Youri accepted Gloria's proposal and started working for her as security at Lux. The club was loud and always packed, a constant surge of bodies, music and tension. Most nights he stood in the VIP section alongside three other guards.
Mark was the oldest of them, the kind of man who commanded respect without ever raising his voice. He was in his mid-forties, an ex-wanderer with a thick, muscular build — bald and broad-shouldered, with sharp green eyes and a permanently stern expression. He was the head of security at Lux. There was something intimidating about him, something almost predatory. The other two were Leo and Peter. Leo was in his late twenties, an underground fighter with wild, fiery-red hair and brown eyes that never stopped scanning the room. He carried himself loosely, almost lazily, but there was a coiled aggression beneath it. Peter usually stood to his left. He was a little older, in his mid-thirties, an ex-Terrian soldier, tall and powerfully built, with short black hair and steady brown eyes, quieter than the others and disciplined. Every movement he made was efficient and precise.
When Youri joined them, all three of them were visibly confused. He didn't look like a guard. He was thin and pale, with none of the obvious muscle that marked the rest of the team; he looked far more like someone who would be swallowed by a crowd than someone meant to control one. So Mark stepped forward first and held out his hand. When Youri took it, Mark tightened his grip without warning and squeezed with all his strength — a silent test. Youri didn't flinch. He didn't grimace. He didn't even tense. Mark let go slowly and stared at him in disbelief. Physical pain was no longer any obstacle for Youri. Leo and Peter tried the same trick in turn and were just as surprised; there was no complaint, no reaction, only a calm, steady stare. And that was enough. Without another word, they welcomed him onto the team.
During his first week, they taught him the basics — self-defense, crowd control, and how to avoid conflict he didn't need. He learned fast, faster than any of them expected, taking in every instruction and correcting his mistakes almost as soon as he made them. But learning and reality were not the same thing. Whenever a truly dangerous troublemaker showed up, Youri was almost always overpowered. The others had to step in and finish the job. Technique helped, but it wasn't enough.
Then came the night that changed everything. One of Malkom's goons got drunk and went on a rampage, spraying the guests with alcohol and smashing bottles. Youri was nearby when it started, so he caught the man by the arm and began walking him out. But three of the man's friends were waiting in the alley, and the moment Youri shoved him through the door, they jumped him. Fists. Boots. Concrete. They overwhelmed him quickly and beat him into the cold ground until blood pooled beneath his face. By the time they scattered, he was barely moving.
Leo stepped outside just in time to see him lying there. "Shit," he muttered, and rushed to his side. "What happened?"
Youri spat blood onto the pavement and sat up slowly, leaning against the wall.
"Wait here," Leo said. "I'll get the first aid kit."
When he came back, he crouched beside Youri and patched him up carefully. "Damn," he said quietly. "They really did a number on you."
Youri didn't answer. Leo sighed and sat down beside him on the cold ground. "You need to learn how to fight, man. This place is full of brawlers. If you can't hit back, they'll keep doing this to you."
Youri let out a slow breath. "I'm used to it," he said. "Pain isn't anything new to me."
Leo finished the last bandage and leaned back against the wall. After a moment he spoke again. "Look. I think I can help you."
Youri turned to him, puzzled.
"I can teach you," Leo went on. "And you should come with me to the underground fights."
Youri frowned. "Underground… fights?"
"The best way to learn is experience," Leo said. "Sure, you'll get beaten up sometimes, but that's how you grow. You said it yourself — you're used to pain. So use it. The more you fight, the more you learn. That's how I got where I am." He smirked a little. "Pays pretty well, too."
Youri looked up at the night sky as old memories surfaced unbidden. Things might have gone differently — maybe more safely — if he had known how to protect himself. Slowly, he lowered his eyes again. "Alright," he said quietly. "Let's get stronger."
A week later, Leo came to get him, and they traveled out to the edge of Vegas, where the fights were held in a huge tunnel buried beneath the city. Even before they went in, the noise was unmistakable — roaring voices, metallic echoes, raw chaos — and Youri had never been anywhere like it. Inside, the tunnel opened into a vast underground hall packed with people, some standing and some sitting on makeshift platforms, all of them crowded around a circular cage in the center beneath a massive spotlight that flooded the ring with harsh white light. Two fighters were already inside it. As Youri watched, one landed a brutal punch that dropped the other flat, and the winner raised his arms and basked in the roar of the crowd.
Leo led him past the ring and through a door behind it into the changing room, a huge space lined with lockers, benches down its middle and three showers along the far wall. Bruised and bloody fighters came and went, getting ready or recovering. On one of the benches sat a short man counting money.
"Toney!" Leo called. "How you been?"
Toney looked up. He wore a thick jacket over a tracksuit, with a cap pulled low over his head and a cigar clenched between his teeth. "Oh," he said dryly. "It's you."
Leo laughed and sat down beside him. "Missed you too." Then he pointed at Youri. "Brought you a new guy. He wants to fight tonight. Can you find him an opponent?"
Toney studied Youri carefully. "Hm. Where'd you find this one? Looks like he can barely stand."
"Come on, Toney," Leo said. "Don't be rude."
Toney stood and stuffed the money into his pocket, looked Youri over once more and nodded. "Alright. But he'll fight Boris."
Leo's eyes went wide. "What? No — come on, Toney, he's new. Boris will kill him."
"If he wants to fight tonight," Toney said flatly, "Boris is the only one without an opponent." He turned to Youri. "So? You want to fight or not, kid?"
Youri crossed his arms. "When does it start?"
Toney smiled. "Buckle up," he said. "You're next."