CHAPTER 187

After ending the call with Lieutenant General Thompson, Romeo swiftly slipped his phone back into his pocket.

Inside the cramped confines of the makeshift medical center, he reached into the aged wooden closet, pulling out a worn leather jacket that creaked softly as he slipped it over his shoulders.

His movements were quick and precise, a mirror of the mental preparation he was undergoing.

Next, he put on his pair of dark jeans and sturdy boots.

Beneath the jacket, Romeo carefully tucked the cold, heavy gun into the waistband of his trousers, ensuring it was concealed yet accessible.

A final check in the cracked mirror by the door confirmed he was as ready as he would ever be.

Stepping outside, the air was thick with the tension of the impending night's events.

The Fisticuffs Arena loomed large and ominous, its walls echoing with the distant cheers of an oblivious crowd.

Now outside, Don Frago and his entourage stood a few yards away, silhouetted against the flickering lights o
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