The time between rounds was exactly one minute, barely enough to get their bearings and decide on their next move. As soon as the bell rang, Sam and that blonde kid faced off once more in the middle of the ring. So your name was Emiri, huh? The girl thought, you're good, but let's see how you manage this.

The previous round we tried an approach that had worked for us before, but this time around, the opponent’s reaction time and control of positioning was better than anyone they had faced before. It was the first time Caro had seen a striker deal with grappling as well as that. But if this fight’s gonna be decided with striking, then there’s some stuff Sam hasn’t shown yet, she concluded in her head.

Emiri once again takes the initiative and lets loose a left jab that Samuel manages to duck under. Next comes a right straight which Sam manages to block, if it weren’t for how predictable that was, the girl thought, that straight woulda knocked Sam’s lights off. Execution’s solid. Then he stepped back, perhaps he realised his by-the-books boxing wasn’t going to cut it this time around, or so thought Caro as she analyzed the fight. The man to take the initiative next was Sam, who followed behind Emiri’s steps and began to prepare a right straight as soon as he caught up. In response, Emiri got in a stance, loosened his shoulders and prepared to dodge and counter the straight, nah, that ain’t gonna fly. Instead of that straight, the boxer received a powerful low kick to his left thigh.

It was the first time in the whole fight the siblings would see the blonde boxer writhe in pain, that’s a sight I wanna see more of, thought Caro. Sam followed up the opportunity with a barrage of combinations, body hook into uppercut, both blocked, but more followed. With every one, Emiri was forced to retreat further and further into his corner, limping each time with his numb leg. Sam was about to try and finish the fight with another combination of punches, when he noticed the deadpan look return to his opponents previously filled with concern, so he instead retreated a couple of steps and transitioned into a high kick. Emiri didn’t allow himself to be hit by this kick and, as he ducked under, directed a bored, neutral look to his opponent. Sam got furious, but he didn’t charge forward. The two fighters were now in a deadlock.

That’s a good idea, Sam, Caro thought. If Emiri was already dodging the strikes instead of blocking them, it meant his head was back in the game. Emiri’s defense consisted of weaving between his opponent’s attacks without being tagged, and this helped him set up the counters which were his specialty. His combination of evasive footwork with offense was of a way higher level than that of any martial artist the siblings had seen on their journeys, Emiri was a true prodigy. Nonetheless, when he received that low kick to his thigh Emiri was forced to stand his ground and block. Alright, she thought, we can do this… Sam can do this!

“Yes, brother! Keep it up, you can do it!” Caro wasn’t able to contain himself and yelled at the ring.

“You seem quite pleased,” a hoarse, but otherwise feminine voice interrupted from behind.

“Excited, even.” Added a deep, masculine one.

Caro knew it was those two from before, the couple that was gazing at her misfortune. This time around, Caro decided to turn around and get a better look at them. They were a woman with her red hair cut up to her shoulders, wearing a checkered blue and white suit and a plain, but fine white shirt unbuttoned at the neck with no tie. A small, silver badge depicting the shape of the Isle of Dreaming was attached to the right lapel of her suit. Next to her was a massive, brown skinned man, that looked like a fighter himself, with a golden suit and the bronze badge on the right lapel of it depicted an early contiguity era knight’s helm. Caro wondered how she didn’t notice such a flashy couple before now, and then realized they were probably mobsters from the Families of Monte Callado and decided she best not look at them too much.

Before Caro was able to turn around to continue spectating the fight, however, the female looking individual of those two spoke again; “The black fighter, Samuel… is he perhaps your fighter?”

Caro considered for a second what was the wiser course of action, but in the end decided to respond. “No, he is my brother. He’s a fighter for a man named Alejandro.”

“I see, I see.” The apparent woman said with a wicked smile on her face, then she looked at her companion, “does that name ring a bell to you?” she asked him.

“No… He must be a foreign businessman.” He said slowly and without much of a change in his expression. Caro could barely understand what he was saying due to the deepness of his voice and the thickness of his accent.

“So you assist your brother in the ring as his second, you are so young too!” The woman continued.

“Yeah, well… If you excuse me…” Caro started with not a little amount of nervousness, “I have to continue watching the fight.” And then turned around.

But before even being able to realize what was going on in the ring, she heard that woman again. “It would be interesting if your brother wins, but just in case he doesn’t, I recommend looking up the ring, above the lights and the tramway.” She said as she pointed up at some point near the ceiling of the compound. Caro couldn’t help but look up at the place she was pointing at, and it took her a while to find what it was, but she eventually saw it, it was a nearly opaque window to a room with dim lights on, in the center of which she could see the silhouette of someone or something.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

“What is that?” She had to ask.

“Oh, I hate spoiling surprises,” she smiled again. “But perhaps you two wont find out? You only need to win, after all…”

Caro looked at her perplexed and then slowly turned her attention to the ring where the fight continued. Shit! She thought, because without even being able to see how he’d done it, Emiri had knocked Sam out once more. But how! How can Sam be having so many issues against some kid! Sam was kneeling on one leg, the referee near to commence the count, and in front, eclipsing the projectors was Emiri, the frankly small, androgynous kid somehow seemed like a giant. Another fight against the clock. I know you can return to this corner in one piece, Sam. I want you back here so I can find out what happened and rethink our strategy.

Before the count got particularly far, Sam got back up. And as soon as the fight was declared to continue, he didn’t back down. Putting his peekaboo guard up again, he waited for Emiri to come to him, and as soon as he did, Sam received him with a circular kick, which made him back down. It’s clear that Sam has the range advantage here, which begs the question of how Emiri managed to fish for another counter while I wasn’t looking. Counters, after all, were the only way Caro could see the tiny blond kid knocking down the weathered Sam.

What happened next was, at the very least, discouraging. Because while Sam decided to stay his ground and try to dissuade Emiri from getting near him, with every zoning kick he sent at him, the boxer kept dodging and closing further and further in. It took about four dodges for Emiri to get inside Sam's defenses and in his punching range, and once he got there, he stood for a fraction of a second that seemed to Caro like an eternity. Why isn't he attacking?! The two fighters exchanged looks, and in an instant Emiri kicked off; first he threw a hook to Sam's face, which he blocked, then he started throwing combinations. When he hitted low he shifted up, if he hitted up then he went back down. For every punch he blocked, Sam was hit with another. The punches didn't have a lot of strength behind them, but the precision and relentlessness they were thrown with made them hurt.

Sam was tiring of being on the receiving end of so much punishment when he made a single step forward to try and grasp Emiri. That was the moment the boxer was waiting for. The strike was nigh imperceptible, only a few of the most savvy members of the audience could see it happen, Caro being among them, and it hit Samuel square on the jaw. “No!” Caro managed to blurt out. The movement was made at a shorter range than Emiri was accustomed to, and it went on a straight line from his chest up to his opponent’s face. Once the crowd saw Sam stumbling, they knew it was over. Everyone expected Emiri to take some distance and finish his rival off, and so did Caro with her heart in her throat.

But it did not come. The finishing blow was sealed, everyone watching the fight suddenly realised, as they caught the sight of Sam clutching the arm that had struck him with both of his. Caro bumped both her fists, air rapidly coming back to her lungs and tears running down her cheeks. But now what? A nagging feeling crept up inside Caro's mind. He can do it! She thought, trying to shut those intrusive thoughts up. Indeed if she knew anything, was what you did with a striker once you've got his dominant arm in your grip, and she knew Samuel knew it too. But she also knew something else.

Samuel was unmoving, Emiri was in his grasp, but he wasn't transitioning into a hold. He can do it! She thought, but she had seen Sam get hit, and she had seen him stumble. The reason he wasn't moving… was because he couldn't. He had made a valiant sacrifice to win the fight, and stepped forward when he knew he would be struck, that's how he predicted what move he would be hit with, and was able to catch a fist that was too fast for eyes to perceive. But he still got hit, she knew he was barely holding on when her words bursted out of her. Knew that if there was a moment to seize the fight was then and there. Whoever could make the first move…

“You can do it!”

Her phrase didn't finish by the time the exchange happened. Emiri had lifted his free arm in the air and put his whole back, as little as it was, behind it. By the time he launched his straight, his fist had been pulled almost behind his head. And Samuel, well, what was he to do. The strike slammed him into the ropes, but not before he managed to land a devastating low kick to Emiri’s left thigh. Both fighters went down, in a sense. Emiri was on his right knee, holding onto his leg for dear life. Sam, on the other hand, was resting atop top ropes, blood streaming down from his nose. It looked to Caro like Sam was at peace there on the ropes, the fight had left his eyes. The referee was, nonetheless, counting Emiri’s down. It was the first knockout Sam had managed the entire night, but what a costly feat it was.

The count reached six by the point Emiri had managed to crawl to the nearest ropes and pull himself up, and then the bell rang. Caro got up to the ring to bring Sam back to their corner. She found him heavy, and wondered if she had burdened Sam in the past when she passed out in the desert. It took Sam a couple of seconds after being sat down and having his face wet with water to recover enough to talk, “it’s the fight… Is it still going?”

“...Yes,” Caro answered.

“Good. For a second I thought I lost.”

“H-how was it that you were knocked out earlier?” She fidgeted as she spoke.

“Huh? Oh, that.” He grabbed the bridge of his nose and looked up, “it was after I restarted my offensive. I noticed he was having a real hard time with my kicks, dodging them, I mean, so I used them to push him to the ropes. It was then that he hit me with a counter, I made a step in to kick him in the thigh, he stepped in as well in response, and hit me with a straight. He received that kick, however”

“What kind of idiot would receive the damage just to counter-”

“Caro,” he interrupted.

“A-aside from you… Who did that… To great effect.” She said as she blushed.

“Right. In any case, it took him all the time I was down to recover from that second kick, I bet.”

“And do you think he’s fully recovered?” She said with seriousness returning to her face.

“No, not after that third kick. His footwork was spotty after the first kick, it will be shot in the next round.”

“If you managed to hit him with a third one…”

“He’d go down.”

“So now we go onto the bad news”

“Why would there have to be bad news?”

“Sam…”

He took a deep breath after she said that. Neither of them needed to say anything, they knew he couldn’t fall another time. His breathing was ragged and painful, his shoulders looked heavy. She didn’t want to send him out there again, the fight had been a catastrophe. We underestimated this city, she thought. And now we are paying the price.

Before she could say anything else, Sam got ahead of her. “Caro, you did good taking us this far. Now let me do my part.” He said and then smiled honestly. It wasn’t often that he did that, even before what had happened at the old villa. She wanted to say something in response, but she couldn’t. She could do nothing but respect that determination. The minute of rest went by without mercy, Sam still looked beaten, but he still stood up as if it was the first round and extended his shoulders as if preparing to lift the whole world on them.

Then the bell rang and took Caro away from her trance. For better or for worse, the next round would be the last.