Chapter 12 – Shadows in the Ring

Ethan's breath came slow and controlled as he wrapped his fists, sitting on an old wooden bench in the corner of The Cage. The dim light flickered overhead, casting long shadows on the concrete floor. His muscles still ached from yesterday's sparring, but he was getting used to the pain.

More than that, he was starting to crave it.

A week ago, he was just another nobody getting thrown around in this underground gym. Now, he was different. Stronger. Sharper. The bruises on his ribs faded faster than before. His endurance had nearly doubled. And every fight, every blow exchanged, was making him evolve.

But he wasn't satisfied.

He needed more.

Scarface had been watching him closely all week, occasionally throwing him into matches against tougher opponents. Ethan had taken his fair share of beatings, but each time, the System adapted. His body adjusted. His reflexes sharpened.

Now, the murmurs had started.

"That new kid… he learns too fast."

"He took down Kane in his first fight. That ain't normal."

Ethan ignored the whispers, but he felt it. Eyes were on him.

Not just from the fighters.

From someone else.

"You're up next."

Scarface's voice pulled him from his thoughts. Ethan looked up to see the man standing by the ring, smirking. His cigarette dangled from his lips, glowing faintly in the dark.

"Who am I fighting?" Ethan asked, standing up and rolling his shoulders.

Scarface's grin widened.

"You'll see."

Ethan frowned but didn't argue. He stepped into the ring, rolling his neck as he bounced lightly on the balls of his feet. The crowd around the ring had grown since last night.

People were expecting something.

Then, his opponent stepped in.

And the moment Ethan saw him, he knew—this was different.

The man standing across from him was nothing like Kane or the other brawlers he had faced. He was lean, tall, and moved with the kind of precision that only came from years of training.

Dark eyes. A calm, unreadable expression. His hands were wrapped in clean, professional tape—not the usual street-fighter mess.

Someone in the crowd muttered.

"Shit. They're letting Bishop fight him?"

Ethan's pulse quickened.

Bishop.

A name that carried weight in The Cage. He had heard the stories—a ghost in the underground circuit. No wasted movements, no unnecessary strikes. A fighter who dismantled opponents piece by piece.

If Ethan wanted to push his limits, this was it.

Scarface clapped his hands.

"Alright, boys. No rounds, no refs. First one to go down or tap out loses."

He paused, then smirked.

"Try not to die."

Then he dropped his hand.

"Fight!"

Bishop moved first.

Ethan barely saw it—a blur of motion, too fast to react.

A sharp kick snapped toward his ribs. He barely blocked in time. The force sent a jolt through his arm. Fast. Precise. Powerful.

Muay Thai.

Bishop didn't stop. The moment Ethan blocked, a second kick came—this time to his thigh. Then a third, higher, aiming for his head.

Ethan dodged by inches, feeling the air shift past his face.

His heart pounded.

This wasn't a brawl. This was something else.

Bishop was testing him, looking for weaknesses.

Ethan tightened his stance. He had learned boxing. Street brawling. He had even picked up some defensive moves from other fights.

But Bishop wasn't just a fighter.

He was a hunter.

Ethan knew he needed to adapt—fast.

The next kick came, and this time, he didn't dodge.

He stepped into it.

The crowd gasped. Instead of retreating, Ethan closed the distance, throwing a lightning-fast jab at Bishop's face. A counterattack.

Bishop's eyes flickered in surprise, but he moved—just in time.

He tilted his head back, the punch grazing his chin.

But Ethan wasn't done.

The System was already analyzing Bishop's movements.

He threw a feint—a fake left hook. Bishop reacted, shifting his weight slightly. A tiny opening.

Ethan didn't hesitate.

He slammed his elbow into Bishop's ribs.

Bishop grunted, stumbling a step back. The crowd murmured.

Scarface let out a low whistle.

Ethan didn't give Bishop time to recover. He pressed forward, throwing a rapid combination of punches and low kicks.

For the first time, Bishop was on the defensive.

And then—

The System pinged.

[NEW SKILL DETECTED: MUAY THAI (ADVANCED). COPY?]

Ethan's breath caught.

Advanced?

Most of his copied skills so far were "Intermediate" or just barely "Advanced." But Bishop…

Bishop was on another level.

This was his chance.

"Yes."

[SKILL COPIED. INTEGRATING… COMPLETE.]

A rush of knowledge flooded Ethan's mind.

The way Bishop fought—the angles, the footwork, the brutal efficiency of Muay Thai—Ethan suddenly understood all of it.

His stance shifted instinctively.

And when Bishop lunged forward, aiming a knee at Ethan's ribs—

Ethan countered perfectly.

A sharp downward elbow strike met Bishop's knee mid-air.

Bishop's eyes widened in shock.

Ethan smirked.

"My turn."

The fight shifted.

Now, Ethan wasn't just reacting—he was controlling the pace.

He matched Bishop's movements, countering with precise kicks and devastating elbows. Every attack was calculated. Efficient. Deadly.

Bishop realized it too late.

He went for a clinch—a classic Muay Thai move.

But Ethan had seen it before.

Because now, he knew Muay Thai just as well as Bishop did.

He reversed the clinch seamlessly, pulling Bishop forward—

Then drove his knee into Bishop's stomach.

Bishop coughed, his body curling inward. A clean, perfect strike.

The crowd went silent.

Then, slowly, Bishop collapsed onto the mat, clutching his ribs.

The fight was over.

Ethan straightened, wiping sweat from his forehead. His body felt different. Stronger. More controlled.

Scarface let out a low laugh.

"Well, damn."

The crowd started murmuring again. Ethan ignored them.

Because as he turned to step out of the ring, he felt it.

A presence.

Someone was watching him.

Not the other fighters. Not Scarface.

Someone else.

His eyes flicked toward the back of the room.

A man in a dark suit stood there, half-hidden in the shadows. His expression was unreadable.

But the moment Ethan locked eyes with him—

He knew.

This man knew about the System.

And he wasn't just watching.

He was waiting.

Ethan exhaled, his hands tightening into fists.

The underground fights had made him stronger.

But now, the real game was beginning.

And whoever that man was—

He was part of it.

End of Chapter 12.