Youri and Leo reached the underground tunnel just as the night beneath Vegas was waking up. Its entrance was hidden behind a rusted metal door at the end of an alley that smelled of oil, damp concrete and old cigarettes. Once they were through it, the air changed, warmer, heavier, thick with anticipation, and voices echoed off the stone walls as they went down and down. Along one side of the cavern, people stood in line at a long betting station carved into the rock, where stacks of cash changed hands as fast as names could be shouted and scribbled down.
Youri slowed, his eyes drawn to the line. "Why are those guys lined up over there?"
Leo grinned at once and slung an arm over his shoulder. "So you don't know what a bet is, huh?"
Youri glanced sideways at him, plainly confused, and Leo burst out laughing. "Man, you really are something else." He pointed at the station as they walked. "It's simple. You put money on the guy you think is going to win. If he does, you get your money back plus a bonus."
Youri frowned, working it through. "So they risk money hoping someone else wins?"
"Exactly. Most people come down here for that. Trying to double their cash. Some win big. Some lose everything." Leo gave him a sideways grin. "And if you're betting tonight, you already know who to put your money on."
Youri smiled faintly, but said nothing.
The locker room was a narrow concrete space of metal benches and dented lockers with the smell of sweat soaked into its walls. Toney was already there, pacing with a clipboard under his arm. The moment Leo walked in, he spun around. "Hey, Leo! You're late!"
Leo waved him off. "Relax, Toney. There's still plenty of time."
Toney scowled. "How are we supposed to prep your entrance if you don't show up?"
Leo shrugged. "We'll manage."
Toney shook his head and stormed out, muttering, "Next time you decide to be late, don't come asking me for an entrance," and slammed the door behind him.
Youri blinked. "You're doing an entrance?"
Leo grinned proudly. "Yeah. Walking down the stairs, spotlight on me, music blasting. Just like the pros."
Youri chuckled. "You really like to show off, don't you?"
"Damn right," Leo said. He opened his locker and began wrapping his hands with careful, methodical attention now that the moment was close. Youri leaned against the wall and watched him. There was something different about Leo tonight. He wasn't nervous, and he wasn't cocky either. He was calm and calculated, like a predator waiting patiently for the right moment.
Before long, the muffled roar of the crowd swelled, and Toney's voice boomed through the speakers from the middle of the octagon. "Gentlemen! Tonight is special! Tonight we have two men who are evenly matched in their past bouts! Make some noise for — Jimmy the Snake!"
The roar was deafening. Jimmy came out of the opposite tunnel, tall and broad-shouldered, his muscles tight and defined under the harsh lights, his slicked-back hair glistening a little with sweat and a long dark beard framing a face hardened by experience. He wore only black shorts over a bare, scarred chest, and his brown eyes scanned the crowd with cold confidence. He climbed into the octagon with smooth efficiency, stretched his arms, and settled into his corner with his eyes already fixed on the tunnel Leo would come out of.
"And now," Toney called, "for our next contender! We all know he likes to show off a little — make some noise for Leo the Calculated!"
The cheering rose — and then, without warning, every light in the tunnel went out. The hall plunged into darkness, until a single spotlight snapped on over the tunnel entrance and music exploded from the speakers, heavy bass shuddering through the stone. Leo stepped into the light with his shoulders squared and his head high. The beam followed him as he came slowly down the stairs, soaking in every shout and every chant of his name. He climbed into the octagon without once taking his eyes off Jimmy. The music cut out, and the lights came back.
Toney stepped between them. "Rules are simple. No weapons. No outside interference. Tap or get knocked out." He stepped back, and the bell rang.
Jimmy moved first, circling light on his feet. Leo mirrored him, calm and controlled. Jimmy feinted left and darted in with a fast jab. Leo blocked it and answered with a sharp kick to the thigh. Jimmy grunted and smiled. Then they traded blows, fast, brutal, precise. Jimmy was the aggressor, pressing forward relentlessly and trying to bury Leo under pressure, while Leo stayed patient, read him and slipped his punches by inches. Then Jimmy caught him with a hook to the ribs that echoed through the hall, and Youri's jaw clenched.
Leo stumbled back, but he recovered at once and fired a straight punch that snapped Jimmy's head sideways. The crowd erupted. Jimmy growled and rushed in again. They collided in the middle of the cage with fists flying, and Jimmy landed another heavy shot. But Leo ducked under the next one and drove an elbow into his jaw. Jimmy staggered. Leo didn't hesitate. He stepped in and unleashed a brutal combination, body shot, hook, knee to the midsection. Jimmy dropped to one knee, and the whole crowd came to its feet. Leo took him by the shoulder and delivered one final punch, clean and devastating, and Jimmy went down. The referee rushed in waving his arms, and the bell rang.
"It's over!"
The tunnel exploded. Youri let out a slow breath and realized he had been holding it. Leo stood over Jimmy for a moment, chest heaving and eyes burning with adrenaline. Then he stepped back as Toney seized the microphone. "Your winner — Leo the Calculated!"
Youri met him halfway as he came out of the cage.
"Told you," Leo said, grinning and breathing hard. "Watch closely."
Youri smiled back. But watching Leo fight had stirred something familiar in him: the way bodies moved, the rhythm of the violence, the precision of it. His perfect memory had kept every exchange, every feint, every shift of weight, and he could feel them already settling into his own body like lessons he had been waiting all his life to learn. And he understood it clearly now. This world, this underground chaos, was not foreign to him at all.
It felt like home.