Before the ref could move back, he saw a blur whiz by his face. When his brain registered what had happened, he followed the movement. Just in time, he saw Big Tit sail through the air before crashing to the ground outside the fighting ring.
With one punch, Ivy had sent her opponent out of the arena.
Her group and those who saw nearby were completely silent, staring at the hurting Big Tit on the ground, who held his chest, groaning in pain.
Tobi mouthed the word, "Wow," as he looked at the reactions of everyone around him.
Ivy ducked between the ropes and hopped down to the floor, sitting next to Tobi. She glanced back, seeing the man on the top row of the bleachers stare at her from behind his sunglasses.
"To be honest, Ivy, I was nervous for you." Tobi said. "That was crazy."
After several rounds of fights, it was Ivy's turn once again.
Again, she started spinning and mumbling affirmations.
The result was the same, as people ducked out of the way of Ivy's opponent as he tumbled over the ropes.
Every fight she had for the rest of that night ended the same way as she advanced through the brackets.
In the end, Ivy was one of the six who would advance to the real tournament. The fight administrator even commented that she was the first person under the age of twenty to advance.
The following day, at nine in the morning, Ivy paced around her personal basement locker room, which was about the size of a one-room apartment. Antsy, as her fight was going to start at ten.
Tobi sat in a chair, watching the mounted set of TVs in the room, which displayed live broadcasts from each of the three arenas. Directly above them, through about 100 feet of tunnels and concrete, was the second arena. The roars of anticipation from the crowd above reverberated through their room, causing it to shake slightly.
Noticing Ivy was quieter than usual, Tobi looked at her. "You look kinda scared. Are you alright?"
"It's the crowds," she mumbled, but her voice bounced around the walls of the concrete room. "I'm not nervous to fight. I'll beat up anyone on earth! But I don't wanna do it in front of this many people…"
He noticed that she was messing with something shiny in her hands. "When did you get the necklace?"
"I've haven't taken it off in...well, maybe forever..." She held it up to the light for him to see—a petite, shiny golden charm in the shape of a spade with a glossy red border.
"Well, I've never done anything in front of a crowd like this, but some of my football games were in massive stadiums, and the stands were overcrowded…But, if that's some kind of good luck charm for you, then use it."
Ivy was listening intently.
"And, uh, I mean, you get nervous, but when you're out there, you kinda just forget to notice them. You become almost solipsistic; you're just in your own world."
Above, a horn blasted as the first fight was about to start. A knock on the locker room door and an intern informed them that her call time was in fifteen minutes.
"Alright," Ivy hopped onto a small treadmill in the corner of the room, getting warmed up.
Ivy and Tobi walked through the tunnel toward the entrance of the stadium.
Leaning against the wall, Ivy noticed the same man who had sat on the bleachers the night before. He was about a head taller than her but a few inches shorter than Tobi.
"Good luck," he nodded as they walked past.
Ivy entered the ring just as her opponent did. The ring was elevated about five feet off the ground and was fifty yards wide and fifty yards deep, making a perfect square. Surrounding them were the stadium seats, only filled to about a third of its capacity—despite this, the ground shook from their cheers when they saw both fighters emerge from their respective entrances.
The arena was open, letting sunlight stream down, illuminating the ring.
Tobi paced around the side of the arena, muttering, "How the hell did I get here? How is any of this real? I'm dreaming…" He stopped, staring up at Ivy, seeing her facing away from her opponent, distracted by something. "Come on, Ivy!" He yelled. The music was blasting, and the crowd was so loud he doubted she could hear him.
The referee stood between Ivy and her opponent, Pilot, a muscular man with a purple leather mask.
"Fight!" the referee yelled, backing up quickly.
Ivy stood, wide-eyed, staring at the crowd. The flashing phone cameras dazzling her.
"Ivy!" Tobi yelled.
Pilot hauled back—Ivy didn't even notice him. Slamming his fist directly into her cheek, he then spun but blinked in surprise when his kick was caught.
Ivy stood, holding on to his foot, completely unphased by the hit. Yanking him toward herself, he lost balance and fell back, rolling away from Ivy's boot, which threatened his head.
Not allowing him to get to his feet, she jumped on him, tying her legs around his torso and slipping her arm under his neck.
Squeezing tightly as he rolled around, scratching at her arms, within seconds, the fight left his body, and he tapped out.
She held on tightly, continuing to squeeze until the ref pulled her off of him, holding her arm in the air, declaring her the winner of the match.
"Ivy! Ivy! Ivy!" the crowd chanted.
Above her, the television repeatedly replayed her win in slow motion, the cameras zooming in on her face.
Pilot lay on the ground, coughing and sputtering, trying to catch his breath. She had squeezed his neck so tight that almost no oxygen or blood was going to his brain. As he took deep breaths, the color slowly returned to his vision.
"Ivy! You made that look so easy!" Tobi said when they entered her underground locker room once more.
"Yeah," Ivy smiled, trying to look enthused.
"What?"
"I just-" a frown crossed her face, and in a frustrated tone, said, "It messed me up. I didn't get to start the fight how I wanted. I was distracted."
Tobi shrugged, plopping down in a chair, "You did a'ight. I mean, it didn't even last twenty seconds! I don't think it could've gone any better!"
For the next few hours, Tobi began looking through the NFC programs, watching her future opponent's older fights, and some of the fightly that were currently happening at that moment.
"Based on what I'm seeing," Tobi said, "Your competition doesn't seem too impressive. If they're anything like that poor guy you choked out, I don't think you'll have an issue…though, I will say. This dude, Karbur, if you end up getting put against him before you fight one of the Three Kings, he'll be your biggest challenge."
Over the next few days, Ivy sleepwalked through every opponent, beating them all within the first round.
After every win, the crowd got more and more hyped, chanting her name louder and louder.
Tobi would show her the highlights of her fights that were being uploaded, and all the attention she was getting. With each fight, the stands would become fuller and fuller.
At this point, Ivy had two more fights to win until she was able to challenge one of the Three Kings. These matches in particular, are a lot more advertised and televised by the NFC. During this time, tickets usually sell out within an hour. All eyes are trained to see who has taken their training and lives seriously enough to fight with some of the best in the world.
While waiting for her next match in the tunnel before entering the arena, both Tobi, and Ivy stared at his phone, watching the promotional material the NFC looped before every fight.
The livestream then cut to the commentator's booth, showing the NFC's three fight commentators. A woman named Cheryl, a younger man named Ahim, and another man named Machita.
"Hey, yo, is that…" Tobi squinted, getting up close to the television screen, "Machita was that guy in the tunnel, wasn't he? The bald black guy there."
"He was also watching my first fights too."
When it was her time to go, Ivy took a deep breath, stepping out of the mouth of the tunnel, into the arena.
Over the crowd, the voice of the commentator Ahim rang out, "Next we have a talented and young newcomer! She is so talented that she has won every single match thus far in under 30 seconds! Her opponent has visited this arena three times and has gone so far as to be able to challenge Byron Cartt himself and to this day is the only person alive who hasn't been knocked out or been given a ring out by Byron! Is this the end of the road for the new comer?!"
As Ivy walked toward the ring, the commentary team was going over the statistics pulled for her and her opponent.
"Pulling up the betting odds," Cheryl started, "Len is the clear favorite here. And I think that's for obvious reasons."
From the other side of the reason, Len entered to roars and chants. He was tall and wirey, with short spiky black hair. He had large bronze chains wrapped around his torso.
Cheryl continued, "I think most people are very surprised to see Ivy make it this far."
"Don't count her out," Machita said.
Leaning into Tobi before she entered the ring, Ivy said in his ear, "He's going to be different."
"What do you mean?" Tobi asked over the roar of the crowd.
Though Ivy didn't respond, as she hopped up onto the fighting stage, walking toward the center where the referee stood.
When both Len and Ivy were in the middle, facing each other, the referee spoke, "I'm going to go over the new set of rules for this match."
Ivy blinked with surprise, "New rules?"
Len smiled playfully, "Don't be scared, homie."
"The use of class two weapons are no longer prohibitted. Class three and four weapons are still illegal. So, swords, knives, bows, are all allowed. Guns, or any type of explosive device in this ring will be an instant disqualification."
Ivy looked down, seeing Len casually place his hand on one of the massive chains wrapped around his body. She closed her eyes, holding her arms to the side, feeling herself.
"Do you both understand the rules?" The ref asked when he finished the explanations."
"Yeah," they both nodded.
The referee's hand shot out, "Ready…Fight!"