The back rooms reeked of sweat, old beer, and a faint metallic tang – the scent of fear. Leaving the main arena of The Viper Pit, I entered a tight corridor illuminated by flickering lights. The roar of the crowd faded until I could only hear my own ragged breathing.
Valentina's guard stood before a solid steel door. He pressed his palm against a biometric scanner at chest level. A green light pulsed, and the door slid open with a mechanical hiss.
Inside, ten cages formed a square, each one guarded by armed men. At the center, a raised platform served as the fighting ring. I wiped my gloves on my shorts and adjusted the straps on my arms.
"Welcome," the guard said, gesturing to an empty cage. "You're up third."
I nodded, my throat tight with anticipation. I studied the other fighters – their faces scarred, their eyes hard. This wasn't the public spectacle in the main Pit; this was where debts were settled, reputations earned, and bones were broken.
Gio appeared beside me, his voice hushed. "Keep focused. Look for an opening. Don't get trapped."
I nodded briefly. He disappeared back into the shadows. I took a deep breath, centering myself.
A bell rang. Two fighters entered the ring – one a burly wrestler, the other a lean grappler. The jeers of the crowd followed them through the locked cages. Ten seconds later, both were bleeding. The grappler secured a chokehold; the wrestler went still. The referee stopped the fight. The victor's cage unlocked, and he disappeared into the hallway.
Now it was my turn. I stepped into the cage and heard the lock click shut. I raised my gloves. Across from me stood Silvio "The Rat" – a scrawny kid with quick hands and shifty, rat-like eyes.
He smirked. "Rossi? Losing your edge?"
"No," I said, my voice firm. "I've improved."
The bell rang.
Silvio faked a low attack. I committed, throwing a left hook. His body shifted like a trapped animal. He ducked under my arm and jabbed me in the ribs. I stifled a gasp and hammered his shoulder. He rolled backward and kicked my knee. Pain shot up my leg, but I stayed on my feet.
He circled, jittery. I mirrored his movement. I'd learned one thing in the Pit: patience. He lunged. I sidestepped and rammed my shoulder into his stomach. His breath exploded out of him, and I followed with a right to the jaw.
Silvio stumbled. I closed in. He raised his arms, his gloves shaking. I jabbed – missed – and he spun under my guard and landed a solid uppercut. My vision blurred red.
The shock hit hard. I staggered backward, my hand to my mouth. The back-room crowd roared. The Rat squealed in triumph. I shook my head, clearing my vision. My world narrowed to his rat-like eyes and my instincts.
I dropped my guard and threw a straight right, catching him mid-taunt. He grunted and pressed forward. I clinched, driving my knees into his thighs. He tried to break free; I twisted his arm and landed an elbow on his temple. He collapsed.
The bell rang. Silence. My chest heaved. The referee waved me out. The cage unlocked. I stepped into the hall, silencing the cheers with a raised hand.
Valentina's guard hovered nearby, his expression unreadable. "You survived."
I wiped blood from my forehead. "I did."
He nodded once and led me down a narrow corridor. Concrete walls were damp. The only light was a red exit sign at the far end.
He stopped outside another door. "Next up, Stiletto."
I knew the name: a blade expert, rumored to fight with sharpened nails. I swallowed. The guard opened the door.
Inside, the air was colder. Torches cast dancing shadows on stone pillars. The ring was smaller – barely eight feet across. Chains hung from the ceiling. The crowd pressed close around the edges; I noticed a sarcophagus in one corner, half-open, like a silent observer.
Stiletto leaned against the sarcophagus, her fingernails extended into needle-like points. She looked at me, a cruel smile on her lips. "Survived the Rat?"
"Barely." I flexed my shoulders.
She pushed off the sarcophagus. "Hope you like pain."
The door slammed shut behind me. A single bulb overhead buzzed to life. I raised my gloves. She clicked her nails. The crowd leaned in.
She attacked first – her hands flashed, clawing for my face. I ducked, feeling a scratch on my cheek. Blood trickled down, but my vision remained clear. I jabbed her shoulder – a searing pain flared in her arm. She hissed and spun, her nails scraping my ribs.
I gritted my teeth, calling on the focus of every fight I'd ever won. I circled her, baiting her left. She committed. I moved in, striking her chin with the heel of my palm. She staggered backward, her hand to her jaw.
I closed the distance, grabbed her wrist, twisted. She yelped and dropped one of her nail-needles. I kicked the other out of her grasp. She backed up, fear flashing in her dark eyes. This was more than a fight; it was survival.
I caught her fist mid-swing, slammed her elbow into her midsection, then unleashed a flurry of blows: hammer fist, uppercut, hook. Her knees buckled. She fell to one knee. I stood over her, my gloves raised.
The bell rang. My breath came in ragged gasps. Stiletto slumped. The referee waved me out. The chains above rattled as the door swung open.
Valentina's guard met me again. This time he nodded with a hint of approval. "One more."
I swallowed around the lump in my throat. One more meant facing the boss's personal guard – a heavyweight ex-champion who had never lost. My heart pounded so hard I could feel it in my throat.
He turned and led me down a spiral staircase into the depths of the estate. Walls closed in until I stepped into a chamber lit by a single torch. A roaring furnace glowed in one corner, and shadows danced on the walls.
The guard opened another cage. The man inside was massive – twice my height, his muscles coiled like springs. His shaved head gleamed. His eyes looked… amused.
He tilted his head. "Rossi, huh? Ready to prove yourself?"
I swallowed hard. "I don't plan on losing."
He grinned, cracking his neck. "Then let's dance."
The cage door slammed shut. My gloves felt heavy. There was no crowd noise here – just the hiss of steam and the furnace's roar. He advanced, each step a threat.
I circled, my heart hammering. He swung a gloved fist. I ducked and countered with a low kick. He barely flinched. He smashed his shoulder into me, sending me skidding backward across the steel floor.
Pain exploded in my back. I forced myself to rise. My vision blurred at the edges. The guard loomed over me.
He threw a right hook. I blocked, but the impact rattled my arm. I staggered. He pressed forward, fists raining down.
Instinct took over. I slipped beneath his guard, grabbed his hips, and slammed him to the floor. The metal rattled beneath us. He roared. I climbed onto his back, locked an arm around his neck, and squeezed – just enough.
He thrashed, his muscles flexing, but I held on. His resistance weakened. I shifted my grip, tightened, and felt him go limp.
Silence. The furnace's roar seemed distant. I slid off him, rising unsteadily. My gloves shook.
The guard sat up, breathing heavily. He met my eyes and gave a slow nod of respect. Then he smiled.
The cage door clicked open. I stepped out. The guard was waiting, his expression neutral. "You passed."
I pressed a hand to my side – my ribs bruised, my muscles screaming. I met his gaze. "Got the research?"
He raised an eyebrow. "In your locker. Get it, clean yourself up, and meet me in the council chamber."
I nodded. Every step felt like breaking through concrete. I limped to the nearest door marked Locker Room.
Inside, my duffel bag lay open on a bench. I unzipped it and pulled out the leather-bound dossier – copies of Lena's diary pages, Serafino's notes in the margins. My blood surged.
Someone knocked. Valentina's guard slipped in. "Time's up."
I wiped sweat and blood from my face. "I'm ready."
He nodded and led me back toward the council chamber. Each step echoed with victory and exhaustion.
Tonight, I'd proven my worth in blood. But the real trial was just beginning: using these trials as a spy. Using my strength as a weapon of betrayal.
I squared my shoulders, slapped my gloves together, and followed him into the shadows. The council chamber's torchlight shimmered ahead.
I carried victory in one hand and deceit in the other – and nothing would stop me from saving Lena. Not even the Serafino blood that now ran through our veins.