The air in the cavernous warehouse was thick with the scent of stale beer, sweat, and something acrid that burned the back of Elijah’s throat. A single, exposed bulb hung precariously over the center of the room, illuminating a makeshift boxing ring constructed from salvaged lumber and heavy-duty ropes. The crowd, a motley collection of gamblers, thrill-seekers, and hardened locals, pressed in around the ring, their faces a blur of anticipation and shadow.Elijah stood in his corner, his trainer’s hands wrapping his knuckles with practiced speed. The tape felt like a second skin, a comforting armor against the brutality he knew was coming. His opponent, a man known only as “The Wrecking Ball,” was a hulking mass of muscle, his scarred face a testament to countless past battles. The Wrecking Ball pounded his gloves together, the sound like a drumbeat of intimidation.“Remember the plan, Eli,” his trainer, a wiry man named Leo, whispered. “Don’t get tangled up with him. He’s all power.
Last Updated : 2025-09-18 Read more