Jack stepped onto the first floor of the House of Arena, his senses on high alert. The cold concrete walls of the building felt confining, even suffocating, yet he could feel the pulse of anticipation surging within him. He was here for one reason: to save Lena. Every step, every punch, every ounce of his energy would be dedicated to her rescue. But first, he'd have to get past the towering man who stood before him.
His opponent was a beast of a man, easily six-foot-five, with muscles rippling under his tight black tank top. Tattoos covered his thick arms, marking him as a seasoned fighter, someone who'd been in more than his fair share of street brawls. His nickname, "The Brawler," was well-earned, Jack thought, noting the scars crisscrossing his face and the dangerous glint in his eye. The man looked like he enjoyed inflicting pain, and he grinned as Jack approached, cracking his knuckles menacingly.
