Chapter 2 I'm Here To Box

As the school bell rang, signaling the end of the day, students flooded out of the classrooms with the usual chorus of chatter and laughter. Among the first to leave was Ryan. Without sparing a single glance behind him, he picked up his bag and dashed out, his movements swift and purposeful - as if something far more important than school awaited him outside those gates.

Lily watched him from the doorway, her brows furrowed. "Emily, do you think Ryan's in such a hurry? He seems... different from before."

Emily had noticed it too. She didn't want to admit it aloud, but Ryan's return had shaken something in her - something small, fragile, and irritatingly curious. She and Ryan were tied by that ridiculous marriage contract from childhood. Though they had met only twice before, those meetings had left an impression. Ryan had been sweet then, maybe even a little awkward. He used to shower her with compliments, trying his best to win her over with youthful enthusiasm.

But now?

Now he was... distant. When he walked into class that morning, he had only offered her a brief, polite nod and a barely-there smile. No attempt to talk. No declarations. Nothing.

It was strange. Unsettling, even.

"Could it be a strategy?" Lily mused aloud, tapping her chin playfully. "You know, that whole ignore her and she'll want you more thing?"

Emily scoffed, though her heart skipped a beat at the suggestion. "Why should his change matter to me?" she snapped, but her gaze betrayed her words as it lingered just a second too long in the direction he had gone.

Meanwhile, Ryan moved swiftly through the city streets, weaving past pedestrians with laser focus. As soon as he exited the school gates, he pulled out his phone and opened an app that looked like nothing more than a calculator to the untrained eye. But after typing in a series of precise inputs and swiping through layers of disguised menus, he accessed a hidden portal - The Martial Arts Secret Realm.

It wasn't just a site - it was an elite hub. A digital fortress where true martial artists from around the world exchanged intel, posted missions, and monitored underground activities. The encryption was unbreakable, and the entrance tightly restricted to those with clearance. Ryan keyed in the login credentials passed down from his mentor - a woman so powerful and elusive that even her name carried weight in hidden circles.

Once inside, he dove into the database, searching for information on underground boxing rings in New Cloud City. It didn't take long. A venue called Cloud Summit Club popped up - a known front for illegal black boxing managed by a man named Mr. Jack. Matches were held weekly, with high-stakes betting and brutal, no-rule brawls. It was dangerous. Risky. Potentially deadly.

But the prize money was enormous.

Ryan hailed a taxi and set the destination.

Far from the bustle of New Cloud, in the quiet, misty hills of Mistwood Province, an upscale villa loomed behind wrought-iron gates and a stone wall.

Inside, an old man entered a lavish study, bowing slightly as he approached a young figure seated in a leather chair.

"Young master," he said solemnly, "the account has resurfaced. It just logged into the Martial Arts Secret Realm."

The figure turned, his eyes sharp and predatory. "Track the login. Pinpoint the location."

"Yes, sir."

The old man pulled out a sleek tablet and began the trace, his fingers moving with precision. But then he paused, face tightening.

"The account just went offline again. It logged out before the trace completed."

A beat of silence passed.

The young master's voice was low, but dangerous. "Keep monitoring it. I want to know the moment it logs in again. That account was supposed to be locked. If someone's using it..."

"Understood."

Back in New Cloud, the taxi pulled up in front of a sleek, heavily guarded building tucked discreetly between skyscrapers. The Cloud Summit Club looked more like an exclusive lounge than a fight venue - with tinted windows, velvet ropes, and luxury cars parked out front. But Ryan knew better.

He approached the entrance with quiet determination.

A large bouncer in a black suit stepped forward, sizing him up with a frown. "Where do you think you're going, kid?"

Ryan stopped a few feet away, unfazed. "I'm here to box."

The bouncer laughed, a deep, mocking sound. "Box? You don't even look like you're old enough to drive. Go home, boy."

A second voice joined in, equally amused. "He probably got lost on the way to the arcade."

Just as the mocking laughter echoed around him, the sharp click of high heels drew everyone's attention. A tall, elegant woman approached, her black dress hugging her figure with tailored precision. Her jet-black hair was swept into a sleek bun, and her red lips curled into a curious smirk.

"Ms. Taylor," the bouncer said, bowing slightly.

Taylor's gaze swept over Ryan with a mix of amusement and intrigue. "You know about black boxing, don't you?"

Ryan nodded. "That's why I'm here."

Her brow rose slightly. "Do you even know what that means?"

"It's not about rules," Ryan replied calmly. "It's about survival - about strength. I understand the risks."

For a brief moment, something flickered in Taylor's eyes. This boy wasn't just bluffing. He carried himself with the quiet composure of someone who'd faced danger before.

Still, she had her doubts. "You don't look like a fighter. More like a student playing tough."

Ryan's lips curled into a faint smile. "Looks can be deceiving."

Taylor turned to the bouncer. "Let's test him."

Before she even finished the sentence, all four guards stationed at the entrance snapped into action. Years of combat training kicked in - their movements fast, coordinated, precise. They surrounded Ryan in seconds.

A normal person would have frozen.

But Ryan simply stepped forward.

"Impressive reflexes," he said, almost condescendingly, like a teacher noting the effort of a child.

Then he moved.

Whoosh!

The air seemed to shudder as Ryan's figure blurred. In a split second, fists flew, feet swept, and four thuds echoed in rapid succession.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang!

The guards collapsed to the ground, groaning in pain, their limbs twisted in unnatural angles. The entire encounter had lasted less than a second.

Silence fell over the entrance.

Ryan exhaled slowly, turning to face Ms. Taylor.

"Do I meet the qualifications now?"

She stared at him, stunned. Not just by the fact that he had taken down four trained fighters - but by the ease with which he had done it. No wasted movement. No hesitation. It was the skill of someone trained not just in combat, but in the art of war.

Taylor stepped closer, studying him. "What's your name?"

"Ryan."

She nodded slowly, then smirked. "Alright, Ryan. I'll let Mr. Jack know you're interested. But understand this - once you step into the ring, there's no mercy. This isn't schoolyard brawling. You win, or you bleed."

Ryan met her gaze, unwavering. "I'm ready."

Back at school, Emily lingered at her locker longer than necessary. Something didn't sit right. Ryan's sudden appearance, his silence, the way he left like he had somewhere far more important to be - it all nagged at her.

"Still thinking about him?" Lily asked with a grin, popping up beside her.

Emily scowled. "I am not."

Lily just raised an eyebrow.

Emily closed her locker a little too forcefully. "He's probably just trying to act cool. Playing mysterious. Guys think that works."

"Maybe," Lily said, looping her arm around Emily's. "Or maybe he's not playing at all."

Ryan followed Taylor into the club's inner sanctum - a maze of velvet-lined corridors and dim lighting. The scent of cologne, blood, and money lingered in the air.

He didn't know what the future held.

But he knew one thing for certain - he would fight.

Not for pride.

Not for glory.

But for the life of the woman who raised him.