Title: Phantom Gloves Online
Chapter 1: The Hollow Mansion
Leon Kane stood in the cavernous living room of his mansion, the emptiness pressing against him like a heavy weight. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the sprawling city below, lights flickering like distant stars. The room was immaculate—marble floors polished to a mirror finish, leather furniture untouched, abstract art adorning the walls. Everything screamed wealth and success.
But the mansion was silent. Too silent.
Leon's gaze drifted to the trophy case against the far wall. Gold belts, glimmering medals, and silver-plated gloves gleamed under the soft lighting. At the center of it all was his greatest triumph: the lightweight world championship belt.
He hated looking at it.
Clenching his jaw, Leon turned away. His hand brushed against the edge of a table, the sharp pain shooting up his arm reminding him why he was here, alone. His right hand—once a weapon of precision and power—was now a disfigured wreck. The injury had ended his career in a single devastating night.
---
The wealth remained, of course. The sponsorship deals, prize money, and lucrative contracts had left him with more money than he could spend in a lifetime. But what good was money when the one thing he loved had been taken from him?
Leon poured himself a glass of whiskey and sank into the oversized leather couch. He stared at the fire flickering in the grand stone hearth, the only source of warmth in the vast, cold house.
His phone buzzed on the coffee table. He ignored it. Calls these days were either reporters digging for a story, acquaintances pretending to care, or promoters asking him to make some pathetic appearance for "the fans."
He took another sip, letting the burn of the whiskey distract him. His eyes wandered to the corner of the room, where a sleek black capsule sat, gleaming in the dim light.
---
The capsule had been an impulse buy, delivered on a whim a few weeks ago. He'd heard about Ethereal World Online in passing, some VR game that had taken the world by storm. The idea of diving into a place where no one knew who he was—where his ruined hand didn't matter—had appealed to him more than he wanted to admit.
He set the whiskey glass down and approached the capsule.
"Why not," he muttered. It wasn't like he had anything better to do.
The capsule opened with a hiss, and Leon climbed inside, the cushions molding to his frame. He placed the neural link over his head and felt a brief surge of static, like a current running through his mind.
[Welcome to Ethereal World Online.]
The words appeared in his vision, bright and inviting. A rush of colors and sounds enveloped him, and when the sensation faded, Leon found himself standing in the middle of a sunlit field.
He looked down at his hands. They were whole. Strong. Perfect.
He flexed his fingers, marveling at the lack of pain.
"First time?"
Leon turned to see a man leaning against a tree, a smirk on his face. "You've got that look. Lost, but curious."
Leon gave a faint smile. "Something like that."
"You picked a class yet?" the man asked, gesturing to a hovering menu in front of Leon.
Leon opened the menu, scrolling through the options: warrior, mage, ranger, rogue… None of them felt right. His eyes stopped on one near the bottom.
Class: Brawler
Specialty: Hand-to-hand combat, counterattacks, overwhelming force.
Leon grinned. "This one."
The man whistled. "Brawler, huh? Not many people choose that. Guess you like getting up close and personal."
"You could say that."
---
The city gates loomed in the distance, the sounds of bustling trade and clashing steel growing louder as Leon approached. For the first time in years, he felt… alive. Here, no one cared about Leon Kane, the injured boxer.
In Ethereal World Online, he wasn't broken. He wasn't a fallen champion.
He was just a fighter.
End of Chapter