Ghost in the Underground

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Chapter 16: Fight Night

The underground venue was packed.

Unlike the dingy warehouse where Sammy fought Axel Kane, this place had an actual cage—steel fencing, a hard mat, and bright overhead lights that gave the illusion of a real arena.

But this wasn't a sanctioned fight.

This was a war zone.

Sammy walked through the crowd, Carlos and Rick beside him. Whispers followed them.

"That's Ghost?"

"Yeah, the boxer. He's fighting Leon."

"He's dead."

Sammy ignored it. He was used to being overlooked.

They reached the fighter's area, where Leon Graves was already warming up.

Golden Boy looked sharp. His hands moved fast as he shadowboxed, footwork crisp. Everything about him screamed 'professional.'

Leon saw Sammy and smirked. "Glad you showed up."

Sammy rolled his neck. "You thought I wouldn't?"

Leon shrugged. "Wouldn't blame you."

He turned back to his warm-up. Dismissive. Like Sammy was a formality before his next big fight.

Rick muttered under his breath. "Man, I can't wait to see his face when you drop him."

Carlos grinned. "Patience."

Sammy exhaled slowly. No nerves. No doubt. Just focus.

The announcer's voice boomed over the speakers.

"Introducing first—standing at 5'11, weighing 170 pounds—Leon 'Golden Boy' Graves!"

Cheers erupted. Leon was the favorite. The clean-cut, disciplined fighter everyone expected to win.

"And his opponent—standing at 5'9, weighing 165 pounds—Sammy 'Ghost' Vega!"

The reaction was mixed. Some cheers, some boos. The underdog.

Sammy stepped into the cage. Leon's eyes locked onto him, sharp and calculating.

The referee gave a brief warning. "No biting, no eye gouging. Everything else goes."

Then—the bell rang.

Round 1

Leon moved first.

He came in fast, snapping out a lightning-quick jab.

Sammy blocked, stepped back—and Leon was already throwing a low kick.

CRACK.

It slammed into Sammy's thigh, sending a sharp jolt of pain through his leg. Fast. Precise. Efficient.

Leon didn't stop. He feinted high, then threw another low kick.

Sammy barely checked it in time.

This wasn't like fighting Axel.

Leon wasn't just fast—he was systematic. Every strike was part of a larger sequence, meant to set up something worse.

Sammy needed to break that rhythm.

Leon threw another kick.

This time, Sammy stepped in and grabbed him.

He locked up a clinch, pressing Leon against the fence.

Leon struggled—but Sammy was already throwing punches.

Short, brutal body shots. Not clean boxing—dirty boxing. He dug his knuckles into Leon's ribs, slammed a forearm into his face.

Leon twisted, trying to escape—but Sammy held on.

He wasn't playing by Leon's rules.

The crowd reacted—they weren't expecting this.

Leon finally broke free, shoving Sammy back. His smirk was gone.

Round 2

The bell rang.

Leon adjusted his stance. He knew now—this wasn't going to be easy.

This time, Sammy moved first.

He slipped inside Leon's reach, cutting off angles, smothering him.

Leon tried a knee—Sammy blocked and threw an elbow.

It smashed into Leon's cheek.

The first real damage of the fight.

Leon staggered back. The crowd gasped.

Sammy pressed forward, not letting him recover.

He threw hooks, body shots, more elbows. A street fight inside the cage.

Leon covered up, trying to reset—but this wasn't a game anymore.

Sammy wasn't just boxing.

He was fighting.

Leon snapped out a jab, aiming for Sammy's nose, but Sammy slipped inside, pressing his forehead against Leon's chest. No space. No breathing room.

Sammy worked the body, hammering hooks into Leon's ribs. Each punch dug deep, forcing Leon to gasp.

Leon grabbed Sammy's arm, trying to frame off, but Sammy twisted out, ripping an uppercut into his jaw.

Leon stumbled.

Sammy saw the opening and pounced—a right cross, straight into Leon's temple.

CRACK.

Leon wobbled, eyes unfocused.

The crowd roared.

Rick slammed his hands on the cage. "That's it! Keep going!"

Carlos, always calm, nodded. "Don't rush."

Sammy feinted a right, then threw a left hook.

Leon barely dodged. He was recovering.

Sammy had to finish this before Leon adjusted again.

Round 3

Leon breathed heavy as the bell rang. Sammy wasn't tired.

Leon knew it.

He came out desperate, throwing wild shots. A head kick. A spinning elbow. A desperate knee.

Sammy dodged, slipped, countered.

Then—the perfect shot.

Leon threw another jab.

Sammy dipped low—and launched a left hook.

BOOM.

It crashed into Leon's jaw. His head snapped sideways—and his legs gave out.

He crumpled.

The ref jumped in.

FIGHT OVER.

Silence.

Then, an explosion of noise.

Sammy stepped back, breathing steady. No celebration. No gloating. Just another step forward.

Rick and Carlos rushed into the cage, slapping him on the back.

"You did it!" Rick laughed. "Ghost just put Golden Boy to sleep!"

Sammy looked down at Leon. His eyes were open, but his body wouldn't move.

Sammy nodded once. Then he turned, walking out of the cage.

The underground just got its first real look at Sammy Vega.

And they weren't ignoring him anymore.

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End of Chapter 16

Next up: Chapter 17 - The Fall of the Golden Boy