Chapter 200

Alex’s knees throbbed as they made contact with the gritty floor of the ring. His victory over Crusher should have felt like triumph, like a hard-earned success, but instead, it was a hollow accomplishment—one that left him both physically and mentally drained. The taste of blood lingered in his mouth, metallic and bitter, mingling with the sweat that dripped down his face. His breaths were ragged, each inhale burning as if his lungs were on fire.

The crowd was still roaring, their bloodlust momentarily sated by the spectacle they had witnessed. They didn’t care who won or lost, only that they had been entertained. To them, Alex was just another fighter, another body in the ring to be cheered for or jeered at, depending on how the fight went.

Mike pulled Alex to his feet, his grip firm but not without a hint of pride. "You did good, kid," he said, his voice barely audible over the noise. "Didn’t think you had it in you, but you proved me wrong."

Alex swayed on his feet, struggling to