James spent the week preparing for the underground match.
He trained differently now. Less drilling of perfect technique. More sparring at full intensity. Hoshi agreed to go harder during their private sessions, not holding back as much. James took real hits. Got bruised. Bloodied.
It was necessary. He needed to know what getting hit felt like. How his body reacted. How his mind handled pain and pressure.
He also began planning for the post-fight scenario. Underground fighting would give him experience, but it came with risks. If he won too easily or too often, people would notice. Batman might notice. That was attention he didn't want yet.
He'd need to be strategic. Win some fights. Lose some fights. Make it look competitive even when it wasn't. Build a reputation as a skilled fighter but not superhuman.
Friday arrived. James put on plain athletic clothes. Wrapped his hands carefully. Brought a hundred dollars cash for the buy-in.
Arrived at the venue at eleven PM.
The basement was packed again. More people than last week. Word had spread about a new fighter. The crowd was hungry for fresh blood.
James paid his buy-in to the enforcer from before. Was directed to a corner to wait. Three other fighters were scheduled before him.
He watched the matches carefully. Analyzing styles. Identifying patterns. His enhanced intellect processed everything. Reaction speeds. Preferred techniques. Weaknesses.
His match was called at midnight.
"Apex versus Crusher!"
James stepped into the taped-off ring. His opponent was already there. A man in his thirties, huge. Six foot four, probably two hundred and sixty pounds. Heavily muscled. Scarred knuckles. This wasn't his first time.
The crowd roared. Betting was heavy. Most of it on Crusher. James was unknown. Crusher had a reputation.
No referee. No bell. The fight just started.
Crusher came forward immediately. Used his size advantage. Threw a big overhand right.
James slipped it. The punch passed inches from his face. Countered with a quick jab to Crusher's ribs. Moved away before the bigger man could grab him.
Crusher reset. Tried a different approach. Faked a punch, shot for a takedown. Using his wrestling background.
James sprawled perfectly. The Neural Interface training kicked in automatically. Weight back. Hips down. Crusher couldn't get his legs.
James circled out. Threw a low kick to Crusher's lead leg. Connected hard. The bigger man grimaced.
The crowd noise increased. This was competitive. Not the squash match they expected.
Crusher pressed forward again. More aggressive now. Threw combinations. His technique was raw but powerful. Each punch had bad intentions.
James's superior technique showed. He parried. Slipped. Countered. Landed clean shots that accumulated damage.
Two minutes in, Crusher was breathing hard. Frustrated. He'd expected to overwhelm this smaller opponent. Instead, he was getting picked apart.
Crusher charged. Tried to bull rush. Get James against the wall.
James used Judo timing. As Crusher came in, James turned his hip. Executed Osoto Gari. The throw he'd learned in his very first Neural Interface session.
Crusher went down hard. Two hundred and sixty pounds of muscle slamming into concrete.
James followed. Mounted. Rained down strikes.
Crusher covered up. Tried to escape. James transitioned to side control. Isolated an arm. Applied an arm bar.
Crusher held out for maybe ten seconds. Then tapped frantically against the concrete.
Fight over. Total time: three minutes and twenty seconds.
The crowd went insane. Half of them had just lost money. The other half were cheering for the upset.
James stood up. His heart pounded. Adrenaline surged through his system.
That was real. That was actual combat. Not drilling. Not sparring. A real fight where the opponent wanted to hurt him.
And he'd won convincingly.
The enforcer came over. Handed James a wad of cash. "Two thousand three hundred in the pot. Seventy percent is yours. Sixteen hundred ten."
James took the money. Nodded his thanks.
"You fight again next week?" the enforcer asked.
"Maybe. I'll let you know."
James left through the back exit. Walked quickly back to his factory. His hands were shaking slightly from the adrenaline comedown.
He'd done it. Won his first real fight.
More importantly, he'd learned things the Neural Interface couldn't teach. How to stay calm under pressure. How to read an opponent's desperation. How to feel when they were about to break.
That was the experience Hoshi had talked about. That was what couldn't be rushed.
James would return to the underground circuit. Would fight regularly. Would learn through actual combat what no amount of drilling could provide.
But first, he needed to reflect on what he'd learned. Identify gaps in his approach. Use the Neural Interface to address those gaps. Then test again.
The cycle of improvement. Theory to practice to refinement to theory again.
This was how he'd reach Batman-level competence. Not through shortcuts alone. Through intelligent, systematic progression.
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