82 Scored Six Times: A Promise for the Championship Game

The air crackled with anticipation as Ye Chen secured a victory against Oliveira, instantly becoming a beacon of hope for fans longing to see someone break the Eagles' impressive undefeated streak. The crowd responded with a chorus of boos mixed with murmurs of excitement, eager for a new narrative.

Taking center stage, Ye Chen confidently addressed the audience, microphone in hand. "If the doctor clears me after this fight, I'm ready to step into the ring at any moment. All it takes is for Islam to be willing to sign the contract. That championship belt? It's destined to be mine."

Ye Chen's air of confidence rendered a formation call unnecessary; no harsh words were needed this time. Backstage, the usual protocol of interviews and celebrity photos commenced. Although he didn't particularly crave attention, Ye Chen understood its importance in boosting his profile. He was aware that many of the celebrities present were genuine fight fans, while others were simply friends of Dana, who tirelessly worked to ensure they received complimentary tickets through his connections.

It was clear that refusing to engage in the publicity stunt could lead to a significant headache for Dana, and he didn't want to contribute to that turmoil.

In the prep room, as Ye Chen underwent a routine examination, Catwoman rummaged through a UFC-branded bag, raising an eyebrow at the sparse contents. "Is this really all you brought?" she questioned, revealing boxing gloves and a basic outfit.

"Of course, we're here for a fight, not a vacation. Why would I bring anything more?" Ye Chen shot back incredulously. He was uniquely independent compared to other UFC athletes—traveling solo, lacking a team or even a car, which certainly limited his baggage.

"Everything seems fine," the doctor concluded after his examination, reporting no obvious injuries. After a few more words, he exited the room. Ye Chen turned to Catwoman, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Now that the coast is clear, isn't wearing your mask a bit cumbersome? Are you shy?"

As he reached toward her mask, Catwoman quipped, "Let's focus on your hygiene first—you reek of sweat and blood!"

Ye Chen chuckled, realizing his post-fight appearance was nothing short of dreadful. The locker room had a private bathing area, akin to a small luxury suite. "Alright, I'll shower. Feel free to keep yourself entertained while I do."

After locking the door behind him, Ye Chen stepped into the shower. Meanwhile, Catwoman began to remove her mask, letting out a deep breath. "I can finally breathe!" she exclaimed, pondering Ye Chen's reaction when he eventually saw her without the disguise.

As she sifted through his earlier clothes and the additional set he'd packed, she glanced at her phone and exclaimed, "Ye Chen, your follower count has skyrocketed—over 20 million now!"

But just then, a sharp noise echoed from the bathroom followed by silence. Alarmed, Catwoman sprang to her feet. "Ye Chen! Are you okay? Did you fall?" Panic tinted her voice.

With no answer, her anxiety spiked. After all, Ye Chen had just fought, and though the doctor had declared him injury-free, there was still a risk of internal injuries. Rushing to the bathroom door, she flung it open, only to be pulled inside unexpectedly.

In the cramped space, she was met by a grinning Ye Chen, standing unharmed. "You really thought I'd hurt myself?" he teased, right before she playfully jabbed him in the arm.

Ye Chen stood there in just a pair of shorts, teasing her as they had shared numerous moments of intimacy before. But as she surveyed the scene, her expression shifted from surprise to realization. She gingerly touched her face and laughed, having just realized her mask was gone. "Oh, so that was the big reveal? You're not going to pass out, are you?"

"Pinch me, I might just wake up from this dream."

Catwoman laughed, pinching his chest lightly. "Am I that unbelievable?"

Ye Chen's smile faltered slightly. He had assumed Catwoman was merely playing a role, never suspecting the person behind the mask. As her laughter filled the small room, he slowly began to piece together the truth.

"Hey, get out of my space! We really ought to head back," Catwoman insisted, pushing gently against him.

But Ye Chen wasn't having it. The intimate nature of the moment lingered as they remained close in that tiny bathroom.

Soon, they retrieved their belongings in the prep room, where an awkward silence hung palpably. Today marked a significant turning point; for the first time, Ye Chen learned Catwoman's true identity, which added layers to their connection that had previously felt casual at best.

Ye Chen offered her his T-shirt. "Here, you can wear this—it's not like you haven't worn my clothes before," she joked after a playful nudge.

"Just let me know when you're ready to go." He placed a call to Dana's driver, ensuring he didn't need to wait and could head out ahead.

"You must be exhausted. Let's make a swift exit," Catwoman suggested with a laugh, slipping into her clothes.

Once dressed, Ye Chen wrapped his arms around Catwoman from behind. "So, where to? Are we sticking with the hotel, or do you have something else in mind?"

Catwoman smiled and turned to face him, placing a playful kiss on his lips. "Let's ditch the hotel. Come home with me; it's way more comfortable than staying at a hotel. Also, I recall you mentioning some pain in your ribs earlier—I'll join you at the hospital for a quick check tomorrow."

"Is that really feasible?" Ye Chen raised an eyebrow, aware of her celebrity status and the complications it might entail.

"Absolutely, I'll just wear a mask. You wouldn't mind," she smiled, leading him to her villa in the trendy mountain area.

In this affluent part of the city, wealthy individuals often invest in real estate, and Catwoman was no exception. Though she didn't reside here full-time, her purchase reflected a wise investment, keeping the property well-maintained through staff.

As they entered her stunning villa, Ye Chen couldn't help but feel out of place. Though he had amassed wealth recently, nothing compared to the lavish atmosphere surrounding him. Catwoman's eyes sparkled with warmth as she glanced at him.

"What's with that look? Did you expect something different?" she teased, preparing an elaborate meal in her open kitchen. "I figured you'd need a good meal after all the excitement."

"The surprise is you're cooking for me?" he inquired, affected by the unexpected culinary gesture.

"Of course! What else did you think?"

With the scents of simmering ingredients filling the air, Ye Chen realized that despite the exhilaration of his recent victory, his appetite had yet to be sated.

The following day, he found himself in a private hospital—Dana's chosen facility. The UFC president was more focused on Ye Chen's health than his own. With a gleaming reputation for offering top-notch medical care for fighters, Dana ensured that Ye Chen had immediate access to expertise before and after each match.

A doctor with a salt-and-pepper beard reviewed the scans and medical paperwork. "Are you involved in boxing?" he inquired.

Ye Chen nodded in confirmation, growing curious.

The doctor gently felt around his ribs, causing Ye Chen to wince slightly. "I think there's some swelling here," he noted, before delivering the inevitable news. "We might be looking at bone bruising or even fractures. For someone like you, that could mean avoiding rigorous activity for at least a month."

Ye Chen frowned, anxiety creeping in, but he relaxed upon realizing the issue was manageable. As an experienced fighter, he had navigated worse before.

Suddenly, Catwoman broke the brief tension with a giggle, causing both men to glance at her in bewilderment.

"Sorry, I just thought of something funny," she apologized, raising her hand to indicate a secret gesture that only Ye Chen comprehended.

Shrugging off the doctor's serious demeanor, he felt a weight lift from his shoulders. The fractures weren't as debilitating as they could have been.

More than ten days passed. Ye Chen noticed no sensation of distress in his body, though the doctor remained firm in his assessment that Ye Chen was still recovering.

Laying by the private pool of Catwoman's villa, Ye Chen basked in the sun when suddenly his phone rang. "Hey, Dana, I'm here. What's up?"

Dana's voice chimed with excitement from the other line. "Ye Chen, the latest fees from your last bout have just hit your account; Oliveira's overweight compensation and other earnings are all in there."

"Thanks for the heads-up. Let me check," Ye Chen replied, glancing at his phone with anticipation.

Just then, Catwoman appeared, playfully pushing her damp hair back as she splashed around in the pool.

Amidst their newfound intimacy, Ye Chen refocused on his phone and gasped when he saw the figures. His earnings had skyrocketed—over 8 million dollars from the event. With more than 40 million generated in PPV sales, his match had drawn an incredible amount of attention.

Dana had made the right call; Ye Chen's impact on the UFC had positioned him as a titan in the sport, rivaling the likes of Connor, who traditionally drew in crowds like no other.

"That's incredible—just what I thought would happen!" Ye Chen exclaimed, mentally tallying the achievements.

"Glad to see you're doing so well!" Dana replied, a mixture of amusement and pride evident in his tone. "Now, as for your championship match, how's your health holding up?"

"The doc says it'll take about two to three weeks for full recovery, but we should be in good shape for scheduling the next match."

Dana paused, pondering his response. "Makhachev is ready, and the venue is at his home stadium in Abu Dhabi. Are you up for it?"

Ye Chen nodded with confidence. "Absolutely. Just keep me posted."

With their conversation winding down, Dana reminded Ye Chen, "Be prepared for some hype around this match—it's going to be big, especially since Khabib is aiming to rally support for Makhachev. Just keep your cool; it's all in good spirit."

Ye Chen chuckled internally, confident in his understanding of the promotional game. His focus remained on winning; the drama would just be theatrics leading up to the bout. In this world of fighters and fans, he was ready to make his mark.