I find myself at a weird time in my journey. My skills are improving, and I've found someone I want to overcome. I've acquired a goal to work towards. I want to beat Obi Ekong Ali to become the UFL champion.

I've got work to do. Fight the right people and learn the needed techniques. I've got no UFL fights for a while, so I'll keep it to simple workouts.

I prefer to work out at home, but I lack the space for a lot of equipment. I go to this one cheap gym in the city that has my favorite equipment. Heavy bag, speedbag, a good variety of weights, treadmills, and a few more. I've gone to this gym consistently for a bit. Nothing too heavy in case I get a fight offer.

Tonight is actually my rest night. The only reason I'm out is that I have to renew my membership. I procrastinated on doing it all month. If I wait any longer, the late fees will basically double the cost. This is how these smaller places stay in business. So I can't complain too much.

The gym itself isn't in the nicest area. They don't even have a website. If it was a modern gym I'd be able to do this online. You get what you pay for I suppose.

When it comes to places like this you have to know how to navigate. I use a parking garage that's next to it to avoid blatantly being in the street. I'm open to fighting, but most guys out here aren't using their firsts. Guns and knives have changed the art of random violence. All the training in the world won't make you invulnerable. I love a good street scrap, but I hate the idea of losing my life over whatever money I have in my pocket.

Thankfully the payment process is quick, I'm in and out and get right to getting back home. I promptly exit the gym and take the elevator to the 4th floor of the parking deck. Then I'll hop to the adjacent parking deck, then take the staircase down, I'll be right by the subway station. I left my apartment at a specific time so that when I was done, I wouldn't be waiting for Marta for a long time.

I made my hop, from one parking deck to the next. As I take my descent from the ledge. Something is off. I can sense a presence. I don't hear footsteps. I don't hear keys rattling. But I know for damn sure I'm not alone. I look left...Then I look right...Nothing. I focus on the stairwell. Time for me to just hurry on home. I walk forward, basically power walking. The only reason I don't run is that deep in my heart I know I'm not alone. Even if I'm hoping the person doesn't say or do anything, my pride would never allow me to convey the cowardice I feel inside. I make it to the door of the stairwell, my hand even makes it to the handle. Before I could pull.

"What's up, man?"

That came from behind me, the one place I didn't glance at before I booked it to the door. This person was waiting for me.

I turn around, this will likely be a fight. I don't exactly have any choice.

From the shadows of the ledge emerges a large figure. They have a very casual walk. Some low-life criminals have a frantic edge about them. This guy is clearly sober and relaxed.

As he leaves the shadows, the blue letterman jacket makes it clear who my guest is.

"Leo," I said out loud, though it was more so to myself.

"You remember me? I'm honored. A superstar like you remembers the little people. So humble." He said.

I tried to match his volume. He's a loud fucker. But I attempt to keep my tone leveled to avoid looking like I was tense.

"The fuck do you want bro," I said.

"Ya know? I reached out to the UFL to get my run back against you. But you know they ghetto as fuck. They wanted to put you onto some new shit. So I been here n there. Fightin' some bums here. Break a Judo master's arm there. Na what I'm talm bout?" He continued.

He's not even listening. There's a grudge. There's a deep grudge from our first fight. I knew he was still a registered UFL player. Admittedly, I was not following his career at all.

"I'm not the type to ask for shit twice. So I figured... If I wanna get my rematch, why not just go to the source? I got a homie that works out at that lil gym you been hitting up. He told me where you be...So how bout it? Let's fight now that I'm ready. Try that woo woo ass kick now. No need for no crowd. I don't need money to fight. Les go." He said as he opened his arms. Motioning for me to attack first.

Shit. I'm not myself. Normally I would've never let him say that entire spill. This is fear. This is my mind-processing potential escape. This is the realization my first win was a fraud. That if he was prepared, it probably wouldn't have ended the way it did. That if an opponent comes for me when I'm not prepared I'm screwed. That, depending on how it goes, I could get arrested. Everything I know is in doubt at this moment...But...Fuck it.

I charge him. Running at full speed. He stood in the same spot. Waiting. He's probably trying to bait me. Depending on my move, his intentions won't matter.

I leap into the air and go for a lunging superman punch. The same one I used to knock out Travers. My fist connects. It's a clean punch to his nose and mouth. The punch makes him stumble back. He really didn't have a guard or counter ready. He really was just bracing for whatever I was gonna throw at him.

"Fuck! You used that one on that MMA guy, right? Not bad. I ain't fallin' like his ass though. C'mon bitch." He said with a smile.

I think, how can I end this quickly? I know I did damage. But I've gotta be careful. I won't throw kicks. Too risky. Wait. He recognized my punch? He must've been watching all my matches of course. I study all my opponents I have to expect to get studied. No. No time to think about this. I must strike while the iron is hot.

I go in for another punch. This one is a big swing. I just want to knock his ass out. Leo ducks and swings his arm back then lunges forward. He uses his moment to slam his fist into my gut.

I have NEVER been punched that hard in my stomach. I was raised off my feet. Almost a foot and a half off the ground. The landing from this attack was far from graceful. I landed on my forearms and knees.

I cough up enough spit to fill up a cup. I can hear my insides moving around. God. I should've just ran. I even forgot where I was for a moment.

Next thing I know, I feel two arms wrap around my torso. I'm then lifted back into the air. My stomach is in immense pain from the punch, being lifted by it doesn't help in the slightest. I'm then flipped forward. My legs ended up draped over Leo's shoulders. It took a second for me to realize, but...it came to me.

I'm about to be power bombed.

Words can't really describe the pain of being slammed onto a concrete floor. The impact sent a sharp pain to all the major joints in my body. My arms and legs feel like they're machines that have been remotely shut down. My fingers won't curl into a fist. I try. But they just won't. It feels like all the oxygen left my body through my mouth.

Leo stands over my barely functioning body. "Tch. Don't tell me you're done. That was way easier than it should've been. All that martial arts shit is a waste of time. Real Gs just fight. I don't need no school to tell me how to throw a mothafucka down." He said with disgust.

In two moves, he's destroyed everything I've worked for. All my wins. All my training. All my beliefs. He broke it all in two moves. Just a few hours ago I was putting together how I'd fight the UFL Champion. But now I'm here. Laid out like road kill by a thug who doesn't even train in anything.

That realization stole my focus, I didn't notice he had already left. I wasn't playing possum. The position I was in didn't change. I soundly lost our impromptu rematch.

After about an hour of physical disaster, I managed to barely crawl to this parking deck's elevator. There's no need to use the stairs for my shortcut. The worst that could happen, happened.

I lay flat on the seat of the subway. The pain has eased up enough for me to be able to breathe in normal patterns again. I count the stops until where I get off. 2 more stops. Man, I gotta lay in a tub of ice. Maybe I'll stop at the corner store and buy a couple bags. 1 more stop. They're open late right? I should buy a hotdog or something too. Maybe a slushy. Now that I think about it. These subway seats are kinda comfy. Everything is comfier than the makeshift coffin Leo made for me. The cold of the seat feels okay on my back.

I take a look around and there are people around. A girl in a fast food polo shirt uniform. A guy wearing headphones. An old lady with what I assume is her granddaughter. None of them seem to be focused on me. Good. I hate pity.

Wait. I didn't see these people get on. When did they? My stop was coming up soon, wasn't it?

I rise from my seat and look out the window. The morning sun is shining over the downtown skyscrapers I'm passing. I'm in the city...The heaviness I feel in my eyelids, the function I have in my arms n legs, the fact the pain has subsided a bit...I fell asleep on Marta.

Besides the people possibly assuming I'm homeless, that was a damn good sleep. Good thing I was able to wake up honestly. I get up and turn to stretch in place. I hear some loud pops.

Welp. No time to be depressed. Me and that kid are now 1 and 1. It's almost like the championship doesn't exist anymore. I can't think of facing Obi. Leo is the only thing I can see. I beat him "fraudulently" in our first fight. In our second, he dominantly beat me. But if I know anything about fighting, it's the one who laughs last, laughs the loudest.

Crimson's underground fight record: 5 - 1.

Ranked match results:

Leo: Rank 20 promoted to 7 

Crimson: Rank 10 demoted to 24