As soon as Youri had shaken Toney's hand on it, Toney headed straight for the octagon to announce the match. Back in the locker room the noise of the crowd seeped through the concrete walls in a low, constant roar that made the air itself vibrate. Youri stood at an open locker, tightening the wraps around his hands, while Leo hesitated behind him.
"It's not too late to back out," Leo said quietly. "You don't know Boris. He doesn't just look like a monster — he is one. He'll slaughter you out there."
Youri tied off the last wrap, closed the locker, and turned around. "You said it yourself," he said calmly. "Experience is key." Without waiting for an answer, he walked to the door, where he paused and glanced back over his shoulder. "Oh — and this isn't the first monster I've faced." Then he was gone.
The noise hit him all at once as he stepped out into the hall. The crowd parted as he walked to the octagon, their shouting rising higher with every step. From inside the cage, Toney's voice boomed out over the microphone. "Here he is! The brave newbie who dares to face Boris the Monster!"
The crowd erupted. Youri stepped into the cage. The chain-link door slammed shut behind him, and the spotlight above poured down on him like a judgment, so bright it was almost blinding. He lowered his head and kept his breathing slow and steady.
"And now, gentlemen," Toney roared, "please welcome — Boris the Monster!"
The hall exploded as Boris appeared. He was massive — broad shoulders and thick arms, a body built like a living weapon. A jagged scar ran from his chin all the way up to his forehead and carved his face into something feral. He was bald, black-eyed and almost naked, in nothing but black shorts and worn shoes. He moved with a terrifying calm. As he stepped into the ring, he looked at Youri just once, just long enough to measure him. Then he turned and took his corner.
Toney looked from one to the other and grinned. "Alright, boys. Make it fun." Then he lowered the microphone and leaned toward Youri. "Try to last at least one round," he muttered. He straightened and raised the mic again. "Are you ready for the fight!?"
"Yes!" the crowd thundered back.
"Then let's get this fight started!"
The bell rang.
Boris moved first. He didn't rush — he stalked, each step shaking the floor of the cage as he closed the distance with his shoulders rolling and his fists hanging loose at his sides. Youri raised his guard just as Leo had taught him, shifting his feet and keeping his breath steady.
The first punch came like a truck. Boris's right hook slammed into his ribs with a crack that echoed through the cage. Pain exploded through his side, sharp and blinding. He was lifted clean off his feet and thrown into the fence. The crowd roared.
"Stay down!" someone screamed.
Youri slid to one knee, coughing — and then he forced himself back up. His vision was swimming, but his feet stayed planted.
Boris frowned and came in again, hammering at his body — left, right, elbow — each blow cracking into muscle and bone. Youri tried to block, tried to counter, and managed to land one short punch on Boris's jaw. It barely moved him. Boris grinned and drove a knee into his stomach. The air left Youri's lungs in a strangled gasp, and he dropped forward with his hands on the mat.
"End it! End it!" the crowd chanted.
Boris took him by the hair and hauled him upright. Youri's head was ringing and his whole body was screaming at him to quit. He didn't. He threw another punch, and then another. They were sloppy and weak, but they were real. And the sound of the crowd began to change. Some of the laughter faded, and some of the shouting stopped. Boris's grin disappeared.
Snarling, he slammed Youri into the cage again and again until the metal rattled violently. Blood ran down Youri's face and dripped onto the mat. And still Youri stayed on his feet.
"Why won't you fall?" Boris growled.
Youri spat blood at his feet.
With a roar, Boris drove an uppercut into him that snapped his head back, then followed it with a brutal hook that finally sent him crashing to the ground. Youri tried to rise. His arms trembled. His legs refused. Boris stepped forward, lifted his foot, and stamped down on his chest.
The bell rang, long and loud. Toney jumped up shouting into the microphone. "That's it! That's it! We're done!"
The crowd erupted, half cheering and half stunned. Boris raised his arms in victory, but the applause was nowhere near as loud as it should have been. Youri lay on the mat, barely conscious, his chest heaving, his body wrecked, bruised, bloodied and broken. But his eyes were still open. Still aware. Still alive.
Leo shoved past the guards and dropped to his knees beside him, lifting his head gently. "You're insane," he muttered. "You know that?"
Youri let out a weak breath that might have been a laugh. "Told you…" he rasped. "I'm… used to monsters."
Leo carried him back to the locker room and laid him gently on one of the benches. The adrenaline had drained away and left nothing but pain behind; Youri was cut and bruised from head to toe, with blood drying in thin streaks across his face and chest. Every breath came shallow and uneven. A woman in a white coat came and sat down beside him with a small medical case — a brunette with sharp green eyes behind neat glasses and her hair cut short at the neck, calm and composed. She opened the case and reached up to wipe the blood from his forehead.
Youri recoiled at once, jerking away with a sharp breath and his eyes locked on her in alarm. A white coat, reaching for him — for one terrible instant he was back on a table in Altex.
Leo raised his hands quickly. "Hey — hey, chill, dude. She's just a doctor." He turned to her apologetically. "Sorry, Mia. He's probably still in shock from the fight."
Mia studied Youri for a moment. Her expression softened. "That's fine," she said evenly. "I'll just patch you up. But you'll need a real hospital after this. Your ribs are definitely broken."
She worked carefully and methodically, cleaning his wounds and bandaging him. Youri stayed tense the whole time, flinching at every touch with his jaw clenched, but he didn't pull away again.
The locker room door swung open. Toney strode in with his voice echoing off the walls. "Hey, kid! You've got guts!" He laughed loudly and clapped his hands together. "You left the whole crowd speechless. Staying conscious against Boris? That doesn't happen." He pulled a thick stack of bills from his pocket and tossed it into Youri's lap. "Three thousand zells. You earned it. Come back when you're fixed up. You're turning into a crowd favorite."
Leo gave Youri a firm pat on the shoulder, grinning in spite of his worry. "Told you it pays well."
Youri let out a slow breath with his eyes still on the money. "Yeah," he murmured. "It really does."
Mia closed her case and stood. Before she left, she paused and looked back at them both. She let out a slow breath. "If dragging yourself to the edge of death — or worse — is worth three thousand zells," she said quietly, "then sure. Keep coming back." Her eyes settled on Youri. "But if you value your life even a little, stay away from places like this."
She turned and walked out, leaving the locker room heavy with silence. Youri sat there broken and bleeding, with the money in his hands weighing far more than it should have.