James caught his breath. "How do I get that experience?"
"Time. There's no shortcut for it. You need hundreds of rounds against skilled opponents. Need to fail. Get hit. Make mistakes. Learn from them. That can't be rushed."
James understood what Hoshi was saying, but it frustrated him. He'd accelerated the technical learning through the Neural Interface. Seven times faster than normal. But experience couldn't be accelerated the same way. It required actual time. Actual encounters.
That evening, James researched underground fighting circuits in Gotham. Places where skilled fighters competed for money. Where the matches weren't regulated or safe.
Where he could get real experience against dangerous opponents.
It was risky. He could get seriously hurt. Could attract the wrong kind of attention.
But Hoshi was right. Without real experience, his perfect technique was hollow.
James found three underground fighting venues in Gotham. One in the Bowery. One in the Narrows. One in Tricorner Yards, ironically just a few blocks from his factory.
He decided to check out the Tricorner location first.
The venue was in a warehouse basement. Accessed through an unmarked door in an alley. James arrived at eleven PM on a Friday, dressed in plain clothes, wearing a hood.
Inside, the space was packed. Maybe two hundred people crowded around a makeshift ring, just a flat area marked with tape on the concrete floor. The air smelled like sweat and alcohol and violence.
A fight was already underway. Two men trading brutal strikes. No referee. No rules that James could see. They fought until one couldn't continue.
The crowd roared as one fighter caught the other with a devastating hook. The man crumpled. Fight over.
James watched three more matches. All of them vicious. All of them skilled. These weren't street thugs. These were trained fighters looking to make money or prove themselves.
After the third match, a man approached James. Big guy, scarred face, looked like an enforcer.
"You fighting or watching?" the man asked.
"Watching tonight. Maybe fighting next time."
"You look like you can handle yourself. We need fresh blood. A hundred dollar buy-in. Winner takes seventy percent of the pot. House takes thirty."
"How big are the pots?"
"Depends on the betting. Usually two to five thousand."
James calculated. If he won, he'd make fourteen hundred to thirty-five hundred per fight. More importantly, he'd get the experience Hoshi said he needed.
"I'll fight next week," James said.
"Name?"
He'd prepared an alias. "Call me Apex."
The enforcer wrote it down. "Friday night. Be here at eleven. Bring your buy-in."
James nodded and left.
Walking back to his factory, he felt a mixture of anticipation and concern. Underground fighting was dangerous. People got hurt badly. Sometimes killed.
But he needed this. Needed to test himself against real opposition. Needed to learn how to fight when the stakes were actual.
The Neural Interface could teach him technique. Only real combat could teach him to fight.
---
James spent the week preparing for the underground match.
Read advanced chapters 20+ days ahead on Patreon marvelstark