Jackson, who had gone over to get some drinks, was stopped by a man in a suit, wearing many rings on his hands, who immediately fixed his gaze on him.
"Do you have a fighter here?" Jackson asked casually, having more or less figured out the man's identity.
"Jackson the Crusher, your fights on the deep internet are among the most viewed." The man in the suit smiled, showing his silver teeth, then reached into his coat and pulled out a box. He opened it, revealing a car key.
"Should I guess?"
"I'm Robert, and this is a customized race car parked outside. Inside it are half a million dollars with some extra gifts. If you fight for me, you'll have that and more."
Jackson shook his head and said, "I'm not interested in fights where I might upset powerful men."
But before he could leave, Robert quickly stopped him and said, "Fight my boy. He's the best I've had in a long time, and if you beat him, you can take these gifts. Listen, we'll leave discussions about future fights for later, and don't worry—my circle doesn't take grudges from winners personally. On the contrary, we admire them because we love this sport."
The last thing Jackson wanted was to get involved with this kind of man, likely someone tied to the mafia.
But refusing a fight wasn't his style either—still, since he was with his friends, he didn't want to get involved in tonight's matches.
Even so, with Robert's last words, Jackson felt convinced but didn't accept openly and walked away.
"Remember me, I have better things to give you if you fight tonight in front of my sponsors!" Robert shouted with a bright smile and then murmured, "Prepare the gift, tell him it's only for tonight's fights."
"Didn't you want him for the European tournament?" A burly man covered in tattoos was puzzled by Robert's decision, since Robert wanted to recruit Jackson to represent him.
Robert looked at him and said, "I investigated him. He has money, but if he depends only on money later, he won't be able to do what he truly wants."
"Are you referring to that?"
"Yes. He seems disinterested, but he definitely wants to know who killed his parents." Robert smiled slightly as he said this, as if he knew more than Jackson did.
"He's still young..."
"But he'll grow, and he'll be one of the best."
"Since the deal will be fair, tell him we'll kill one of the men who murdered his parents, and we'll do the same to the other. Believe me, I want him—he should fight for me in that tournament. But for now, he just needs to prove he's really worth betting on."
Robert knew Jackson because he was a talent hunter, finding fighters who could put on a spectacle for the biggest sponsors of underground fights in the world.
And recently, some of his sponsors had been impressed with a young fighter nicknamed The Dog. They were interested in finding a young fighter close to The Dog's level to organize a good match.
That's why Robert tracked down Jackson in this city as soon as he learned he was here.
Jackson stood out mainly in fights within the country, where he normally pushed the limits of the rules. But digging deeper, Robert found some illegal fights in the U.S. where Jackson had mercilessly defeated opponents twice his age.
Without a doubt, he was a fighter who would become one of the most complete over time.
By investigating further, Robert discovered the boy had a well-off background and definitely wouldn't suffer financially. However, searching for something Jackson would need or want in order to convince him to fight, he found the tragic story involving him and his family.
Knowing this, and with the right connections, Robert could make those robbers disappear within hours—something no one else could do for Jackson.
And this was the key that could make Jackson fight anyone, as long as those animals were eliminated.
…
When Jackson returned, he found Devon talking to Ryan's current girlfriend, while Miguel was chatting with a guy with messy hair.
"Having fun?" Jackson approached with drinks and some trays of food for his friends, who were seated on a private couch.
"This party is amazing."
"I met your friend, Jackson. She's quite lovely," said Baja Miller with a smile as she looked at Devon.
Jackson simply smiled, and at that moment a man in a suit approached with a silver tray holding a note.
"What's this?"
"A gift—you should take it."
Jackson, filled with curiosity, took the note, and when his eyes saw what it said, his expression turned cold. "Do you know who sent this?"
"The man you were talking to earlier."
"Is he mocking me?"
"Not at all, Mr. Robert holds you in high regard."
"First I'll finish off his fighter, then I'll make sure he keeps his word, or I'll break his teeth wherever he is. If he knows me well enough, he should know my master holds me in high regard." Jackson's cold words left everyone stunned, and without saying another word, he got up and headed to the locker rooms where Ryan organized the fighters.
Devon, confused, picked up the paper Jackson had thrown, and it read: "If you fight tonight, one of the men who killed your parents will stop breathing in a few days."
"It can't be…"