The president knew he was backed into a corner.
Atlas had outmaneuvered them.
The $100K challenge was more than just a fight; it was a statement. Atlas wasn’t going to back down, and now the whole world was watching to see who would accept the challenge.
***
Three days later, the locker room buzzed with nervous energy. For the fighters who had just barely made it through the wildcard slots, this was their shot—a chance to prove they belonged in the big leagues. Among the challengers were three fighters who had decided, almost immediately after hearing the news, to go after Atlas’s $100K challenge.
First up was Trevor "The Iron Fist" Jacobs, a tall, lean fighter from the Raging Bull gym. The Raging Bull wasn’t a flashy gym, and they didn’t have the backing of corporate sponsors like Sword and Iron, but they had a reputation for producing scrappy, relentless fighters. Trevor had clawed his way up from the bottom, never backing down from a fight, and today was no different. He wasn’t about to let this opportunity pass him by.
Next was Javier "El Toro" Reyes, representing The Crimson Vipers. Javier was a powerhouse, known for his brutal, no-nonsense fighting style. His gym was notorious for training fighters who didn’t just win—they dominated. Javier was convinced that if anyone could take on Atlas, it was him. The idea of $100,000 in his pocket was just icing on the cake.
Finally, there was Luke "Nightshade" Carson from Midnight Sabers. Luke was the underdog of the trio, having only just made it into the wildcard slots. Midnight Sabers wasn’t known for producing champions, but Luke had a reputation for surprising his opponents with unconventional tactics. He wasn’t the strongest or the fastest, but he was clever, and that had gotten him further than anyone had expected.
The SFB president watched all this unfold with a growing sense of dread. He knew that Atlas’s challenge had changed the game. The controversy was all over the place, and the future of the SFB was uncertain. As the fighters geared up for the $100K challenge, the president could only hope that the league would survive the shitstorm that Atlas had unleashed.
***
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