The crowd gasped.

Not giving his opponent any room to breathe, Drake immediately surged forward, preparing to crash down with his full weight and pin Roger beneath him.

However, Roger’s reactions were equally quick.

He rolled to the side at the last second, narrowly avoiding the body slam. The instant Drake’s momentum carried him forward, Roger lashed out with a sweeping kick aimed at taking his legs out from under him.

A grin appeared on Roger’s face.

He had been waiting for this exact moment.

Unfortunately for him, Drake had been waiting as well.

The apparent body slam had merely been a feint.

Before Roger’s sweeping kick could connect, Drake abruptly shifted his weight and withdrew, causing the kick to slice harmlessly through empty air.

Roger’s expression changed.

Realizing something was wrong, he tried to retract his leg.

Too late.

Drake lunged forward.

His hands shot out and seized Roger’s exposed ankle.

Then, moving with the precision of a seasoned veteran, Drake twisted his body and dragged the leg into a grappling hold, locking it tightly between his arms and torso.

Roger immediately struggled to pull away, but Drake’s grip was like iron.

In less than ten seconds after the opening bell, the momentum of the fight had completely shifted.

The crowd’s cheers stopped as they stared at the former champion controlling the arena floor with frightening efficiency.

For the first time that day, many of them began to wonder if the old champion truly had returned for a reason.

"One... Two..."

The referee’s voice echoed throughout the arena as he began the count.

Meanwhile, Roger’s mind was in complete disarray.

He couldn’t understand how things had gone so wrong so quickly.

This wasn’t how the fight was supposed to unfold.

In his mind, he had already envisioned the entire match from beginning to end. He was supposed to overwhelm Drake from the start, dominate him in front of the crowd, and finish the former champion with a spectacular display of strength and skill. Every move had been carefully planned to maximize attention and leave a lasting impression on the wealthy patrons watching from the VIP section.

Yet instead of standing triumphantly over Drake, he was the one trapped on the ground.

The reality before him was completely different from the fantasy he had built in his head.

Roger gritted his teeth.

The underground arena was never merely about winning fights.

If it were only about victory, many of the competitors would have chosen safer ways to earn money. No sane person would willingly step into a ring where broken bones, permanent injuries, and even death were real possibilities without expecting something greater in return.

Fame.

Money.

Opportunity.

Those were the true prizes.

The spectators sitting in the VIP booths weren’t ordinary gamblers. Many of them were influential figures with wealth, power, and extensive connections. While some came purely for entertainment and gambling, others had a different purpose.

They came looking for talent.

A fighter who impressed them enough might receive sponsorship, financial backing, or protection. For many struggling fighters, being chosen by one of those wealthy patrons was the equivalent of having their entire future changed overnight.

Of course, such generosity rarely came without strings attached.

The sponsored fighters often became trusted subordinates, bodyguards, enforcers, or loyal hounds tasked with handling jobs their patrons preferred not to dirty their own hands with. 𝙛𝒓𝒆𝙚𝒘𝒆𝓫𝙣𝓸𝙫𝓮𝒍.𝒄𝒐𝓶

Everyone in the arena understood this unspoken rule.

That was why countless fighters risked their lives night after night.

That was why they endured broken ribs, shattered noses, and endless humiliation.

And Roger was no different.

He had entered this arena for the exact same reason.

He wanted to be noticed.

He wanted power, money, and a powerful backer who could elevate him beyond the life he currently lived.

That was why he had planned such a flashy opening.

That was why he wanted to humiliate Drake in the most spectacular fashion possible.

Yet now, as the referee continued counting and the crowd watched with growing surprise, Roger realized that instead of becoming the star of the show, he was rapidly becoming the punchline.

And that was something he absolutely refused to accept.

For Drake to put him in such a humiliating position less than ten seconds after the fight had begun was something Roger could hardly accept.

His face flushed red with anger and embarrassment.

This wasn’t how things were supposed to go.

He was supposed to be the one dominating the fight, not the one being controlled and pinned to the ground in front of hundreds of spectators.

Roger gritted his teeth and struggled furiously, refusing to let Drake maintain the advantage. He twisted his body, bucked his hips, and kicked repeatedly with his free leg, aiming at Drake’s head and torso in an attempt to force him to release the hold.

Unfortunately for him, Drake remained as steady as a mountain.

No matter how violently Roger thrashed around or how many kicks he threw, Drake refused to loosen his grip. His arms were locked firmly around Roger’s trapped leg, his hold as unyielding as iron chains.

The more Roger struggled, the more exhausted he became.

The more he fought to break free, the more obvious it became that Drake had no intention of letting him escape so easily.

But before the referee could even reach the count of three, Roger managed to drive his heel into Drake’s ribs several times. The strikes forced Drake to loosen his grip on Roger’s leg and torso, giving Roger the opening he desperately needed. Both fighters scrambled to their feet almost simultaneously, their determination refusing to let either stay down for long.

Fueled by anger and humiliation, Roger immediately charged forward, lowering his body as he attempted to tackle Drake head-on like a raging bull. However, his emotions had gotten the better of him. The sudden turn of events and the collapse of his original plan had shattered his composure. Instead of thinking clearly, he acted on pure rage.

Drake saw through it instantly.

As Roger lunged forward, Drake calmly caught him by the shoulder, effortlessly stopping the reckless charge. Before Roger could react, Drake drove a vicious knee into his stomach. The impact forced the air from Roger’s lungs and dropped him to his knees. But Drake wasn’t finished.

The moment Roger knelt before him, Drake followed up with a devastating uppercut. His fist connected cleanly with Roger’s jaw, snapping his head back and sending him crashing onto the canvas. Roger’s body hit the ground with a heavy thud, and he lost consciousness instantly.

Silence.

The entire arena fell deathly quiet.

For nearly ten seconds, not a single voice could be heard. The spectators stared at the ring in disbelief, struggling to process what they had just witnessed. Then, as if a spell had been broken, the arena erupted into a deafening cacophony of voices.

Shouts, curses, cheers, and gasps blended together into one overwhelming roar as the crowd exploded with excitement. No one had expected the fight to end so suddenly, let alone in such a one-sided and brutal fashion.

The spectators had expected a brutal clash, the kind of fight that would push both men to their limits and leave the audience on the edge of their seats. They wanted a battle that would make their blood boil with excitement, a fierce struggle that would drag on until one fighter could no longer stand. What they hadn’t expected was for the match to end so quickly that many of them failed to realize it was already over until the referee pointed it out.

"One... Two... Three... Roger is knocked out! The winner of this round is Drake!"

The referee’s voice echoed throughout the arena as he grabbed Drake’s wrist and raised it high into the air, officially declaring him the victor. At the same time, attendants began processing the payouts for those who had placed their bets on Drake.

Unfortunately for the vast majority of the crowd, there weren’t many winners to pay.

Almost everyone had bet on Roger. At only twenty-two years old, he was in the prime of his life, young, strong, energetic, and physically dominant. Compared to him, Drake was already in his mid-thirties and approaching his late thirties, an age many considered to be past a fighter’s peak. On paper, Roger seemed like the obvious choice.

Yet reality had delivered a harsh lesson.

Experience had crushed youth.

The upset left countless gamblers staring blankly at the ring, their faces filled with disbelief and regret as their money vanished before their eyes. In contrast, only a handful of people were celebrating. Barely more than a dozen bettors had placed their faith in Drake, and now they were reaping the rewards of their gamble.

Among those fortunate few were Ashley and Gideon.

While the rest of the arena drowned in disappointment and stunned silence, the pair sat comfortably in their seats, watching as their winnings multiplied several times over.

"Looks like we won that round rather easily," Gideon remarked with a satisfied smile. Without realizing it himself, the gaze he directed at Ashley carried a hint of affection and indulgence.