Chương 27: Knockout
"I'm looking for Rio and Tim. They invited me here."
"For what?" he questioned, eyeing me skeptically. He was short, muscular, and had dark hair.
I shrugged. "I'm not sure either, but I'm looking to gain some fighting experience. So I thought, Why not?"
He seemed taken aback by my response. "Well, if you're not part of the club, you should probably leave. Training is about to begin. If you're interested in joining, you can talk to the club representative," he stated firmly.
I considered his words for a moment.
"Actually, I don't necessarily want to join. Just here to get some practice in," I replied, trying to sound casual.
Before he could respond, I decided to take matters into my own hands. Without waiting for his approval, I stepped onto the ring and began some shadow boxing.
"What do you think you're doing?" the guy asked, his tone stern.
I paused mid-punch, meeting his gaze head-on. "To be honest, I'm here to challenge this club. Rio and Tim bullied someone that I know, and I'm not about to let this fly."
He shook his head in disbelief. "I don't think we're talking about the same Rio and Tim. They would never."
Just as he finished speaking, the gym door swung open, and a few people carrying sports bags filed into the room.
The guy I had spoken with turned away and waved his hand, muttering, "Whatever. It's your choice. You'll be on the ground in seconds."
"What's your name?" I asked.
"None of your business," he retorted.
One of the ones who had just entered looked at me, standing on the ring, and then fixed his gaze on the rude guy, who just spoke with me.
"Mark! Who is this?", he said sharply.
Well... Mark was the name of the short guy then...
Mark shot me a glare before saying, "George, Hey! This guy has some problems with his brain," he gestured towards me, "I told him to get out of here, but he ignored me and jumped on the ring."
George's gaze shifted to me, his expression hardening as everyone in the gym began to pay attention. Two girls and about a dozen guys were preparing for training.
"Who the f*ck are you?" George demanded, his tone aggressive. "Ha?"
"I'm Graham," I replied firmly, meeting his gaze. "I came here because Tim and Rio told me to. I want to fight you guys. So get up here," I said, stretching my legs, ready for whatever came next.
Just as I spoke, Tim and Rio passed through the door of the gym, unsuspecting of anything.
"Speak of the devil," I muttered under my breath.
George glanced at them, then pointed at me, "Hey! Rio! Tim! Do you know this guy?"
Rio's eyes widened as he spotted me standing on the ring. "Oh, shit!" he exclaimed, turning to George. "Representative! I invited him to join the club."
George chuckled, shaking his head. "Well, obviously that is not the goal he came here with."
Rio looked between George and me, a pleading expression on his face. "Come on, Graham. Don't do this. I wanted you to consider joining the club, not to challenge the club."
"And why would I do that?" I retorted, crossing my arms. "I don't want to join a club of bullies."
George shot a glance at Rio, his expression unreadable.
"We didn't—" Tim interjected.
"Alright, alright. I know you didn't. But I don't think this Graham guy is the type to be convinced. Rio or Tim, I don't care who, warm up and get up on the ring."
I noticed Rio and Tim exchange nervous glances, but they complied, quickly changing and starting their warm-up routines. In the meantime, I continued with my shadowboxing and some kicks, trying to stay loose.
George seemed intrigued by my movements. "Where do you train? Are you aiming to go pro?" he asked, curiosity evident in his voice.
I smiled in response. "Oh, no! I just train at a local gym."
"Sure."
Soon after, Rio jumped into the ring wearing thin kickboxing gloves.
The other members gathered around the ring, excited for the match, some of them chanting Rio's name.
We both assumed our stances, preparing for the bout, and with a final signal from George, we launched into the fight.
I formed my hands as if I were gripping imaginary tennis balls, got my legs moving, and launched myself at him.
I dove under his swing and snapped myself into the tiger mindset. I was at the top of the food chain, the strongest and deadliest.
There was only one way to go: forward, toward the prey. All offense.
My terrific right crashed against Rio's chin.
I followed with the other hand, throwing an uppercut to his liver.
Rio managed to stagger back and steady himself, but his labored breathing betrayed him.
His legs wobbled like jello as he swayed from side to side.
"You can do it, Rio! Goddamnit!"
Next, I must press the advantage decisively. No holding back.
With his hands dropping lower than before, subconsciously aimed at defending his liver and chest, he left himself vulnerable. It was the perfect opening.
As he took a few steps forward, my feet exploded into action.
He walked right into my blazing roundhouse kick that rattled his skull.
The momentum carried him sideways. He started to fall until...
My other foot slammed into his rib cage.
Right leg, left leg.
His body fell to the ground with a wet, fleshy thud. His eyes closed.
Knockout.
"HOLY DUCK!" someone yelled.
The entire fight had taken less than five seconds; I paused and checked Rio's breathing.
He coughed a few times before he could breathe normally again.
Tim stepped onto the ring, clearly concerned for his friend, George followed him onto the mat.
"Hey, brother!" Tim exclaimed, slapping Rio's cheek lightly to rouse him.
Rio slowly opened his eyes. "I'm fine..." he strained, attempting to sit up.
"It's my turn. I'll get revenge for Rio," Tim declared, preparing to fight. But George, stepping forward, halted him with his palm.
"No, Tim. You don't stand a chance against this guy. Let me handle it," George insisted, his tone firm.
Addressing me directly, George continued, "Graham, was it? I'll fight you. And if I lose, you can be the representative of this club."
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