Chapter 10 – Entering the Underground

The streetlights flickered as Ethan walked down a narrow alleyway, his hoodie pulled up, blending into the shadows. He was following a name he had found on an obscure fight forum—The Cage.

It wasn't an official gym. No location, no website, no social media. Just whispers in underground fight circuits.

If you wanted in, you had to earn it.

And that's exactly what Ethan intended to do.

His lead had taken him to an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city. Rusted metal doors, graffiti-covered walls. The place looked deserted, but as he got closer, he heard it—

The unmistakable sound of fists hitting flesh.

Ethan pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The air was thick with sweat and tension. Dim overhead lights cast long shadows on the concrete floors. Fighters—some shirtless, others wrapped in sweat-soaked bandages—circled makeshift rings made of rope and old tires.

It was raw. Brutal. Real.

A few men turned to glance at him—new blood. Their stares were cold, unreadable.

Ethan kept his composure and walked toward the center of the room, where a fight was happening.

A man—huge, bald, a human tank—was systematically destroying his opponent. Each punch was calculated violence, breaking through weak defenses like paper.

The smaller fighter collapsed to the floor, groaning.

A slow clap echoed from the side.

Ethan turned his head.

A man sat on an old metal chair, watching everything with amusement. He was lean but dangerous-looking, with sharp eyes and a scar running from his brow to his cheek.

He stood up.

"New guy," he said, his voice calm but firm. "You looking for something?"

Ethan met his gaze. "I heard this is where the real fighters are."

The scarred man smirked. "That depends. You any good?"

Ethan shrugged. "Only one way to find out."

The man's smirk widened. "Alright, then. You want in?"

He gestured toward the center of the room.

"Get in the ring."

Ethan expected this. He knew they wouldn't just let him waltz in and train. He had to prove himself.

As he stepped into the ring, the scarred man clapped his hands. "Alright, boys. Who wants to welcome the new guy?"

From the crowd, a fighter stepped forward.

Tall. Muscular. His nose had clearly been broken multiple times, and his knuckles were wrapped in dirty, bloodstained tape.

Someone muttered, "Damn, they're throwing him against Kane?"

Ethan's stomach tightened. So, he had a reputation.

Kane rolled his shoulders and cracked his knuckles. "You sure about this, kid?"

Ethan exhaled, focusing. He had copied an advanced boxing skill. He had trained under Logan. He wasn't the same weakling he was before.

"I'm sure," he said, raising his fists.

The crowd circled in, eager to see the fight.

Scarface grinned. "Alright. No rounds. No refs. Just fight."

He dropped his hand.

"Go."

Kane charged forward like a bull.

Ethan barely had time to react before a fist came flying at his face.

Instinct kicked in.

He sidestepped at the last second, feeling the punch whizz past his cheek. The air pressure alone told him—this guy hit hard.

Kane didn't pause. He swung again.

This time, Ethan saw it. The movement, the weight shift—the opening.

Counter.

Ethan's fist snapped out, striking Kane's ribs. A sharp, precise shot—just like Logan taught him.

Kane grunted but didn't stop.

Instead, he grinned.

"Oh, you actually know how to fight?"

Then he came at Ethan twice as fast.

The next minute was a blur of fists and footwork.

Kane was relentless. He threw punches like a man used to knocking people out.

Ethan dodged, weaved, blocked—his mind processing everything at lightning speed.

He was adapting.

Each attack he dodged, each counter he threw—his body memorized it.

And then, the System pinged.

[NEW SKILL DETECTED: STREET BRAWLING (EXPERT). COPY?]

Ethan's heart raced.

Expert-level skill? This wasn't like boxing—this was something rougher, more instinctual, honed through real fights.

He didn't hesitate.

"Yes."

[SKILL COPIED. INTEGRATING… COMPLETE.]

A wave of understanding crashed into him.

The way Kane fought—his movements, his tricks, his dirty tactics—Ethan suddenly knew all of them.

And that changed everything.

The next time Kane attacked, Ethan didn't just dodge.

He countered perfectly.

A feint. A bait. A brutal hook to the liver.

Kane stumbled, his breath hitching.

The crowd murmured.

Ethan pressed forward, fighting smarter, sharper. He used the knowledge he had just gained—not just boxing, but the brutal efficiency of street fighting.

Elbows. Clinches. Precise body shots. He fought like he had been doing this for years.

And then—

BAM.

Ethan's fist slammed into Kane's jaw. A perfect strike.

Kane staggered. Then, with a final groan—he collapsed.

Silence.

For a long second, nobody spoke.

Then, Scarface started laughing.

"Shit," he muttered. "The kid's legit."

Murmurs spread through the crowd. Ethan took deep breaths, his heart still racing. He had done it.

Scarface walked up and clapped him on the shoulder.

"Welcome to The Cage."

Ethan didn't go home that night.

He stayed, watching, absorbing. He saw different styles, different techniques, different masters of their craft.

Boxers, kickboxers, grapplers—fighters from all backgrounds came here to train and test themselves.

And now, he was one of them.

This was just the beginning.

Ethan clenched his fists.

If the System was going to make him stronger, he was going to push it to the absolute limit.

And he knew exactly where to go next.

End of Chapter 10