The New Generation
pyro- okies, this chapter is gonna be a really big turning point in the fic cuz right after this they- ah, never mind. Let's just say it's really important! It'll answer a few questions too...
Ding dong! No-prize to Nightswift!
==================================
Bradley held his launcher out in front of him, his eyes reflecting the fear he held with him...
'Now that I think about it... This is my first real battle...'
"Beybladers, ready!"
'I haven't won any match without Altiel's help... '
"3..."
'So now, without him by my side...'
"2..."
'I stand before my greatest trial so far...'
"1..."
'Cool.'
"LET IT RIIIIIPPPP!!!"
Bradley tugged on the end of his launcher's rip cord with all the strength he could muster from his arms, losing himself and his doubts; his apprehension, in the heat of battle. His white and blue blade sped outwards, roaring and cutting through the tense air. It skated across the metal dish with surprising grace and kept a wide gap between it and Devon's own scarlet and jet black beyblade.
Devon chortled and took a quick step backward, giving himself a better view of the match.
"C'mon, Bradley! Stop playing games with me and attack!" He shouted, taunting the unusually concentrated beyblader who stood a few meters away from him.
But the blonde teenager's focus shut out Devon's comment and remained only alert, hunting for the opportunity; the window in time when he would do best to strike. He would have to take a leaf out of Evan's book if he truly wanted to win this battle because now, with his raw power, in the form of Altiel, recovering, he needed strategy more than anything else.
His beyblade zipped away, barely escaping unscathed as Devon's own blade came down on it in vicious swipes. Then it came back up again, turning sharply, and made a pass once more. Bradley's beyblade reflexively swooped over to the side but this time, collided partially with the attack ring of Devon's blade, knocking it slightly away.
Bradley gritted his teeth and felt sweat drip down his left cheek. He wiped it off hastily, his eyes remaining glued to the battle and muttered under his breath,
"If I don't find an opening soon, I'll be done for..."
The entire match, as Evan had suggested to him, was to be like a sort of cat and mouse struggle. If he managed to delay the seemingly inevitable long enough, Devon might commit a careless mistake and fall open, easy prey even for a beyblade without any bitbeast backing it up. But if Bradley made one stupid move of his own and let Devon get a direct hit on his blade, Bradley would be unable to flee with enough spin force to last the rest of the match and Reltion would finish the match...
Then suddenly, as Bradley was contemplating his next move, Devon's blade descended towards its opponent, cutting through the dish in large, scything arcs which seemed to have been done to confuse Bradley as to where the next attack would come from. The surprise maneuver had its desired effect and the blade that housed Reltion scored another quick blow on the side of the frantically evading beyblade of Bradley. The blonde orphan's blade wobbled precariously before sliding to the opposite side of the arena; a futile attempt to escape the calculated wrath of his highly skilled foe.
'Aw, c'mon mate... That was a pretty stupid move.' The black-haired boy thought, shaking his head at the imprudent maneuver of his opponent.
So naturally, Devon found this to be another easily read tactic and sent his own beyblade flying towards Bradley's in the same exaggerated movements it had just previously done...
"To hell with this strategy! Counterattack, now!" Bradley suddenly yelled at the top of his lungs, stunning both Devon and the boy's beyblade for but a few crucial moments...
Bradley's white and blue beyblade suddenly cut for Devon's, gliding over the dish like a falcon that had spotted its prey, slamming into the vulnerable black blade that had stopped in mid-attack. Its balance shattered, the obsidian-colored top was promptly knocked into the air, reflecting the bright lights that shone upon it, before crashing down and spinning feebly at the edge of the dish.
Adrenaline flooded Bradley, his hope renewed, as he flung his arm back and shouted at his beyblade,
"Now, knock him out of the arena!"
"NO! Reltion, take him down! Liger Storm!" Devon screamed out, summoning his bitbeast into the arena.
The breath-taking form of the crimson lion that emerged from the center of Devon's beyblade held Bradley's breath for but a moment, as the orphan stared at the majestic splendor of his opponent's bitbeast. But all his awe disappeared just as quickly as the lion roared heaven-ward, calling for red lightning bolts, streaked with black tendrils of dark energy, that burned the air with their rancid, electrical stench. These sky-sent weapons fell towards Bradley's beyblade, which presently executed evasive techniques to dodge their assault, and obliterated sections of the dish in blinding flashes of light.
"C'mon, just a bit more to Devon's blade!"
"Reltion! Stop him NOW!"
Then, just before Bradley's white and blue streak of a beyblade was able to connect attack ring with attack ring in a final attempt to snatch victory from Devon's hands, one bolt collided directly with the orphan's beyblade, shattering all but its bit chip into shards of metal and melted plastic.
Bradley collapsed to his knees in astonishment as his only beyblade fell apart before him as if in slow motion, completely destroyed by that final streak of lightning. The harsh clang of the falling metallic bits of his cracked weight disc snapped him back to the painful reality of losing, bringing the unpleasant truth right before his watery eyes. He had came so close; so close to defeating Devon when triumph was stolen from his grasp...
"I lost..."
Devon punched the air in celebration, his beyblade responding to his thoughts and zooming out of the dish into his other, waiting hand.
"Yeah! I won! Jesus Christ, that was a close one." He yelled victoriously, elated by the defeat of the one challenger who had just enough skills to contend with him.
"Brad."
"Yo, Bradley!"
"Brad."
"HEY! GET UP, STUPID!" Colin kicked the still stunned Bradley in the side, earning a yelp of combined surprise and pain from the defeated beyblader. The adolescent boy shook his head in recognition of defeat and raised his head a notch, meeting the stern, almost emotionless chestnut eyes of Evan and the similarly brown ones of Colin Drake.
"You came within reach of victory. I apologize for the failure of my ill-designed strategy." Evan, despite his tremendously large vocabulary, said in a robotic way, as if trying hard to find the words to console Bradley.
Bradley shook his blonde head one more time and shrugged.
"Well, I can't expect to win all the time." He muttered and got up slowly, wiping some dust that had accumulated on his plain white shirt away simultaneously.
Colin rolled his eyes but helped his one-time rival get up anyway.
"Guess we all learned that now, huh? Hurry up, numbskulls, the awarding starts soon."
The brown-haired boy said rather impatiently. Bradley laughed mirthfully, his old self returned, and jabbed Colin in the ribs.
"Ow! What was that for, loser?"
"For kicking me and being impatient."
"Jeez..."
==================================
Bradley shifted uncomfortably as he stood on the second-placer spot, casting a nervous glance down at Colin and Evan, who shared the third place position, much to the former's discontent.
"Can you move a little, Evan? It's cramped enough standing down here..." Colin remarked, throwing a spiteful gaze at the considerably higher platform for the first placer, Devon. Evan edged a bit more and his brown-haired companion thanked him absentmindedly, his eyes still affixed on the elusive first place spot.
"Hey, guys, pipe down! The judges, referees, or whatever they are, are coming already!" Bradley hissed and the two beybladers standing just slightly lower than him fidgeted apprehensively.
"Hmm... Good point. I notice the gold medal is larger than the silver one. Do you, Bradley?" Devon commented snidely but Bradley paid no attention to him, his eyes focused on the cheerful-looking man walking beside the people carrying the awards...
"In the name of the Father..." Bradley muttered, receiving two questioning looks from both Evan and Colin.
"AAAAaaand now, the moment of truth has arrived! The awarding of our equally fantastic winners!"
Colin rolled his eyes again.
"That's right, Joe, my man! And to make it even sweeter for these champions, we have on heck of a cool guy here to present the medals!"
"So everybody in the house, put your hands together for the one, the only, the invincible former World Champion Tyson Kinomiya of the Bladebreakers!"
A storm of applause greeted the world-famous Bladebreaker, who, after defeating the Demolition Boys and Team Psykick, had achieved an almost deity-like status in the world of beyblading. Of course, his fame was only matched by his equally renowned teammates, who, like him, were probably somewhere else enjoying their good fortune.
Tyson grinned widely and scratched the area under his nose habitually before waving at the fanatical crowd inside the dome. Aside from becoming a worldwide sensation and idol to many youngsters, including quite a large amount of the kids who had gathered for this particular tournament, he, for some strange and mysterious reason, had turned into a veritable girl magnet, much to the demise of the now hospitalized Kai. The Russian himself, laughing hysterically in a most uncharacteristic display of amusement, had swore he would drink a jug full of mud and snow if Tyson, who had brought up the subject, had even one girl approach him.
Back at the podium, Bradley's mouth hung open, loosely swaying with the slight breeze inside the arena, gaping at his number one idol of all time. He blinked stupidly for a couple of moments before gathering his composure again and standing as stiffly as possible, trying to make himself less noticeable to Tyson. And probably appear less stupid as well.
The blue-haired beyblader walked up to Evan, whose face remained as immovable as stone, and raised one of his eyebrows, staring appraisingly at the Asian, wondering what to think of the stoical boy. He shook his head, grinned and hung the bronze medal around Evan's neck.
"You can't blade properly if you act like that!" He commented and Evan shrugged.
"Same to you then."
He replied casually and Tyson laughed before proceeding to a remarkably composed Colin.
"You have a strong bitbeast, kid. Maybe we could go head to head one time and see who has the better dragon!" Tyson stated cheerfully, hanging the second bronze medal across Colin's neck.
The brown-haired boy rolled his eyes impudently and shrugged as Tyson passed him and moved on to Bradley, who was still acting like some weird statue. "Why not? It would be cool to win again."
The Bladebreaker finally walked up to the visibly nervous Bradley and held out his right as the left one contained the silver medal and couldn't be used. The blonde orphan cracked a weak smile, sweat dripping down his face and took Tyson's extended hand, shaking it with his own.
"You're really good for a kid who battled without his bitbeast."
"Thanks!" Bradley scratched the back of his head, and then added, "I sorta blew it at the end though. Now my beyblade's totally busted."
"Hey man, no worries!" Tyson reached into his pocket and held out a silvery blue and red beyblade. "This used to be my blade but you can have it. After all, I don't really need it much anymore!"
Tyson laughed in a hollow way, thinking of what would happen to him in the future, as he had no more beyblading to look forward to. Bradley's emerald eyes widened and he slowly reached out for the beyblade that once housed the legendary Dragoon, his fingers running carefully down its attack ring and eventually wrapping themselves around it. He stared down at the shiny beyblade for a moment, before looking back up at the former World Champion and stammering his gratefulness.
"Wow... I mean, thanks a lot! This is so cool!"
"Like I said, no worries! If I ever need a blade I'll just get a new one anyway." Tyson laughed again. "Nice part about being really famous and rich and all that crap..."
Tyson stared wistfully at the ceiling for a while, reminiscing his past as a nobody, before grinning and scratching the underside of his nose once more.
"Congratulations again! I know you're going to go far."
"...Great, now I'm embarrassed and everything..."
==================================
A few minutes later, Mr. Dickinson walked up to the four somewhat successful adolescents and clapped in approval.
"Now, I must say that was a truly amazing display of your individual talents!" He commented, sincerely praising the four young men.
Colin rolled his eyes one more time and took a step forward, folding his arms across his chest.
"Yeah, that's great and all but aside from these medals, what's in it for us?" He asked and Bradley, who had forgotten the real reason behind his joining the competition in the first place, coughed in surprise, remembering what was going to happen... Evan too, appeared to have realized the reward that awaited them.
"Why, Master Colin, I'm glad you asked just that! You see, you four are going to go professional as a team. Of course, I will be the one sponsoring your efforts!" He replied.
Without warning, Devon, who had been leaning against the wall of the dimly lit corridor they were standing in, laughed condescendingly before standing straight up and raising one of his eyebrows.
"You mean, you three. You see, I already am professional. I happen to be part of the team representing Australia in the World Championships. Hey, mates, over here!" The tall black-haired boy remarked, as if entertained by his tree competitors' bewilderment at this development.
The brunette girl Bradley had overhead talking with Devon before walked up to where the tournament champion was standing, staring at her feet in a depressed sort of way. Along with her came two of the tallest guys the blonde orphan had ever laid eyes on, striding confidently up to the spot where their comrades were.
"This is my team, Wild Pack. I do hope I haven't disappointed you guys." Devon stated in a sarcastic way before jerking his head in the general direction of the dome's exit and beginning to walk away arrogantly, his troop of beybladers following like obedient dogs.
Colin shouted a few vulgar words back at the triumphant Devon and swore a bit more.
"Arrogant bastard. Who does he think he is?" At this, Evan coughed loudly.
Mr. Dickinson shook his head and sighed in regret before walking along the same hallway Devon had just taken. He tapped his cane impatiently and turned his head, facing the three remaining winners.
"What are you waiting for? It is considerably harder entering a team of three members into the World Championships..." He said and the trio of surprised beybladers immediately scurried off to where he was.
Bradley grinned and clutched his new beyblade in his hand. He stared at Colin, who was debating angrily with Evan, who obviously had the upper hand, thanks to his confusing usage of words and deep intelligence. Even in losing he had found something worth celebrating about.
For at long last, he had found a family.
==================================
End of Chapter and of Part I: The Blue Knight Tournament
Next Chapter: As they wait for their plane to finish its stop over and continue its journey for Australia, Bradley's wallet is stolen and he ends up chasing the thief all around the airport! This marks the beginning of the real story and the international tournaments! Part II: The Australian Tournament!
pyro- okies, this chapter is gonna be a really big turning point in the fic cuz right after this they- ah, never mind. Let's just say it's really important! It'll answer a few questions too...
Ding dong! No-prize to Nightswift!
==================================
Bradley held his launcher out in front of him, his eyes reflecting the fear he held with him...
'Now that I think about it... This is my first real battle...'
"Beybladers, ready!"
'I haven't won any match without Altiel's help... '
"3..."
'So now, without him by my side...'
"2..."
'I stand before my greatest trial so far...'
"1..."
'Cool.'
"LET IT RIIIIIPPPP!!!"
Bradley tugged on the end of his launcher's rip cord with all the strength he could muster from his arms, losing himself and his doubts; his apprehension, in the heat of battle. His white and blue blade sped outwards, roaring and cutting through the tense air. It skated across the metal dish with surprising grace and kept a wide gap between it and Devon's own scarlet and jet black beyblade.
Devon chortled and took a quick step backward, giving himself a better view of the match.
"C'mon, Bradley! Stop playing games with me and attack!" He shouted, taunting the unusually concentrated beyblader who stood a few meters away from him.
But the blonde teenager's focus shut out Devon's comment and remained only alert, hunting for the opportunity; the window in time when he would do best to strike. He would have to take a leaf out of Evan's book if he truly wanted to win this battle because now, with his raw power, in the form of Altiel, recovering, he needed strategy more than anything else.
His beyblade zipped away, barely escaping unscathed as Devon's own blade came down on it in vicious swipes. Then it came back up again, turning sharply, and made a pass once more. Bradley's beyblade reflexively swooped over to the side but this time, collided partially with the attack ring of Devon's blade, knocking it slightly away.
Bradley gritted his teeth and felt sweat drip down his left cheek. He wiped it off hastily, his eyes remaining glued to the battle and muttered under his breath,
"If I don't find an opening soon, I'll be done for..."
The entire match, as Evan had suggested to him, was to be like a sort of cat and mouse struggle. If he managed to delay the seemingly inevitable long enough, Devon might commit a careless mistake and fall open, easy prey even for a beyblade without any bitbeast backing it up. But if Bradley made one stupid move of his own and let Devon get a direct hit on his blade, Bradley would be unable to flee with enough spin force to last the rest of the match and Reltion would finish the match...
Then suddenly, as Bradley was contemplating his next move, Devon's blade descended towards its opponent, cutting through the dish in large, scything arcs which seemed to have been done to confuse Bradley as to where the next attack would come from. The surprise maneuver had its desired effect and the blade that housed Reltion scored another quick blow on the side of the frantically evading beyblade of Bradley. The blonde orphan's blade wobbled precariously before sliding to the opposite side of the arena; a futile attempt to escape the calculated wrath of his highly skilled foe.
'Aw, c'mon mate... That was a pretty stupid move.' The black-haired boy thought, shaking his head at the imprudent maneuver of his opponent.
So naturally, Devon found this to be another easily read tactic and sent his own beyblade flying towards Bradley's in the same exaggerated movements it had just previously done...
"To hell with this strategy! Counterattack, now!" Bradley suddenly yelled at the top of his lungs, stunning both Devon and the boy's beyblade for but a few crucial moments...
Bradley's white and blue beyblade suddenly cut for Devon's, gliding over the dish like a falcon that had spotted its prey, slamming into the vulnerable black blade that had stopped in mid-attack. Its balance shattered, the obsidian-colored top was promptly knocked into the air, reflecting the bright lights that shone upon it, before crashing down and spinning feebly at the edge of the dish.
Adrenaline flooded Bradley, his hope renewed, as he flung his arm back and shouted at his beyblade,
"Now, knock him out of the arena!"
"NO! Reltion, take him down! Liger Storm!" Devon screamed out, summoning his bitbeast into the arena.
The breath-taking form of the crimson lion that emerged from the center of Devon's beyblade held Bradley's breath for but a moment, as the orphan stared at the majestic splendor of his opponent's bitbeast. But all his awe disappeared just as quickly as the lion roared heaven-ward, calling for red lightning bolts, streaked with black tendrils of dark energy, that burned the air with their rancid, electrical stench. These sky-sent weapons fell towards Bradley's beyblade, which presently executed evasive techniques to dodge their assault, and obliterated sections of the dish in blinding flashes of light.
"C'mon, just a bit more to Devon's blade!"
"Reltion! Stop him NOW!"
Then, just before Bradley's white and blue streak of a beyblade was able to connect attack ring with attack ring in a final attempt to snatch victory from Devon's hands, one bolt collided directly with the orphan's beyblade, shattering all but its bit chip into shards of metal and melted plastic.
Bradley collapsed to his knees in astonishment as his only beyblade fell apart before him as if in slow motion, completely destroyed by that final streak of lightning. The harsh clang of the falling metallic bits of his cracked weight disc snapped him back to the painful reality of losing, bringing the unpleasant truth right before his watery eyes. He had came so close; so close to defeating Devon when triumph was stolen from his grasp...
"I lost..."
Devon punched the air in celebration, his beyblade responding to his thoughts and zooming out of the dish into his other, waiting hand.
"Yeah! I won! Jesus Christ, that was a close one." He yelled victoriously, elated by the defeat of the one challenger who had just enough skills to contend with him.
"Brad."
"Yo, Bradley!"
"Brad."
"HEY! GET UP, STUPID!" Colin kicked the still stunned Bradley in the side, earning a yelp of combined surprise and pain from the defeated beyblader. The adolescent boy shook his head in recognition of defeat and raised his head a notch, meeting the stern, almost emotionless chestnut eyes of Evan and the similarly brown ones of Colin Drake.
"You came within reach of victory. I apologize for the failure of my ill-designed strategy." Evan, despite his tremendously large vocabulary, said in a robotic way, as if trying hard to find the words to console Bradley.
Bradley shook his blonde head one more time and shrugged.
"Well, I can't expect to win all the time." He muttered and got up slowly, wiping some dust that had accumulated on his plain white shirt away simultaneously.
Colin rolled his eyes but helped his one-time rival get up anyway.
"Guess we all learned that now, huh? Hurry up, numbskulls, the awarding starts soon."
The brown-haired boy said rather impatiently. Bradley laughed mirthfully, his old self returned, and jabbed Colin in the ribs.
"Ow! What was that for, loser?"
"For kicking me and being impatient."
"Jeez..."
==================================
Bradley shifted uncomfortably as he stood on the second-placer spot, casting a nervous glance down at Colin and Evan, who shared the third place position, much to the former's discontent.
"Can you move a little, Evan? It's cramped enough standing down here..." Colin remarked, throwing a spiteful gaze at the considerably higher platform for the first placer, Devon. Evan edged a bit more and his brown-haired companion thanked him absentmindedly, his eyes still affixed on the elusive first place spot.
"Hey, guys, pipe down! The judges, referees, or whatever they are, are coming already!" Bradley hissed and the two beybladers standing just slightly lower than him fidgeted apprehensively.
"Hmm... Good point. I notice the gold medal is larger than the silver one. Do you, Bradley?" Devon commented snidely but Bradley paid no attention to him, his eyes focused on the cheerful-looking man walking beside the people carrying the awards...
"In the name of the Father..." Bradley muttered, receiving two questioning looks from both Evan and Colin.
"AAAAaaand now, the moment of truth has arrived! The awarding of our equally fantastic winners!"
Colin rolled his eyes again.
"That's right, Joe, my man! And to make it even sweeter for these champions, we have on heck of a cool guy here to present the medals!"
"So everybody in the house, put your hands together for the one, the only, the invincible former World Champion Tyson Kinomiya of the Bladebreakers!"
A storm of applause greeted the world-famous Bladebreaker, who, after defeating the Demolition Boys and Team Psykick, had achieved an almost deity-like status in the world of beyblading. Of course, his fame was only matched by his equally renowned teammates, who, like him, were probably somewhere else enjoying their good fortune.
Tyson grinned widely and scratched the area under his nose habitually before waving at the fanatical crowd inside the dome. Aside from becoming a worldwide sensation and idol to many youngsters, including quite a large amount of the kids who had gathered for this particular tournament, he, for some strange and mysterious reason, had turned into a veritable girl magnet, much to the demise of the now hospitalized Kai. The Russian himself, laughing hysterically in a most uncharacteristic display of amusement, had swore he would drink a jug full of mud and snow if Tyson, who had brought up the subject, had even one girl approach him.
Back at the podium, Bradley's mouth hung open, loosely swaying with the slight breeze inside the arena, gaping at his number one idol of all time. He blinked stupidly for a couple of moments before gathering his composure again and standing as stiffly as possible, trying to make himself less noticeable to Tyson. And probably appear less stupid as well.
The blue-haired beyblader walked up to Evan, whose face remained as immovable as stone, and raised one of his eyebrows, staring appraisingly at the Asian, wondering what to think of the stoical boy. He shook his head, grinned and hung the bronze medal around Evan's neck.
"You can't blade properly if you act like that!" He commented and Evan shrugged.
"Same to you then."
He replied casually and Tyson laughed before proceeding to a remarkably composed Colin.
"You have a strong bitbeast, kid. Maybe we could go head to head one time and see who has the better dragon!" Tyson stated cheerfully, hanging the second bronze medal across Colin's neck.
The brown-haired boy rolled his eyes impudently and shrugged as Tyson passed him and moved on to Bradley, who was still acting like some weird statue. "Why not? It would be cool to win again."
The Bladebreaker finally walked up to the visibly nervous Bradley and held out his right as the left one contained the silver medal and couldn't be used. The blonde orphan cracked a weak smile, sweat dripping down his face and took Tyson's extended hand, shaking it with his own.
"You're really good for a kid who battled without his bitbeast."
"Thanks!" Bradley scratched the back of his head, and then added, "I sorta blew it at the end though. Now my beyblade's totally busted."
"Hey man, no worries!" Tyson reached into his pocket and held out a silvery blue and red beyblade. "This used to be my blade but you can have it. After all, I don't really need it much anymore!"
Tyson laughed in a hollow way, thinking of what would happen to him in the future, as he had no more beyblading to look forward to. Bradley's emerald eyes widened and he slowly reached out for the beyblade that once housed the legendary Dragoon, his fingers running carefully down its attack ring and eventually wrapping themselves around it. He stared down at the shiny beyblade for a moment, before looking back up at the former World Champion and stammering his gratefulness.
"Wow... I mean, thanks a lot! This is so cool!"
"Like I said, no worries! If I ever need a blade I'll just get a new one anyway." Tyson laughed again. "Nice part about being really famous and rich and all that crap..."
Tyson stared wistfully at the ceiling for a while, reminiscing his past as a nobody, before grinning and scratching the underside of his nose once more.
"Congratulations again! I know you're going to go far."
"...Great, now I'm embarrassed and everything..."
==================================
A few minutes later, Mr. Dickinson walked up to the four somewhat successful adolescents and clapped in approval.
"Now, I must say that was a truly amazing display of your individual talents!" He commented, sincerely praising the four young men.
Colin rolled his eyes one more time and took a step forward, folding his arms across his chest.
"Yeah, that's great and all but aside from these medals, what's in it for us?" He asked and Bradley, who had forgotten the real reason behind his joining the competition in the first place, coughed in surprise, remembering what was going to happen... Evan too, appeared to have realized the reward that awaited them.
"Why, Master Colin, I'm glad you asked just that! You see, you four are going to go professional as a team. Of course, I will be the one sponsoring your efforts!" He replied.
Without warning, Devon, who had been leaning against the wall of the dimly lit corridor they were standing in, laughed condescendingly before standing straight up and raising one of his eyebrows.
"You mean, you three. You see, I already am professional. I happen to be part of the team representing Australia in the World Championships. Hey, mates, over here!" The tall black-haired boy remarked, as if entertained by his tree competitors' bewilderment at this development.
The brunette girl Bradley had overhead talking with Devon before walked up to where the tournament champion was standing, staring at her feet in a depressed sort of way. Along with her came two of the tallest guys the blonde orphan had ever laid eyes on, striding confidently up to the spot where their comrades were.
"This is my team, Wild Pack. I do hope I haven't disappointed you guys." Devon stated in a sarcastic way before jerking his head in the general direction of the dome's exit and beginning to walk away arrogantly, his troop of beybladers following like obedient dogs.
Colin shouted a few vulgar words back at the triumphant Devon and swore a bit more.
"Arrogant bastard. Who does he think he is?" At this, Evan coughed loudly.
Mr. Dickinson shook his head and sighed in regret before walking along the same hallway Devon had just taken. He tapped his cane impatiently and turned his head, facing the three remaining winners.
"What are you waiting for? It is considerably harder entering a team of three members into the World Championships..." He said and the trio of surprised beybladers immediately scurried off to where he was.
Bradley grinned and clutched his new beyblade in his hand. He stared at Colin, who was debating angrily with Evan, who obviously had the upper hand, thanks to his confusing usage of words and deep intelligence. Even in losing he had found something worth celebrating about.
For at long last, he had found a family.
==================================
End of Chapter and of Part I: The Blue Knight Tournament
Next Chapter: As they wait for their plane to finish its stop over and continue its journey for Australia, Bradley's wallet is stolen and he ends up chasing the thief all around the airport! This marks the beginning of the real story and the international tournaments! Part II: The Australian Tournament!
