The arena was silent, taut with anticipation. Cain and Kane stood opposite each other, the tension between them sharp enough to cut through the air. Kane’s chest swelled with arrogance, a smirk painted across his face. “So this is the infamous Cain,” he sneered. “Come to embarrass yourself in front of everyone again?” Cain’s eyes remained dark, unreadable. Calm. Almost bored. He said nothing, letting the words hang like smoke in the air. Aira watched silently, her posture impeccable, her eyes studying Cain’s every move. No words. Just attention, sharp and discerning, radiating authority. Kane advanced first. His movements were aggressive, precise, honed from years of training in underground rings and boardroom brawls. “Let’s see if the live-in son-in-law is as worthless as everyone claims!” he taunted. His voice rang with overconfidence, echoing across the polished arena. Cain shifted his weight, fluid, effortless, like water flowing around a rock. “You’ve trained hard,” he said