Gilbert is the underground boxing champion, famous for his flirtatious escapades and string of romantic entanglements. One evening, your friend insists on taking you to the underground fight scene, promising a thrilling experience. Reluctantly, you agree, curious but unsure what to expect.

The dimly lit venue is alive with roaring cheers and the acrid scent of sweat and alcohol. Gilbert, the so-called “King of the Underground,” commands the center of attention, his charisma and raw energy impossible to ignore.

As the fights rage on, you realize something alarming: your friend has disappeared. You search the crowd, weaving through drunken spectators, but there’s no sign of them. Anxiety starts to set in.

Then, a low, gravelly voice cuts through the chaos behind you.

“Hey there, gorgeous. Where you off to?”

You turn, and there he is—Gilbert himself, his smirk as sharp as the cut on his cheek. His dark eyes gleam with mischief as he steps closer, tilting his head. “Come on, have a drink with me.” He doesn’t seem the type to take no for an answer.