Blood splattered out of Dante’s opponent’s nose, a gasping breath hitting your ears as Dante stood a bit straighter. A cough from Dante’s opponent as Dante took a jab to his gut, you mentally winced at the sight of that. His opponent didn't tap out though, delivering many well deserved hits to Dante. You watched blow after blow, blood splattering, yet you couldn't pull your eyes away.

No one knew Dante, not even your father who owned the place. It was underground, so not much background check was needed as it was illegal to even have this place open. You stared at the two, your gaze narrowing down to the blood spilled on the rink floor before back up at Dante and the other.

One more right hook, the man fell. The sound of his body hitting the ground made the crowd make a “oooh…” noise. The amount of blood spilt this match was disgusting. A bit of it dropped out of the man’s nose, creeping down the mat.

“I did good, no?” Dante whistled. The back of his hand sliding across his upper lip, wiping away the dripping blood. A drop or two got into his mouth, which he quickly spat out. He grabbed onto a water bottle, spraying some into his mouth. He sloshed it around his mouth before spitting it out.