---
Chapter 6: Blood on the Canvas
Colima had many shadows, but none darker than the underground fighting tournaments. They were whispered about in alleyways and bars, brutal competitions where young fighters brawled for fame, money, and survival. The rules were simple: there were none. It was a test of strength, skill, and endurance, often leaving losers with shattered bones—or worse.
Lex Navarro first heard about the tournament from Marco.
"You've been doing good, Navarro," Marco said one night, flicking a cigarette onto the pavement. "Real good. But selling powder isn't enough to get you noticed. You want to prove you've got what it takes? I've got something that'll make people remember your name."
Marco leaned closer, his voice lowering. "There's a tournament coming up. All fighters under fifteen. No guns, no knives, just fists. You win, you walk out with millions of pesos. You lose… well, don't lose."
Lex raised an eyebrow. "What's in it for you?"
Marco smirked. "Street cred. If our guy wins, it's a message to everyone that Los Soles don't just run the streets—we dominate them. And if you win, you'll be one of us for real."
The offer was as dangerous as it was enticing. Lex knew he couldn't refuse—not if he wanted to keep Marco's favor.
---
The tournament was more than just a street fight. It was a spectacle, attracting gang leaders, smugglers, and even corrupt politicians. The prize money wasn't just an incentive—it was a statement. In a city where pesos could mean the difference between life and death, millions were enough to change everything.
Lex understood the weight of the offer. One million pesos was roughly $50,000 USD, and the tournament offered ten times that amount to the winner. It wasn't just about money, though. It was about reputation. Winning would cement his place in Colima's underworld and earn him the respect he craved.
But it also meant risking his life.
---
Marco introduced Lex to his trainer, a grizzled ex-fighter named Tomas who ran a gym on the outskirts of the city. Tomas was a man of few words, but his presence commanded respect.
"You want to survive this tournament?" Tomas asked, his voice rough as gravel. "You listen to me. No shortcuts. No excuses."
The first day of training nearly broke Lex. Tomas didn't just teach him to throw punches—he taught him how to endure pain, how to think under pressure, and how to exploit an opponent's weaknesses.
"Strength isn't enough," Tomas said, wrapping Lex's hands. "You've got to be smart. A smarter fighter can beat a stronger one every time."
The sessions were brutal. Mornings began with runs through the dusty streets of Colima, followed by hours of sparring, bag work, and conditioning. By the time the sun set, Lex's body was a collection of bruises and aches. But he pushed through, fueled by a mixture of fear and ambition.
---
The night of the tournament arrived quicker than Lex expected. The venue was an abandoned warehouse, its walls echoing with the shouts of the crowd. The ring, a makeshift structure of ropes and wooden planks, stood under a single flickering light.
Marco and his men accompanied Lex, their presence a reminder of the stakes. "Remember," Marco said, clapping him on the shoulder. "This isn't just about you. You win, we all win. Don't let us down."
Lex didn't respond. His focus was on the fighters warming up around the ring. Most were boys his age, though some looked older, their eyes hardened by years of street violence.
When Lex's name was called, the crowd erupted into a mix of cheers and jeers. He stepped into the ring, his hands steady despite the adrenaline coursing through his veins.
---
Lex's first opponent was a burly kid named Raul, whose size drew gasps from the crowd. Raul wasted no time, charging at Lex with a flurry of wild punches. But Lex had been trained to think, not just react. He sidestepped the blows, landing a sharp jab to Raul's ribs.
The fight was brutal and short. Raul's strength was no match for Lex's precision. By the end of the second round, Raul was on the ground, clutching his side as the referee declared Lex the winner.
The crowd roared, and for the first time, Lex felt the intoxicating power of their approval. But he knew this was only the beginning.
---
Back in the locker room, Tomas met him with a grim nod. "You did good, but don't get cocky. The next fight will be tougher."
Lex nodded, his fists still aching from the fight. He didn't need Tomas to remind him of the stakes. The prize money, the respect, the future he was building—it all depended on him surviving the next round.
As he rested, his mind wandered to his family. He thought of Rosa and Sofia, asleep in their small home, unaware of what he was doing to change their lives. He wasn't just fighting for himself—he was fighting for them.
The night stretched on, the fights growing bloodier and the stakes higher. Lex wiped the blood from his face and stepped back into the ring, ready for whatever came next.
---