Ghost in the Underground

Chapter 9: Blood on the Throne

The underground arena was still shaking from the aftermath. Fighters whispered among themselves. Bettors counted their winnings—or licked their wounds.

And Sammy?

Sammy could barely stand.

Carlos had to hold him up as they walked out of the ring. Every step sent a new wave of pain through his body. His ribs burned, his knuckles were raw, and his jaw throbbed from Dante's backfist.

But he had won.

He had beaten Dante "The Butcher" Moreno.

The man who ended careers.

The man who was supposed to break him.

Vinnie was already making his way toward them, a pleased smirk on his face.

"Hell of a fight, kid," Vinnie said, adjusting his suit. "Didn't think you had it in you."

Sammy wiped the blood from his mouth. "Neither did he."

Vinnie laughed. "That's what I like about you. You're not just tough—you're smart. You adapt."

He gestured around the room. "See all these guys? Most of 'em? They fight the same way every time. And that's why they lose."

Sammy exhaled, barely listening. His whole body screamed for rest.

Vinnie noticed. "Go home. Rest up. But when you're ready…" He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out another black card.

This one had a gold emblem on it.

"…come find me."

Sammy stared at it. "What's this?"

Vinnie's smirk widened. "Your next step."

Then he walked off, disappearing into the crowd.

Carlos grabbed Sammy's arm. "We're leaving."

Sammy didn't argue.

Back at the gym, Carlos helped Sammy into the locker room, sitting him down on the bench.

"You're a dumbass," Carlos muttered.

Sammy chuckled weakly. "You say that like it's new."

Carlos grabbed a bag of ice and pressed it against Sammy's ribs. "You should've lost that fight."

Sammy looked at him. "But I didn't."

Carlos shook his head. "That's not the point. You barely made it out. Another second, and he would've crushed you."

Sammy winced as Carlos taped up his ribs. "But I won."

Carlos tightened the tape. "Yeah. And now everyone is gonna want a piece of you."

Sammy leaned back, exhaling. He knew Carlos was right. Winning wasn't the end of the fight.

It was just the start of something bigger.

The next few days were a blur.

Word spread fast.

Dante was a name people feared. And Sammy had put him to sleep.

Now, the underground was buzzing. Every fighter looking to make a name for themselves had one name in their sights.

Sammy Rodriguez.

He could feel it in the way people looked at him. The way whispers followed him in every gym, every fight club, every back-alley ring.

And then the messages started coming in.

Unknown Number: Congrats on the win. Let's see if you can do it again.

Unknown Number: You're not the best yet. Prove it.

Unknown Number: Fights don't end in the ring, kid.

The last one made him pause.

Fights don't end in the ring?

A bad feeling settled in his gut.

Late that night, Carlos was waiting for him outside the gym. His face was tight. Serious.

"We need to talk."

Sammy leaned against the wall, exhausted. "About what?"

Carlos handed him a crumpled piece of paper. Sammy unfolded it.

It was a photo of him.

His face. His name.

And a price.

Carlos exhaled. "Someone just put a bounty on you."

Sammy's stomach dropped. "Who?"

Carlos shook his head. "Doesn't matter. What matters is that every hungry fighter in the underground is gonna be looking to cash in."

Sammy clenched his jaw. "Let 'em come."

Carlos grabbed his shoulder. "This isn't just about fighting anymore."

His eyes were serious.

"This is survival."

---

End of Chapter 9