Bab 31: The First Fight
Jack stood in the hallway, the sound of the roaring crowd vibrating through the walls. His heart pounded in his chest, but it wasn't fear that made it race. It was anticipation, nerves, and pressure all at once. The international stage was nothing like the underground. The lights, the cameras, the expectations—it was all suffocating.
"You ready for this?" Derrick's voice broke through the noise. His coach stood beside him, arms crossed, his face calm but serious.
Jack clenched his fists, rolling his shoulders to loosen the tension. "As ready as I'll ever be."
Derrick narrowed his eyes, studying Jack closely. "This isn't like the fights you've had before. Viktor's a technical fighter, not some street brawler. You can't rely on brute strength alone."
"I know," Jack muttered. "I've been training for this."
"You've been training, but this fight is a different beast." Derrick's gaze hardened. "You need to control your emotions. Fight smart. Don't get dragged into his game."
Jack nodded, but inside, the weight of the upcoming match pressed down on him. Viktor "The Hammer" Ivanov was known for his precision and power—a former Eastern European champion, now fighting at the international level. For weeks, all Jack heard was how Viktor was going to crush him, how the underground scene hadn't prepared him for this caliber of competition.
The door to the arena creaked open, and Jack caught a glimpse of the bright lights spilling into the darkened hallway. His time was near.
Lena had wanted to be here, to support him, but Jack had insisted she stay home. He couldn't handle the added pressure of knowing she was watching. He needed to focus, to be entirely in the moment. Still, her voice echoed in his mind. Find balance. Don't let this consume you.
The moment his name was called, a cheer erupted from the crowd. Jack stepped into the arena, the bright lights momentarily blinding him. The energy in the air was electric, the arena buzzing with anticipation. Across the cage, Viktor stood, his hulking frame nearly motionless as he stared Jack down with cold, calculating eyes.
"Stay calm, stay focused," Derrick's voice repeated in Jack's head. He took one last breath before stepping into the cage, shutting out the noise, the lights, everything but the fight ahead of him.
The referee called them to the center, outlining the rules, but Jack barely heard him. His gaze locked on Viktor's eyes, studying him. This was no street fight. This was a chess match, and Jack had to play it right.
As soon as the bell rang, Viktor advanced with deliberate steps, testing Jack with a few quick jabs. Jack dodged, staying light on his feet, trying to read Viktor's rhythm. But the precision in Viktor's strikes became immediately clear. Every jab, every hook, had purpose. Viktor wasn't wasting energy.
Jack responded with a series of kicks, trying to create distance. He landed a solid kick to Viktor's side, but the man barely flinched. Viktor countered with a brutal hook to Jack's ribs, and Jack felt the wind get knocked out of him. He staggered back, trying to recover, but Viktor pressed forward relentlessly.
Stay calm. Focus.
Jack shook off the pain and closed the distance, throwing a powerful left hook that grazed Viktor's jaw. The crowd roared in response, and for a moment, Jack felt his confidence surge. He could do this.
But Viktor was unfazed. He ducked under Jack's next punch, landing a crushing uppercut to Jack's chin. Stars exploded in Jack's vision as he stumbled, his back hitting the cage.
Viktor didn't hesitate. He charged, pinning Jack against the fence with a barrage of body shots. Pain exploded through Jack's torso as each punch landed with precision. Jack's mind raced, his thoughts clouded by the pain.
Derrick's voice echoed through the chaos. "Fight smart! Get out of there!"
With a burst of adrenaline, Jack slipped out from under Viktor's assault, using his footwork to create space. He shook off the fog in his head and squared up again. This wasn't going to be a clean fight. Viktor was too sharp, too controlled.
You've got to fight dirty.
Jack took a deep breath and switched tactics. He closed the distance quickly, feinting a jab to bait Viktor into a counter. Viktor took the bait, swinging a heavy right hand, but Jack ducked under it, landing a knee to Viktor's midsection. Viktor grunted, doubling over slightly.
It was the opening Jack needed.
He surged forward, landing a vicious elbow to Viktor's temple. Viktor stumbled, his defense momentarily down. Jack pressed the advantage, throwing a combination of punches that rocked Viktor's head back. For the first time in the fight, Viktor was on the defensive.
The crowd's roar became deafening as Jack drove Viktor back against the cage. He could feel the momentum shifting. Viktor wasn't invincible.
But Viktor wasn't done yet. He rallied, blocking Jack's next strike and throwing a devastating leg kick that nearly took Jack off his feet. Jack winced, his leg throbbing in pain, but he couldn't let up. Not now.
They circled each other again, both fighters breathing heavily. Jack's muscles screamed in protest, his body battered from Viktor's brutal strikes, but he couldn't stop. He wouldn't.
The final round approached, and Jack knew he had to finish this. Viktor was a tank, absorbing punishment, but he was slowing down. Jack could see it in the way his movements had lost their precision, the way his guard wasn't as tight.
The bell rang, and they charged at each other one last time. Jack ducked under Viktor's punch and slammed him with a powerful uppercut. Viktor staggered, and Jack followed up with a knee to the body that dropped him to the mat.
Without hesitation, Jack pounced, raining down punches as the referee moved in. Viktor tried to cover up, but the onslaught was too much. The ref waved it off, signaling the end of the fight.
Jack collapsed to his knees, breathing hard, his body screaming in pain and exhaustion. The crowd roared around him, but all he could feel was the throbbing in his ribs, the ache in his legs, the bruises forming across his body.
But he had done it. He had won.
Derrick was the first to reach him, pulling him to his feet. "You did it, kid. You proved you belong here."
Jack nodded, but the victory felt hollow. He had won, but he had barely survived. His underground style wasn't enough. Viktor had exposed his weaknesses—his lack of technical discipline, his reliance on brute force.
As the medics checked on him, Jack's thoughts drifted back to Lena, to the promise he made to her. He had won the fight, but at what cost? His body was wrecked, and the weight of everything he had sacrificed loomed over him.
As he stood in the center of the ring, his arm raised in victory, Jack knew this was just the beginning. If he wanted to succeed in this league, he would need to evolve. To fight smarter, harder, and with more discipline than ever before.
The crowd's cheers echoed in his ears, but all Jack could hear was the voice in his head whispering: You're not ready yet.
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