The underground gym sat beneath an abandoned warehouse, hidden behind a rusted shutter that never fully closed. Inside, the air was thick with sweat, disinfectant, and old concrete. A single bulb flickered near the ceiling, buzzing like it might give up any second.
Arjun leaned against a pillar, unwrapping the tape from his hands. The skin underneath was raw, swollen, split in places. A few feet away, his manager counted cash on the hood of a dented car, lips moving as he stacked bills into neat piles.
Arjun waited.
When the counting slowed, he said, "Where's my cut?"
The manager didn't look up. "Sponsors pulled out."
Arjun blinked once. "After the match?"
"Before the payout," the man corrected. "Details matter."
Arjun straightened. "You promised."
The manager finally met his eyes. There was no anger there. No guilt either. Just calculation.
"I promised what I could," he said. "Things change."
Behind them, another fighter argued with a bookie. A sharp slap cracked through the room. Someone laughed. The bulb flickered harder.
Arjun stepped closer. "I finished the fight. Clean. Crowd loved it."
The manager shrugged. "Crowd doesn't sign checks."
Arjun glanced past him. A new fighter—young, bruised—sat on a bench clutching his ribs while a medic stitched him up without anesthesia. The boy bit down on a towel to keep quiet.
The manager followed Arjun's gaze. "Kid'll learn," he said. "Pain's part of the job."
Arjun looked back at him. "So is payment."
The manager's jaw tightened. "You want sympathy? Go upstairs. This is business."
Arjun laughed softly. Not amused. Just tired.
He reached out, tapped the stack of bills on the hood. "You paid the others."
"They don't ask questions."
Arjun nodded slowly. He stepped back, shouldered his bag.
As he walked toward the exit, a man in a clean jacket slipped the manager a folded envelope. The manager checked inside, smiled, and waved him through without a word.
The shutter groaned as Arjun pushed it open. Cold night air rushed in.
Behind him, the bulb finally died, plunging the gym into half-darkness.
Arjun didn't turn around.
Outside, engines roared, money moved, and somewhere above ground, people waited for decisions that would never come on time.