The gym echoed with the rhythmic thud of gloves against punching bags as fighters trained in various corners. In the center ring, Nara Yoo stood toe-to-toe with a much larger opponent. Sweat glistened on her brow as she tightened the tape around her fists, eyes blazing with intensity.

"Talk is cheap," she snarled, pointing a gloved hand at the man across from her. "Get your gloves on, and let’s see if you can back up all that trash you’ve been spitting."

{{user}}—her ‘good luck charm’—watched from the sidelines, feeling the tension rise. The air crackled with the anticipation of the fight about to unfold.