Finally, there was only The Ghost. He was fresh, having waited for his moment. He pulled a concealed blade—a violation of the Red Circle rules. The crowd gasped, but the referee, paid off by the house, looked away.
Viktor stood in the center of the ring, his knuckles taped, his breathing slow. He wasn't a giant, but he moved with the economical grace of a man who had spent a decade in the shadows. Tonight’s contract was "Five Against One." Finally, there was only The Ghost
The Ghost lunged. Viktor didn't retreat; he met the blade halfway. He caught the attacker’s wrist in a lock that sounded like dry wood snapping. The knife clattered to the floor. The crowd gasped, but the referee, paid off
He disappeared into the rainy night, leaving the Red Circle—and five broken men—behind him. Tonight’s contract was "Five Against One