Ghost in the Underground

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Chapter 20: The Price of Victory

After the Fight

The warehouse was still buzzing. The Wolf had fallen, and The Ghost had risen.

Sammy felt it in the air—the shift.

The crowd's reaction was different now. No longer dismissing him as an underdog. Now they were watching. Measuring. Some with respect. Others with something more dangerous.

Greed. Jealousy. Opportunity.

Carlos patted his shoulder. "You're on the map now, kid."

Rick grinned. "Yeah, but that means they're gonna come for you."

Sammy didn't respond. He just looked down at his knuckles. Bloodied. Swollen. Shaking.

Winning didn't mean rest.

It meant what came next was even worse.

---

Back in the locker room—if you could call it that—Sammy sat on a wooden bench, wrapping ice in a towel and pressing it to his right hand. It ached. Bad.

Carlos stood against the wall, arms crossed. "You alright?"

Sammy nodded. "Yeah."

Carlos exhaled. "Listen… You did good. But you need to understand something."

Sammy looked up.

Carlos's eyes were serious. "What happened out there? That wasn't just a fight. It was a challenge."

Sammy frowned. "I know."

Carlos shook his head. "No, you don't."

He leaned in. "Marcus was the guy in this circuit. You just knocked him out in front of everyone. You embarrassed him."

Sammy tightened the ice wrap around his hand.

Carlos continued. "Now people see you as a name. Fighters who were below Marcus? They think they can take you out and steal your spot. And Marcus? If he's not done, he's gonna come back harder."

Rick chuckled from the side. "Basically, you just put a target on your back."

Sammy exhaled. He already knew it.

This was how it worked.

Respect in the underground came with blood. And the moment you earned it?

Someone was always waiting to take it away.

---

They left the warehouse through the side entrance. The city was cold, damp, the streets empty except for a few stragglers heading home from the fight.

Then a voice called out.

"Yo, Ghost."

Sammy turned.

A fighter leaned against the alley wall, arms folded. Lean build. Sharp eyes. Knuckles taped.

Miguel "Slicer" Cortez.

A lightweight fighter, fast, known for his razor-sharp elbows and nasty clinch work.

He smirked. "Hell of a fight."

Sammy nodded, saying nothing.

Miguel stepped forward. "You look tired. That fight take a lot outta you?"

Carlos groaned. "What do you want, Miguel?"

Miguel ignored him. "I'm just saying… Maybe Ghost got lucky tonight. Maybe next time, his luck runs out."

Sammy met his eyes. "You wanna test that theory?"

Miguel grinned. "Not tonight. But soon."

Then he turned and walked off.

Carlos sighed. "And there it is."

Rick smirked. "Told you. Target on your back."

Sammy just cracked his knuckles.

Fine.

Let them come.

---

The next morning, Sammy showed up to Lopez's Gym early.

Carlos was already there, stretching. "You sure about this? Your hand's messed up."

Sammy unwrapped the bandage on his knuckles. The swelling had gone down, but the pain was still there.

Carlos threw him a pair of gloves. "Alright. We work on defense today. Less impact."

Sammy put the gloves on. "Fine."

Carlos grinned. "Good. 'Cause I'm gonna beat your ass."

---

Carlos moved in fast.

Jab. Jab. Hook.

Sammy slipped the first two but took the hook on his guard.

Carlos smirked. "Slicer's a clinch fighter. He's gonna close distance, tie you up, then cut you open with elbows."

Sammy nodded. "Yeah."

Carlos moved in again. This time, he clinched.

Immediate pressure. Head control. Elbows loaded.

Sammy gritted his teeth. This was what Miguel would do.

Carlos whispered, "If you don't break this, you're dead."

Then he threw an elbow.

Sammy barely blocked, then slammed his forearm into Carlos's neck and shoved free.

Carlos grinned. "Better."

Training continued.

Clinches. Takedown defense. Framing inside.

Sammy knew he couldn't fight Miguel like he did Marcus.

This time, he had to be ready for the inside war.

---

Later that night, Sammy sat outside the gym, wrapping his hands in fresh tape.

His phone buzzed. Unknown number.

He hesitated. Then answered.

Silence.

Then a voice.

"You think it's over?"

Sammy's grip tightened. Marcus.

The Wolf's voice was calm, but there was something underneath it. Anger.

"You embarrassed me in front of everyone," Marcus said. "I don't take that lightly."

Sammy stayed quiet.

Marcus chuckled. "Enjoy your win. It won't last."

Then the call ended.

Sammy exhaled.

He had beaten Marcus.

But the fight wasn't over.

Not by a long shot.

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End of Chapter 20

Next up: Chapter 21 – The Trap is Set

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