Arthur let Warren hit the floor and did not bother to gloat. He rolled his shoulders like a man warming up for the next job, slow and without fuss. His face stayed the same unreadable mask he always wore. It made him look like someone who did not waste energy on showing feelings. But his body told the truth: ready. Alert. Calm and waiting.
On the other side of the room Leon and Liam faced each other like two people who had been carrying a score for a long time.
The space between them felt smaller than the rest of the place. People moved back automatically, giving the fighters room. The air smelled like dust, sweat, and something metallic from earlier hits. Everyone's attention tightened like a drawn string.
Leon let a grin come out that was more hunger than humor. "Why not fight me, scaredy cat?" he said. His voice was low and carried a kind of sharp heat.
