Thread: The Dragon of the Underground

Now remember, kid, this ain't like anything you've ever done before. I want you to keep your eyes open at all times, understand? Roger Adlon, manager of the reigning UFC World Heavyweight Champion and current Karate Masters Tournament Champion, Thomas Price, was excitedly explaining to his new charge what it would be like fighting in the underground circuit. His new charge was Tom's son, Brandon, and the boy was a gifted martial artist. He knew that mastery of the fighting arts ran in the Price family, dating back to Brandon's great-grandfather, who was a champion bare-knuckles boxer. Stopping for a red light, Roger turned and awaited the young man's response. Brandon looked over at his manager, a smile warming his brown eyes as he nodded his head. Yeah, I understand, Roger. I won't take my eyes off the competition. Where is the arena, anyway? He looked back out and noticed that they were in a rather affluent section of Manhattan. Surely an illegal underground fighting circuit wouldn't be here amongst the glitz and the glamor? We're almost there, Brandon, replied his manager as he made a right turn. After driving a little while longer, Roger stopped the car. Brandon looked around and noticed that they were in front of nondescript building. Puzzled, he stepped out of the car along with his manager and looked around. A bit of frost was in the air, it being so close to evening, so he had to rub his bare arms for warmth. His manager looked up and nodded. This is the place. Roger turned to Brandon. I hope you're ready, cause it's the real deal from now on. Brandon nodded, rubbing his arms as a light cold breeze ruffled his brown hair. When they entered the building, they noticed that it was unfurnished and drab, save for an oak reception desk. There was a man in his early twenties working the desk, and he looked up as someone entered. May I help you? He asked in a guarded tone. Roger stepped forward and leaned over the desk as if they were conspiring. I'm here for the underground fighting league, he whispered. The man relaxed and nodded. Very well, if you'll come right this way, I'll take down your information. The man got up and began walking, and Roger motioned for Brandon to follow them. The trio walked down hallway after hallway until finally coming to a door labeled 'fire exit'. The man pushed open the door and Brandon and Roger followed him down the staircase. Obviously, the fire exit was a cover for something else. They continued to walk down the spiral staircase until they found a solid metal door. The guy working the desk walked up and knocked on the door in a complicated, rhythmic manner. The door opened and they followed him in. Brandon heard the slam of the door behind him, but he was more concerned with what was in front of him. The nondescript building was the perfect cover for the beautiful room that was before him. The walls were ornate with gold, the carpet was spotless, and there were fancy antiques all around from several places of origin. They continued to walk until they left the room, and the man took his place at another desk. Now, then, I need the information of the registering fighter. Brandon stepped forward and gave all of the necessary information. The man opened a drawer behind him when they were finished and produced a folder. He then placed the info in, put the folder in the drawer, then shut and locked it. All right, Mr. Price, you are a registered fighter. Your first match will be tonight. Head out of this room and take a left to find the changing room. I assume you have appropriate clothing for fighting? Brandon nodded, and the man dismissed them. Brandon, accompanied by Roger, headed down the hall until they found the locker room. Roger would wait at the door while Brandon changed into his chosen outfit. Brandon removed his shoes, socks, jeans and shirt before placing them inside an available locker in the same bag he had taken his chosen fighting outfit. Since he didn't want to be constricted during the fight, he had chosen a single pair of black shorts. His manager was excited about the fight, but he was holding it in so as not to break Brandon's concentration. After putting them on, Brandon smiled as he began to do his warmups. Ten minutes later, Brandon had finished his warm-ups. His body felt warm and he was slightly sweater. He sat down and closed his eyes, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth. This allowed him to enter a light stage of meditation, so that his mind would be as warmed up as his body. This was the underground, where no rules existed to protect the fighters. He could very well die tonight if he was not careful. Nevertheless, this was Brandon's first fight in the underground, and he was going to make it unforgettable.