Youri and Leo arrived at the underground tunnel just as the night beneath Vegas began to wake.
The entrance itself was hidden behind a rusted metal door tucked away in an alley that smelled of oil, damp concrete, and old cigarettes. Once inside, the air changed. It grew warmer, heavier, thick with anticipation. The echo of voices bounced off stone walls as they descended deeper, each step carrying them farther away down.
People lined up at a long betting station carved into the side of the cavern. Stacks of cash changed hands rapidly, fingers tapping impatiently as names were shouted and scribbled down.
Youri slowed his steps, eyes drawn to the line.
"Why are those guys lined up there?" he asked, genuinely curious.
Leo grinned immediately and slung an arm over Youri's shoulder. "So you don't know what a bet is, huh?"
Youri glanced sideways at him, confusion clear on his face.
Leo burst out laughing. "Man, you really are something else."
He pointed toward the betting station as they continued walking. "It's simple. You put money on the person you think is gonna win. If they do, you get your money back—and a bonus."
Youri frowned slightly, thinking it through. "So… they risk money hoping someone else wins?"
"Exactly," Leo said. "People come here mostly for that. Trying to double their cash. Some win big. Some lose everything."
He gave Youri a sideways grin. "And if you're betting tonight, you already know who to put your money on."
Youri smiled faintly but said nothing.
They reached the locker room—a narrow concrete space with metal benches, dented lockers, and the smell of sweat soaked into the walls. Toney was already there, pacing back and forth with a clipboard tucked under his arm.
The moment Leo stepped inside, Toney spun around.
"Hey, Leo!" he shouted. "You're late!"
Leo waved him off. "Relax, Toney. There's still plenty of time."
Toney scowled. "How are we supposed to prep for the entrance if you don't show up?"
Leo shrugged. "We'll manage."
Toney shook his head, muttering under his breath as he stormed toward the door. "Next time you decide to be late, don't go asking for an entrance."
He slammed the door shut behind him.
Youri blinked. "You're doing an entrance?"
Leo grinned proudly. "Yeah. Gonna walk down from 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 replied as he opened his locker and began wrapping his hands carefully, methodical and focused now that the moment was approaching.
Youri leaned against the wall, watching him. There was something different about Leo tonight—not nervous, not cocky. Calm. Calculated. Like a predator waiting patiently for the right moment.
After a while, the muffled roar of the crowd grew louder.
Toney's voice echoed through the speakers.
"Gentlemen!" he shouted from the center of the octagon. "Tonight is special!"
The tunnel erupted in cheers.
"Tonight, we have a fight between two men who are evenly matched in their past bouts!"
The crowd leaned in, hungry.
"Make some noise for—Jimmy The Snake!"
The roar was deafening.
Jimmy emerged from the opposite tunnel, muscles tight and defined under the harsh lights. He was tall, broad-shouldered, his slicked-back hair glistening slightly with sweat. His brown eyes scanned the crowd with cold confidence, and his long dark beard framed a face hardened by experience.
He wore only black shorts, his upper body bare, scarred, and ready.
Jimmy climbed into the octagon with smooth efficiency, stretching his arms before settling into his corner, eyes already fixed on the entrance Leo would emerge from.
Toney raised the mic again.
"And now… for our next contender!"
The crowd hushed, anticipation thick.
"We all know he likes to show off a little—make some noise for Leo The Calculated!"
The cheers rose—but then suddenly—
The lights in the tunnel shut off.
The tunnel plunged into darkness.
A single spotlight snapped on, aimed at the tunnel entrance.
Music exploded from the speakers, heavy bass reverberating through the stone. Leo stepped into the light, shoulders squared, head held high. The spotlight followed him as he descended the stairs slowly, deliberately, soaking in every shout, every chant of his name.
Youri watched from the sidelines.
Leo climbed into the octagon, never once breaking eye contact with Jimmy.
The music cut.
The lights returned.
Toney stepped between them. "Rules are simple. No weapons. No outside interference. Tap or get knocked out."
He stepped back.
The bell rang.
Jimmy moved first, circling, light on his feet. Leo mirrored him, calm and controlled.
Jimmy feinted left, then lunged forward with a fast jab. Leo blocked, countering with a sharp kick to the thigh. Jimmy grunted but smiled.
They exchanged blows—fast, brutal, precise.
Jimmy was aggressive, pushing forward relentlessly, trying to overwhelm Leo with pressure. Leo stayed patient, reading his movements, slipping punches by inches.
Then Jimmy caught him with a hook to the ribs.
The sound echoed.
Youri's jaw clenched.
Leo stumbled back but recovered instantly, firing a straight punch that snapped Jimmy's head to the side. The crowd erupted.
Jimmy growled and rushed again.
They collided in the center of the octagon, fists flying. Jimmy landed another heavy hit, but Leo ducked under the next strike and delivered a crushing elbow to Jimmy's 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.
The crowd was on its feet.
Leo grabbed him by the shoulder and delivered one final punch, clean and devastating.
Jimmy collapsed.
The referee rushed in, waving his arms.
The bell rang again.
"It's over!"
The tunnel exploded with cheers.
Youri exhaled slowly, realizing he'd been holding his breath.
Leo stood over Jimmy for a moment before stepping back, chest rising and falling, eyes burning with adrenaline.
Toney grabbed the mic. "Your winner—Leo The Calculated!"
As Leo exited the octagon, Youri met him halfway.
"Told you," Leo said with a grin, breathing hard. "Watch closely."
Youri smiled back.
Watching Leo fight had awakened something familiar. The way bodies moved. The rhythm of violence. The precision.
Youri felt it clearly now.
This world—this underground chaos—it wasn't foreign to him.
It felt like home.