Chương 54: VOLUME 2 PROLOGUE

Prologue My mother took my little brother out of the changing room without even a 'good luck', and it is just me and Dad. My scruffy grey-haired pa squatted down and tied my wraps, looking me in the eyes.

"Ready, boy?"

"Always," I answered without hesitation. My father put his hand on my shoulder. In my ear, he whispered.

"Take it long."

"What!? What do you mean 'take it long'?"

"Shhh!" My dad looked around.

"Go the distance, not too much damage on the man, then around the third round… let him win."

"Really, Dad?!" I whispered back, my eye still watching my Irish opponent arrive in the cage on the TV screen.

"After all we have worked for! I am finally getting eyes on me!" My father grabbed my face like always, his smile curled up high like a demon.

"Fuck eyes! FUCK ATTENTION! We have a chance at money! Gooood money! Enough to make raising you worth it!" Father patted my shoulders several times.

"Fuck the UFC. This is how the big boys make the money!" Greed made his eye hollow I wonder how much he bet this time.

"Dad… I can make it… I can really make it! I actually have what it takes." A slap brought no sense. Only anger.

"What are you saying, boy?! You ACTUALLY have talent unlike your PA!?" I kept quiet, still feeling the blow. My dad stood up on old knees.

"You have been raised to be strong, to endure. To do whatever it takes for the family… I raised you to be a warrior I couldn't be. In life, there are sacrifices one must make for the family. Your brother is doing well at his school…then University is next…" A new handbag for Mum. A new car to boast to his mates. A new PlayStation for my brother that I can't touch.

"For the family, boy." My father began to walk to the door but paused at my question.

"Will this be the last time?" I asked.

"... Do as you're told, boy." The door slammed closed Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. I breathed in, calming the storm that brewed within, and eventually followed my dad. However, one thought repeated in my head. It doesn't hurt as much. Going out to the song "Feels Good" by Gorillaz, I shadow-boxed my way to the stage.

An official checked me for any weapons or stuffing in my gloves Barefoot, I stepped on the six-sided stage, where animals ravage each other. The iron in the air brought a high I can never describe to normal men. My opponent watched as I prowled, touching the cage. My brother's cheers were growing quieter. My father's voice was all I heard.

"Kill 'em, son! KILL 'EM" I shook my head as an announcer shouted to hundreds who booed, mocking my brutish appearance.

"Arriving at a comfortable 182 pounds! Counterpuncher with a KO punch, hailed as the next great British talent! THE DRAGON: TOMMY SMITH!!!!" Boos rained on me as I warmed up. Oscar McKee. Lethal left. Can switch into wrestling on a dime. We meet and bump fists. But Oscar grabbed mine.

"Do as Papa says, or there will be consequences." Oscar nodded his tattooed head in my brother's direction. He still cheered for me. He let my glove go before the referees noticed, smirking his way to his side. A leash that bound me snapped. Go the distance… Okay. Round 4 was a minute from ending, and there were already cries from the audience to throw in the towel. Boos hurled gave me energy as I punched more welts into Oscar's.

"Mate, answer the fucking question. What consequences?!" I dodged a right jab, but it was a feint to tackle me. A knee did him in. His face crumpled like a dropped Greggs pie. I cackled as two more knees followed, crushing his face into paste.

"THREATEN MY BROTHER, YA BASTARD!" Even as he dropped, the fists never missed his descending face. My fists kept going until my mitts were caked in Oscar's blood. All I can hear is horror and shock. But I never felt so free.

"CONSEQUENCES FOR WHO! FOR WHOOO!" I looked to my corner at a man aghast and laughed in his face. This is what you raise, a warrior. Aren't you proud yet? Oscar McKee. 25. The first man I 'killed'. He died slowly, made incapable of forming words and eating on his own, but I know I killed him. A day later, I would find my dad hanging. His nose was still white from his last bender. House gone, car gone. Mother had given up on us. Just my brother and I in a hostel.

There were days I would cry to my brother, begging him for forgiveness, and he would just say to me, "They won't hurt you any more." Which ended up making me cry more. I remember those hostel days fondly, as they were my first introduction to comics and manhwa. Stuff that I was banned from but my brother wasn't because he 'performed well'. Soon, my brother and I were separated, with him being sent to a kinder family to live with. A family that didn't see his intelligence as a way to level up. I was alone.

But I finally got the freedom I sought. Freedom from the daily workout that made the soles of my feet bleed. Free from training that gave me multiple concussions. Free from that bastard. But with no A levels and my name tarnished, what can a 19-year-old do? That was when I found an advert and made the worst decision of my life.