G.R.O.W.T.H

~ Ethan's Pov, A few hours later... ~

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"I know you said today. But I didn't think you meant today-today, you know."

Ryan smirked. "Ha! Look who's nervous."

I should punch him in the face for that one. Of course I'd be nervous. I was about to step into some shady-ass underground fight ring where dudes beat the crap out of each other for sport and gambling.

And I?

I had never actually fought someone in a real match before.

Sure, I'd trained. Conditioned myself. Pushed myself to the absolute limits. But sparring with Ryan and getting into a full-blown fight with someone who probably did this for a living were two completely different things...

Ryan nudged my right shoulder, "Relax, man. You've been busting your ass off for two months, have some confidence. You're gonna be fine."

I let out a slow breath, cracking my fingers... "It's not losing I'm worried about."

Ryan raised an eyebrow, "Then what?"

I hesitated. Then shook my head. "Uh, nothing... Forget it."

Ryan studied me for a second before smirking, "Ohhh. I see."

I frowned. "See? See what?"

" Nothin' much... Only that you're worried you might be too strong, huh?" He crossed his arms. "Afraid you'll break some poor dude in half?"

I exhaled through my nose, "I don't know how far my strength actually goes yet. What if I misjudge it? What if I hit someone too hard?"

Ryan huffed. "Bro. You just said you don't even know if you're superhuman or just a freakishly fast learner. This is exactly how you find out."

I sighed, rubbing my temples. He... He wasn't wrong. But that didn't make it any less unsettling to me...

Ryan patted me on the back. "Look, just test the waters. It's your first match, hold back a little. See where you stand in the first few exchanges... If you're struggling? Just go a bit harder. If the other guy looks like he might die? Ease up. Simple."

I exhaled, rolling my neck, "Yeah. Simple."

Ryan grinned. "Atta boy. Now let's go before we miss the sign-up."

I nodded, following him toward the fight club entrance.

This was it. Time to see what I was really made of.

The underground fight club wasn't exactly the hellhole I expected, but it wasn't not shady either.

Dim lighting. The stench of sweat, beer, and something metallic—probably blood. The whole place buzzed with energy, guys hyping each other up, bets being made, the occasional smack of a fist meeting skin from a match already underway.

The ring itself wasn't even a real ring—just a wide-open space with mats on the floor and a bunch of dudes standing around it, waiting for the next fight.

I kept my hands in my pockets, looking around the room.

Then, I felt Ryan nudging at me. "Nervous yet?"

I snorted. "No. Just making sure I don't accidentally step on a tooth or something."

Ryan chuckled. "Fair. Alright, c'mon. We gotta get you signed up."

He led me toward a guy sitting behind a folding table near the back. Mid-40s, buzz cut, built like a damn tank. A clipboard in one hand, cigar in the other. He looked up as we approached, sizing me up like he was trying to decide if I'd last more than thirty seconds.

"You new?" he asked, voice rough.

I nodded. "Yeah."

He huffed out some smoke. "Name?"

"Umm... Ergo." It's just a nickname for now. No point in getting classy for this kind of thing.

He scribbled something down. "Weight class?"

I glanced at Ryan. He shrugged.

The guy raised an eyebrow... "You do know your own weight, right?"

I scratched my cheek. "Technically?"

Ryan sighed. "Dude, just put him in middleweight. We'll figure it out from there."

The guy grunted and wrote it down... "Fine. You're up in twenty." He gestured toward the waiting area. "Don't go missing on me. You miss your fight, you're out."

I nodded and stepped away, Ryan following.

As we moved through the crowd, I could feel a few guys glancing at me, sizing me up... Some looked completely uninterested. Others looked like they were already mentally spending the money they thought they'd win off me just losing.

Ryan grinned, elbowing me. "They think you're fresh meat."

I smiled, knowing that could be used to my advantage. "Good. Let's keep it that way."

Ryan chuckled. "Man, this is gonna be fun."

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The waiting area was nothing more than a corner of the warehouse with some benches and a water cooler. A few other fighters sat around, stretching, shadowboxing, or just quietly psyching themselves up. Some looked experienced—calm, controlled, like they'd done this a hundred times. Others? Not so much.

Ryan sat next to me, scrolling through his phone like we weren't in some sketchy underground fight club. "Alright, so your first match is against some dude named Marco."

I raised an eyebrow. "Is that supposed to mean something to me?"

Ryan smiled, "I looked him up—he's a regular here. Decent record, nothing crazy, but he's got endurance. Likes to wear his guys down, then finish 'em when they're tired."

I nodded, rolling out my shoulders. "Sounds like an annoying guy to deal with."

Ryan chuckled. "Only if you let him drag it out. If I were you? I'd take him down, and fast."

That… made sense.

I tapped my weighted wristbands absentmindedly. Currently, the 100s were strapped on me. Overall, since I'd been training with them for so long, they actually started to feel a bit normal. But if I was serious about this match…

I shouldn't be that cocky... I immediately started unstrapping them.

Ryan glanced over. "Taking them off?"

I nodded, "No point handicapping myself, is there."

Thud~

Thud~

The moment the weights hit the floor, my body felt terrifyingly light. It felt as if the damn air around me was thinner too. I flexed my hands a little, rolling my wrists to shake off that odd feeling I was getting.

Ryan let out a low whistle from the side... "Man, you sure you wanna do that? You might even send this guy flying with just a simple jab."

I smiled, "Guess I'll find that out won't I."

Just then, the announcer's voice cut through the noise.

"Next up—MARCO versus ERGO! Get your bets in, folks!"

Ryan slapped my back. "Alright, big guy. Show 'em what you got."

I stood up, rolling my neck as I made my way toward the ring.

Marco was already in the ring, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Mid-20s, stocky build, maybe 5'11" or so. He had that look of a guy who'd been in enough fights to be confident, but not cocky.

He grinned as I stepped in. "First time here, huh?"

I nodded. "Yeah."

He cracked his knuckles. "Try not to embarrass yourself too bad."

I huffed a small laugh. "I'll, do my best."

The ref stepped in between us, giving the usual rundown. No weapons, no cheap shots, fight stops when someone goes down or taps out. Standard street fight rules.

I barely listened. I was too busy feeling the difference in my body. The lightness. The energy under my skin now that the weights were off.

'This was going to be interesting.'

The ref stepped back, raising his hand.

"FIGHT!"

Marco came in fast, throwing a quick jab to test my reflexes.

I saw it. Read it.

Not just dodging—I was gliding. My body felt absolutely weightless. His punch passed through air, and before he could even retract it, I was already inside his guard.

I could see Marco's eyes widening—just for a second. Then I threw my first punch, 'Let's see how strong I really am... First, start with a basic jab.'

My fist instantly connected with his abdomen.

And the second it did—I knew I fucked up...

I didn't just hit Marco. I had drove into him. Like a battering ram slamming into a door at full force. His whole body lurched and curled, his feet was barely staying grounded as the shock ran through him...

His breath looked like it had vanished.

Hell, I could even hear it—like the air had been violently ripped out of his lungs. His eyes went wide, his body instinctively curling inwards.

The whole place went dead silent.

'Oh, shit.'

Marco immediately staggered back, clutching his stomach, his face contorted in pure shock. He looked like he was trying to breathe but couldn't get his lungs to work.

I took a step back, realizing—

I hadn't even thrown everything into that punch. That was just… a normal hit for me. A damn jab.

The ref hesitated, like he wasn't sure whether to call the fight or let it continue.

Marco finally gasped, sucking in a sharp, wheezing breath. His whole body trembled as he straightened up, but I could tell—he was already done. He was just trying not to collapse outright...

Ryan, from the sidelines, "Damn, man."

I could see it, Marco's expression twisted into something between fear and absolute confusion. He shook his head, gritting his teeth, trying to will himself back into the fight. "The… hell was that…?"

I clenched my jaw. I wasn't even sure how to answer that question... Marco growled and rushed me again, throwing a wild hook this time...

'Slow. So, so slow.'

I barely even had to move... My body essentially reacted before my brain even did—ducking to the left, sidestepping, flowing right past his attack like I was moving through water.

His overextension left him wide open, filled with openings... I twisted my hips and kicked—

Not even at full power. Just enough to knock him off balance.

But the second my leg met his, his whole body had lifted off the ground.

'Fuck!' I had misjudged my strength again.

Marco hit the mat like a wrecked car, landing on his back with a sickening thud.

The ref didn't even hesitate this time.

"FIGHT OVER! WINNER—ERRGGGOOOO!"

I turned and looked around, realizing that the crowed that was cheering loudly before was, completely, silent.

I stood there, heart pounding—not from exhaustion, but from realization. This wasn't normal... I could have killed him... Now I was certain that I wasn't normal.

Ryan was the first to break the silence, clapping his hands. "Shit, dude. That was insane."

Marco groaned on the floor, coughing as he slowly tried to sit up. I reached out a hand to help, but... he flinched.

Like he was actually afraid of me. I pulled back my hand.

Walking off...

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END