"Tonight, I killed someone..." Max had ended a man's life, one of the bastards responsible for taking his father away.
He never imagined something like this would happen, but now that he had even the slightest chance for revenge, he wouldn't let it go—unless it became truly impossible to achieve.
"You were absolutely incredible, Max," Miguel said, his excitement bubbling over as Max received medical attention.
Devon, standing nearby with a smile, added, "For a moment, I thought the fight would be stopped."
"It would've been stopped if this were any other type of tournament, but not here," Ryan replied, his tone more composed. His gaze fixed on Max, who had fought despite everything.
There was no point in saying anything more. Ryan understood that Max didn't enjoy this.
But this time, Ryan saw something different in Max. He thought Max's trip to Japan had a lot to do with it.
"Robert wants to talk to you," Ryan said as he came to check on Max. Max nodded at the words.
"Alright, give me a second."
"Sure thing."
Once everyone left, Max remained in the room, still receiving medical treatment.
"That was a good fight," Robert said, walking into the room, pacing restlessly as if something was on his mind.
Max looked up and asked, "Will you keep your word?"
"Huh? Of course. Don't worry about that—you'll get news in a few days. But as you know, there's only one spot, and there are two targets. To make sure the other one never opens his eyes again, I'll need you to fight for a random sponsor in a private tournament in Europe." Robert had secured a lucrative sponsor, something that promised to bring him significant profits.
In a few years, Max would be a complete fighter, capable of achieving anything. With his skills, he could go anywhere and accomplish whatever he set his mind to.
Robert knew this and planned to use Max for his own benefit, leveraging his knowledge and connections.
"Fine, but I need proof, and I need the fights to be safe." Max wasn't a fool; he didn't want to put his uncle—who had helped him so much—in harm's way.
Moreover, he now had friends, and the last thing Max wanted was to drag them into his own troubles.
Robert tilted his head slightly, nodded, and said, "Don't worry, at least you won't die."
"That's not the issue," Max replied, unafraid of dying in a combat arena.
"Well, it wouldn't be my problem either," Robert quipped as he placed a box with the keys to a sports car on a nearby table. "This is your prize. The money's in the passenger seat. I'll call you when the tournament is about to start—it'll be a few months from now."
Max stared at the keys on the table and sighed. Accepting gifts from people connected to the underworld wasn't his style.
Even so, rejecting an offered gift twice would be rude. After all, they were about to do him a favor.
…
"So, now that it's three in the morning, what exactly are we supposed to do?" Miguel asked, noticing that many were still brawling with no rules.
Max, who had been treated, was now lounging on a sofa while Devon played video games.
"We'll leave in a bit. Just sit down and get some rest," Max said.
Miguel thought it was a good suggestion, so he sat down—and soon found himself chatting with a girl.