Chapter 3: The Unlikely Opponent

After the fighters got out of the cage, one of them was dragged out, and another guy entered.

He looked like someone's dad, with a beer belly and a stubble beard.

Damon was about to get in when Joey pulled him back. "What are you doing? Take off that jacket," Joey said.

Staring at his jacked, he realized he hadn't taken off his worn-out jacket in years when he looked down at it.

He slowly took it off, showing off his skinny, unhealthy arms. Joey was shocked and his eyes got really big, how can someone be this skinny?

Damon got in the cage, and the moment the crowd saw him, they broke into chatter. "The fuck? Did Chris and Joey get some sick kid to fight? I didn't pay for this shit." One of the people in the crowd shouted. Damon looked around, feeling self-conscious.

Unlike the others, he saw the man he was going to fight didn't have on any gloves. "Where are the fighting gloves?" Damon asked glaring at the bare hands.

The man looked at him smiling. "I don't need them. You can wear them if you want, but don't expect me to. Now, boy, let's fight."

A lot of people laughed and jeered. For that reason, Damon's face got hot with shame.

He looked at his opponent, who had a confident smile on his face.

Damon realized he was in for a tough fight.

After they rang a small bell, Damon stepped back and put up his fist as a weak defense.

He looked like the most non-intimidating person in the cage, with his skinny arms and frail frame, and... stance, if you even wanted to call it a stance.

The man didn't even spare a moment to size him up; he went straight for the attack, throwing punches like a maniac.

Damon's eyes widened as he struggled to block the punches, his hands shaking with fear. He couldn't help but get flashbacks of his dad's brutal beatings.

He put his hands in front of his face to block the punch, but the man's fist landed squarely on his chin.

Everyone was surprised when Damon stayed upright. He staggered back, tears welling up from the pain.

Cheers and jeers broke out from the audience, their voices full of excitement and thirst for blood.

Not slowing down, Damon's opponent delivered another punch that knocked him staggered backward.

With his limbs flinging wildly as he attempted to keep on his feet, resembling a rag doll.

Damon looked quickly around the cage, wanting to get out.

He spotted an opening and threw a kick, but the moment his shin hit the guy's leg, he felt a searing pain.

The man used Damon's short-lived attention to throw another poorly planned punch.

This one landed squarely on Damon's cheek, sending him stumbling back.

There was blood everywhere, and everyone went crazy. Someone yelled, "He's not even blocking, this motherfucker!"

"No one blocks here anyway, but he's eating those punches away. That kid can take a punch for real!"

Damon didn't want to give up, even though his face was covered in blood and cuts.

He threw a wild punch, but his opponent caught it and countered with a vicious uppercut. Damon's head snapped back, his eyes rolling into the back of his head.

The crowd was on its feet, screaming for more.

The man hit Damon again, and he stumbled backwards, his eyes going cloudy.

He stood his ground and wouldn't budge. Each of the man's punches sent a painful thud through the air.

Joey and Chris were watching the fight with wide eyes from a nearby corner.

It was hard for Chris to believe what Joey was telling him. "What the fuck kind of crackhead did you get me? This guy is crazy!" It shocked Joey too, and he asked himself, "Am I a natural scout?" I told you I'll find the right guy, and I'm sure this will work out well."

Chris nodded in agreement, his eyes looking on the fight. "Don't get it twisted, the guy is bad at fighting, Well everyone here is bad at fighting, but this guy is worse. However, to eat punches from a guy triple his size is insane." He glanced at the crowd, cheering and chanting for more.

Chris wondered if he brought the guy to fight again, maybe he might make even more money off the entrance fee.

The crowd was crazy and excited, and you could feel it. Both Joey and Chris looked at each other and agreed: this was a goldmine.

The fact that this guy is willing to take a beating could make them a lot of money.

As the fight went on, Damon stumbled around the cage, blood all over his face.

Joey leaned in, but it was hard to hear him. "We need to get him to fight again," he said. " This will make us a lot of bag."

Chris nodded, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "You talk to him, see if we can set up another fight." Joey grinned, his mind already going over the possibilities. "This is going to be big, Chris. Really big."

Back in the fight, Damon's mind was shot as he tried to throw his own punch.

But when he hit the guy on the chin, he didn't move. He just ate the punch like he had one of his before.

Damon's body shook with fear as his eyes grew wide in shock.

With a look of frustration on his face, the guy snatched him up and hurled him to the ground before he could react.

The guy's punches came raining down on Damon's face, each one landing with disturbing sounf.

There was blood everywhere, turning the grass red. The hits to Damon's head made his mind spin.

He felt himself being pulled back into the darkness, the same darkness he had experienced countless times before.

The guy had to be pulled off of him by other people.

But not before he took a few more swings. Damon's head rang, his vision blurry.

He was back in the living room, on the floor, and his father was hitting him hard.

It was the same hopelessness and fear that felt he was going to die that hit him.

Suddenly, he heard a sound -

[EMMAC SYSTEM ACTIVATED]

Everything went black, and Damon was out.

People in the crowd gasped and kept quiet in shock. Joey and Chris looked at each other with worry. What had just happened? Was the guy okay?

They didn't want death on their hands