Time: Unknown. Location: Unknown.
The spotlights lash the ring with their beams, burning the bare skin and leaving the fighters panting and bathed in sweat. The last bout of the day is: The Polack VS Uboy. Punches come and go, and every time the red gloves kiss flesh, the crowd celebrates with mixed and confused shouts, which cease to be heard as praise for their favorites and become pure background noise.
The Polack is tired. His face, hands, arms, chest and ribs ache. He would like nothing better than to give up. But cannot lose, not when on his shoulders weigh the debts of life and the interests of the powerful who bet on his name. He moves forward and absorbs a right with the shoulder. Takes another step that leaves him even closer to the opponent. He prepares his left hook, stretches the arm, and tilts Uboy's face with a punch in which the redhead concentrated all the weight of his body.
