The sun filtered through the hospital windows, illuminating the room with a soft light. Lucas was sitting up in bed, looking at the bandages covering his ribs and the cut over his eye. Every movement was still a reminder of the battle he had fought days ago. The victory over Rodrigão had not been easy, and his body felt each blow as if it had been hit by a truck.
The room was silent, except for the sound of the ceiling fan, which was slowly rotating. Suddenly, the door opened and a tall, elegant woman, wearing sunglasses and a well-fitted suit, entered. Behind her, a middle-aged man, with a well-trimmed beard and a serious look, followed.
"**Lucas Almeida?"** — the woman asked, removing her glasses with a calculated movement.
"**It's me**," Lucas replied, a little surprised by the unexpected visit.
"**I'm Carolina Martins**," she said, extending her hand firmly. — **Sports event promoter. This is José Costa, my assistant. We have a proposal for you.**
Lucas blinked, trying to absorb the information. He knew that, after the victory, doors would start to open, but he didn't expect it to happen so quickly. He shook her hand, feeling the firmness in her grip, and nodded to his assistant.
— **Congratulations on your victory against Rodrigão**, — Carolina continued, with a calculated smile. — **You showed talent, resilience and, most importantly, a hunger to win that many athletes lack. We are organizing an elite boxing tournament, with fighters from all over the country. And we want you in this tournament.**
Lucas felt his heart race. An elite tournament? He had barely recovered from the fight with Rodrigão and was already being invited to something so big?
— **Elite tournament?** — he repeated, trying to understand what that meant.
— **Exactly**, — José, the assistant, spoke for the first time, with a serious and formal voice. — **We are talking about big names in national boxing, important sponsors and prizes that can change the life of any fighter. And, of course, the chance to be seen all over the country.**
Lucas swallowed hard. The idea of fighting on such a big stage was both exciting and scary at the same time. He knew he was entering a new level of competition, one where the pressure would be immense and the opponents even fiercer.
**This is a unique opportunity, Lucas**, — Carolina said, leaning a little closer. — **You have shown that you have what it takes. Now, you need to seize the moment. A victory in this tournament would not only put you on the map, but would completely change your career.**
Her words echoed in his mind. He had fought so hard to get here, and this seemed like the opportunity he had always wanted. But something inside him hesitated. He was not recovered. His body was still fragile, and he knew that if he pushed himself too hard, he could end up seriously hurting himself.
"**And when would this tournament be?" he asked, his voice thick with uncertainty.
Carolina exchanged a quick glance with José before answering.
"**In two months**," she said casually, as if that was more than enough time for someone in Lucas's condition. "**Enough for you to recover and prepare properly. We'll provide everything you need: doctors, physiotherapists, coaches. Everything.**
Two months. Lucas knew it wouldn't be easy, but he also knew that opportunities wouldn't wait. He would have to make a decision.
"**Can I think about it for a while?" he asked, feeling the weight of the decision on his shoulders.
"**Of course**," Carolina replied, smiling softly. "**But don't think too much, Lucas. Opportunities pass quickly. And if you don't take advantage of this one, I can guarantee that another fighter will be more than willing to take your place.**
With that, she stood up, placing her glasses back on her face.
— **Leave your answer with your coach, Mr. Zeca. We look forward to working with you.**
She and José left the room, leaving Lucas alone with his thoughts. He felt a mixture of excitement and fear growing in his chest. The tournament was a golden opportunity, the opportunity he had always dreamed of. But two months... would that be enough time to recover and train for something so big?
---
Later that same day, Mr. Zeca entered the room with his shuffling gait and closed expression. He carried a small folded newspaper under his arm and looked thoughtful.
— **I heard about the offer**, — he said bluntly, as he sat down next to Lucas's bed. — **These guys know how to make an offer seem tempting, don't they?**
Lucas nodded, still trying to organize his thoughts.
— **It's a good chance, Zeca**, — he said. — **But I don't know if two months is enough. I'm not 100%. And if I enter this tournament and I'm not at my best, I could end up losing everything.**
Mr. Zeca looked at him for a moment, scratching his beard.