Ethan had barely managed to catch his breath from the scuffle with Liam Hayes when the next punch from Victor's schemes came along. His win meant that more media attention shone on him, so he was being hailed as a rising star, but it also made the bright lights on his past blaze with harsher criticism. By morning, headlines were plastered across every sports website, some congratulating his win, others questioning legitimacy.
Frank burst into the apartment, waving a newspaper in front of him. "You have got to see this," he said, putting it down on the kitchen table.
Ethan nursed his cup of coffee and his shoulder, leaning over to get a look at the bold headline: "Ethan Walker: From Underground Fighter to Controversial Contender."
"Victor's behind this," Ethan murmured. "He is trying to make me the villain.
Frank nodded. "He's feeding these reporters enough dirt to make you look bad but not enough to ruin you outright. It's psychological warfare. He wants you rattled."
"It's working," Ethan admitted, rubbing his temples. "How do we stop him?"
Frank's expression hardened. "By staying one step ahead. We're going to dig into his dirt, just like he's doing to you. Everybody's got skeletons, Ethan. We just need to find Victor's.
The next few days passed by in a whirlwind of damage control and preparation. Frank tapped his contacts, while Ethan kept his head down and trained relentlessly. All the same, it had an air of tension; every time Ethan set foot in the gym or went walking on the streets, he felt the burden of eyes on him—from the fans, to those with skepticism, and people wanting him to fail.
It was at one of these training sessions when Ethan's phone buzzed from a message with an unknown number. It was saying,
"Meet me at the old pier tonight. I have information on Victor. Come alone."
Ethan read the message, feeling his instincts immediately go up. He showed it to Frank, who frowned deeply.
"It's a trap," Frank said. "Victor wants you isolated. You can't go.
"And what if it's not?" Ethan countered. "What if it's someone who can actually help us? I can't ignore it."
Frank's jaw clenched. "Fine. But you're not going alone. I'll be nearby, watching your back."
The pier was a desolate, crumbling stretch of concrete jutting into dark water. A salty breeze carried the scent of something rotten and the only light emanated from a streetlamp far down the pier that was flickering. Ethan had arrived just after midnight and wore his hoodie to keep his face obscured as he looked around, every muscle tight.
"Ethan Walker," a voice called out of the darkness.
A figure emerged, a wiry man with a nervous energy and a weathered face. He wore a leather jacket that had seen better days, and his eyes darted around like a hunted animal.
"Who are you?" Ethan demanded.
"Name's Jimmy," the man said, shoving his hands into his pockets. "I used to work for Victor Kane. I know things… things he wouldn't want getting out."
Ethan took a step forward, cautious. "Why tell me?"
Jimmy hesitated, his eyes dropping to the ground. "Because I hate that son of a bitch. He ruined my life, and I want to see him burn. You're the best shot I've got to make that happen.
Before Ethan could even utter anything, a loud crack resounded through the night. Jimmy jerked violently as a gun went off, and fell to the ground. He froze, his mind a blur. From the dark, two men stepped forth, both armed and precise in their movements.
One of them sneered while saying, "Victor sends his regards.".
Ethan's instincts took over. He bolted, weaved through the abandoned pier as bullets whizzed by him. He could hear Frank shouting in the distance, and a moment later, the roar of a car engine filled the air.
"Get in!" Frank yelled as he pulled up alongside Ethan.
Ethan dove into the passenger seat, and Frank floored the gas pedal. The two men fired after them, but the car sped away, leaving the shooters behind.
"What the hell just happened?" Frank demanded as they tore through the city streets.
"Victor happened," Ethan said, his voice tight with anger. "He's not just trying to ruin me. He's trying to take me out."
The incidence at the pier made a watershed. It was no longer any battle for his career it represented survival. Frank's network confirmed identification and but there was no hope of using the knowledge Jimmy possessed. They would have to act fast before Victor struck again.
Ethan's upcoming fight weighed heavy, because now he felt the extra pressure of the Commission's investigation and media frenzy that would not abate. Every time Ethan appeared in front of the camera, he felt the shadow of Victor pressing down on him.
In the gym, Frank pushed him harder than ever. "Victor wants to break you," Frank said during a grueling sparring session. "He wants you scared, distracted. Don't let him. You've got to channel all of this into the ring. That's where you'll beat him."
Ethan nodded, though the constriction in his chest didn't ease. He knew Frank was right, but never had the stakes been this high. As the fight drew near, he threw everything he had into preparation, using every punch and every step to push back against fear and doubt.
On the night of the fight, the arena buzzed with a sense of anticipation. Ethan's opponent was a seasoned fighter, Marcus "The Viper" Steele, who got his name for brutal technique and psychological warfare. Just the kind of challenge that Ethan needed to prove to himself that he belonged in the ring-and to Victor that he could not be broken.
It was brutal from the outset. Marcus played out his reputation, did everything he could to unbalance Ethan - taunting him and hitting him with cheap blows, trying to find that weak spot and exploit every flaw. But Ethan simply stood firm, not one inch of giving in against all the mental games directed at him.
But by the third round, the tide had turned. Ethan's train of thought began to pay off as he started to find small openings through Marcus's defense. He was landing each punch sharply and wore Marcus down little by little. The crowd went wild as he took the momentum and pushed Marcus on the ropes.
In the final round, Ethan delivered a devastating combination that sent Marcus to the canvas. The referee's count was an eternity, but upon reaching ten, the area erupted in cheers. And again, Ethan had stood tall, claiming victory over the true contender.
Returning backstage, as Ethan is basking in his well-deserved victory, Frank walks up with a dismal look on his face and says, "We now have a new problem here." He then hands his phone to Ethan.
On the screen was a message from Victor:
"Nice win tonight. But enjoy it while it lasts. The next round is mine."
Ethan's jaw tightened as he stared at the words. He knew Victor wouldn't stop until he was destroyed. Ethan wasn't going to let it happen. Not now. Not ever.